Mother Teresa's Heart of Darkness

"To be alone with Jesus in adoration and intimate union with Him is the Greatest Gift of Love - the tender love of Our Father in Heaven."

- Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Interesting quote from Mother Teresa, especially in light of recent "revelations" about her dark moods and decades-long feelings of adandonment. If you put this quote right up next to those darkest of moments, what happens?

One response is to see in Mother Teresa symptoms of a systemic problem. We are all familiar with the best-seller question: why do bad things happen to good people? But the question becomes even more acute when one internalizes the whole experience, the problem of suffering writ small, on the tablet of the human soul

The question then goes like this: how could a loving God tolerate provoking feelings of abandonment in His children, imposing on them decades of emotional suffering? Christopher Hitchens blames the situation (as he frequently does) on organized religion. Hitchens is headed along the right trail, but he doesn't go far enough along it to view the true source of Teresa's angst.

The "crushing unreasonableness" is not a burden imposed on weak souls by the Church itself, as if some internal belief system were the source of Teresa's emotional suffering. It's much deeper, much more profund than that.

The imprint of this unreasonableness finds its source in the Heart of God himself, especially as that Heart reveals its powerful Self in the Sacred and Immaculate Hearts of Jesus and Mary. These two hearts are not direct doorways to sweetness and light, as those who persevere in these twin devotions know.

There is in their midst a Heart of Darkness.

Inside of that Heart there are the teeming poor,wretched souls from Bosnia and hopeless people dying of AIDS. Inside of that Heart are all of the external circumstances which weigh down the world. These are the very wounds which Blessed Teresa of Calcutta herself loved and dressed in the body of this aching world. Like the Sacrament, there are in this Heart the Body broken, and the blood outpoured.

So, it should come as no surprise when a saint's life reveals an inward desolation, a barreness seemingly God-forsaken. It is precisely there where the fruit of love is born. It is precisely and only in the Heart of Darkness that we begin to experience the resurrection light. It is only those who have been there, or at least peered into the Mystery, who understand this divine necessity. It is the necessity which drove our Lord to His Cross. It is the divine necessity which drives His people to sacrifice themselves in lives of service.

Blessed Mother Teresa was not a saint in spite of her inward turmoil, but precisely because of it.

Enough said.

Close to Her Heart: Gone to the Cistercians, and our Blessed Mother

I took part of Friday and Saturday to go visit my brothers at the Cistercian Abbey of Our Lady of Spring Bank near Sparta, Wisconsin. We celebrated the Immaculate Heart of Mary together.

I was struck by a single phrase in the Gospel reading for yesterday. At the end of the episode of finding Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:41-51), it is said of Mary "she pondered these things in her heart."

Here is a wonderful commentary on that pondering from a fellow Cistercian, Saint Amedeus of Lausanne (1108-1159), Cistercian monk, then Bishop. The warmth of feeling for our Blessed Mother is one of the things drawing me to the Cistercians. You can see that warmth here.

Homily on Mary, 4

"Often, it seems to us, Mary forgot to eat and to drink, keeping vigil in order to think about Christ, to see Christ in his flesh. She burned with love of him and passionately loved to serve him. She often did what the Song of Songs sings about: “I was sleeping, but my heart kept vigil.” (Song 5:2) Even when she was resting, she continued to dream of him who filled her thoughts throughout the day. Whether she was keeping vigil or resting in peace, she always lived in him, was always occupied with him.

Where her treasure was, there also was her heart (Mt 6:21); where her glory was, there also was her mind. She loved her Lord and her Son with all her heart, with all her mind, with all her strength (Mt 22:37). She saw with her eyes, touched with her hands the Word of Life (1 Jn 1:1).

How blessed was Mary, to whom it was given to embrace him who embraces and nourishes everything! How happy was she who carried him who carries the universe (Heb 1:3), she who nursed a Son who gives her life, a Son who nourishes her and all beings on earth (Ps 145:15).

The one who is the wisdom of the Father put his arms around her neck, the one who is the strength that gives movement to everything sat on her arms. He who is the rest of souls (Mt 11:29) rested on her motherly breast. How gently he held her in his hands, peacefully looked at her, he whom the angels wish to contemplate (1 Pet 1:12), and he gently called her, he whom every being calls upon when in need.

Filled with the Holy Spirit, she held him close to her heart… She never had enough of seeing him or of hearing him, whom “many prophets and kings wished to see… but did not see.” (Lk 10:24) Thus Mary grew ever more in love, and her mind was unceasingly attached to divine contemplation."