The Doubts of a Saint

“[But] as for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves [in prayer] but does not speak ….” --Mother Teresa of Calcutta, letter to spiritual confidante

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The Church is investigating whether Mother Teresa should be sainted. Somehow, during that process, her private letters to spiritual confidantes confessing decades of doubt as to her faith were published. Predictably, the secular press was abuzz with the not-so-newsworthy story that Mother Teresa of Calcutta, from time to time, doubted her own faith and even perhaps the existence of God. I was struck by this--not that she doubted her faith; rather, that her innermost questions of faith should be published at all. Being an accomplished sinner and not much of a canon scholar, I harbored this simple and perhaps naive notion that what we confess should never be disclosed at all. After all, aren’t our confessions sacrosanct? Yet, upon further reflection, I was glad that the subject of her doubt had surfaced. It intrigued me, but did not surprise me, that such a person would have doubts about her faith. Many saints did. Mother Teresa was drawn to the poverty and misery of one of the poorest places on earth. For more than forty years she performed legendary good works under the worst of circumstances. Perhaps better than any other person, she knew the suffering, filth, and disease that plagued the most desperate of God’s children. Rather than paying it lip service to it, or turning away with revulsion--as most of us might do--she ran to it, embraced it, and did something about it. She cradled the sick and dying, changed their bandages, cleaned their wounds, ministered to them and cleaned their soiled bedclothes. Hers was no theoretical concern for her fellow man-- the sort of fleeting empathy that makes us feel good, then quickly passes. She understood what it meant to minister to “the least of His people,” as Jesus exhorted us to do. Hers was a hop right in and get your hands dirty kind of faith that compels some people to confront misery and do something about it. In time, that legendary concern and love for the least of His people drew others to her work. Out of such compassion and love for humanity grew the Missionaries of Charity, and thousands of clergy and volunteers who run aid centers, hospices, hospitals and minister to the blind, the sick, lepers, and AIDS patients. The work was taxing mentally, physically and, certainly, spiritually. She suffered during her life from many disappointments, challenges and physical illnesses. God made us human, and imperfect. She was no exception. Although she may have well been the most godly among us, she labored in the trenches of the war on poverty, disease and suffering. Hers was not an easy life. Which brings us to the question of doubt. Should it be surprising, or even news, that Mother Teresa, who wallowed in filth, surrounded herself with the sick and dying, looked around her and saw nothing but abject poverty, while many in the world enjoyed lives of luxury and comfort should have questions about faith and the existence of God? Who among us, under such circumstances would not have doubts about God, and faith, and religion? The only surprise would be if she had no such doubts. Who could witness the misery that she did and never once raise her hands to the sky and ask “Why?” and “Where are You?” If she had no such doubts, I would doubt her humanity, because all of us doubt. It does not make us bad people or less than saints; it makes us–and her–human. It does not mean that we are not committed Christians; it means that God answers us in His time, which is not our time, and in His way, which is not our way. Often His purposes and His plan are simply beyond our comprehension. His will is often too hard to discern; He is too big to get our minds around. Who can know why God allows people to live in misery, suffering, and disease while others in the world live in the lap of luxury? Who can know why babies die while some evil persons live long lives? There are too many imponderables and none of us are able to figure them out entirely. It is because we are human that we cannot divine such things. They are and will remain unanswerable. We can only question, and to do so is only human. So, who can blame Mother Teresa, and who can be surprised by her, when she writes that she had doubts about her faith? Who could do what she did, stand in her shoes, and not doubt? Does this make her less a saint? If she is not a saint, who could ever be a saint? If doing what she did and living the way she did, setting the example she did, and displaying the godliness she did are not the works of a saint, then what does it take? If Mother Teresa is not a saint, there are no saints. If her life was not the best example of faith in action and the Holy Spirit at work, then I, as a simple sinner who has tried my best to figure out my life and understand my religion, truly don’t get it. Among those most revered by our Church are many examples of doubters, questioners, even repudiators of God and His son. Did not Thomas doubt Jesus? Until he felt the nail wounds in His hands, did he not doubt that Jesus was resurrected just as He promised? Doubting Thomas doubted his own faith and the word of Jesus, yet we honor him. Did not Peter doubt Jesus when Jesus summoned him to walk upon the water? Did he not repudiate and deny Jesus thrice during the time of His greatest suffering? Yet Peter is revered as the Rock upon which our Church was built. Did not the disciples doubt Jesus when they encountered Him after the resurrection? These are men who lived and walked with Jesus, and even watched Him perform miracles yet the Bible is replete with evidence that they doubted Him. Did not Jesus himself, display all-too-human doubt as He hung on the cross and cried out to the Father, “Why have you forsaken me?” There is plenty of room for doubters in our faith and some of our greatest saints were. If those who lived with Him and walked with Him are allowed to doubt Jesus and today are considered saints of the church, why should we be surprised or bothered that Mother Teresa–who never walked with Him in person--should have some doubt now and then about her faith? If Jesus himself, in his humanity displayed doubts, should we be surprised by the doubts of Mother Teresa? Although she sometimes strained to find meaning in her silence and emptiness, her doubt was supremely ironic. Whether she knew it or not, she was the answer to her own question as to whether there was a God and whether He even cares. Who else but God, working through the Holy Spirit, leads a humble nun to do such great works and spend her life ministering to the poorest, sickest and most hopeless among us? Who else but God, acting through humble and dedicated servants like her and her followers leads them to spend their lives embracing disease and misery in order to give the dying some measure of comfort? Where does such love come from if not from God? We will never answer all the questions. She couldn’t either. But we know the love of God when we see it, and we saw it in her. Is there a God? Her own life was the proof.