Thinking about Mother Teresa

Last week the kids and I celebrated Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta's Feast Day. Born in 1910, she chose to dedicate her life to God at a young age and joined the Sisters of Loreto at 18 years old. Shortly after she began missionary work in Darjeeling, India. At age 36 she felt the call from God to help the poor in India and with a little medical training and littler support, she founded The Missionaries of Charity. The organization's purpose was to take care of "the hungry, the naked, the homeless, the crippled, the blind, the lepers, all those people who feel unwanted, unloved, uncared for throughout society..." Over time the organization was grown from 13 members to over 4000 nuns all over the world.

While I was researching her life a bit, I came across an article about the article Time magazine wrote about her when her personal letters to her advisors and confessors were published. I had heard some time ago that Mother Teresa had only really felt God calling her to serve and care for the poor for a very short period of time - like five weeks or something - and the rest of the time she lived hoping she was still in His will but felt or heard nothing to confirm it. As these letters read, she lived in spiritual loneliness, seeking God and hearing nothing, feeling empty. Some people, after reading this, accused her of hypocrisy. I stopped reading the article. I was angry and discouraged and frankly, a little sickened that someone would slander her with accusations of hypocrisy.

I spent some time taking with Keith about it all and one became clear. We love, LOVE, to make saints out of people. We put them up on their pedestal for the good things they do and praise them for it. We are really good at encouraging our brothers and sisters with our words of affirmation. I'm sure Mother Teresa heard no end of the accolades. Being radical and sacrificial in your faith will earn you a first-rate seat on a pedestal. It looks great from below - posh even. But up there it is lonely. So often, the church falls into the trap of flattery at best, idolatry at worst.

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Each time Keith and I were asked to talk about living at Matthew House we would try to stress the idea that we were regular people. We understood that we could help inspire others to try take more chances in their faith but a lot of the time I felt like we were just widening the gap between the us and the them. Of course, I know all of the encouragement we received was well-intentioned. I think there is a part of each of us, though, that ironically feels that praising the example of others exempts us from getting involved ourselves. If we looked a bit harder at the people doing the work we would realize they are just like us, and perhaps it is only ordinary people who are able to carry out extraordinary work.

One of the reasons Keith and I chose to live at Matthew House with two small kids was to show others it could be done. It was messy and logistically challenging and some days we hid in our room. On those days it wasn't a word of encouragement from an outsider that helped. It was a one volunteer watching the kids while Jan took me out and bought me a cupcake. It was practical. It was people coming alongside and sharing the load - offering not just a word but an understanding of what it is like to be you. It was community.

I wonder what kind of replies Mother Teresa got from her superiors. I wonder if they were lofty words of encouragement or if they were sincere, humble acknowledgements of the struggle that is believing in an unseen God. I wonder if the church contributed to her loneliness by placing her and her work so far above ourselves - so out of reach. I wonder if she would have been betters served if the church viewed dedicating your life to the cause of the poor, the sick, the hungry, the orphan and widow as normal lifestyle choices for followers of Jesus. I wonder if winning the Nobel Peace Prize was the loneliest day of her life.

It was surprised to feel better after hashing this out. I felt better because I realized Mother Teresa was human. She was broken too. She had strengths and weaknesses, insecurities and flaws and redeeming qualities just like the rest of us. I realized that I too, had idolized her to an extent and was disillusioned by the article I read more than I was discouraged. I could even relate in a small way to her in her spiritual loneliness. I too felt God fully at work as we prepared to move to Matthew House. I also felt silence from Him while we were there. I'm still reflecting on that point. How interesting that once the real work has begun, God may be silent, perhaps waiting for His church to be His hands, His voice, His comfort.

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Last week the kids and I celebrated Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta's Feast Day. Born in 1910, she chose to dedicate her life to God at a young age and joined the Sisters of Loreto at 18 years old. Shortly after she began missionary  work in Darjeeling, India.  At age 36 she felt the call from God to help the poor in India and with a little medical training and littler support, she founded  The Missionaries of Charity. The organization's purpose was to take care of "the hungry, the naked, the homeless, the crippled, the blind, the lepers, all those people who feel unwanted, unloved, uncared for throughout society..."  Over time the organization was grown from 13 members to over 4000 nuns all over the world.

While I was researching her life a bit, I came across an article about the article Time magazine wrote about her when her personal letters to her advisors and confessors were published. I had heard some time ago that Mother Teresa had only really felt God calling her to serve and care for the poor for a very short period of time - like five weeks or something - and the rest of the time she lived hoping she was still in His will but felt or heard nothing to confirm it.  As these letters read, she lived in spiritual loneliness, seeking God and hearing nothing, feeling empty.  Some people, after reading this, accused her of hypocrisy. I stopped reading the article.  I was angry and discouraged and frankly, a little sickened that someone would slander her with accusations of hypocrisy.  

I spent some time taking with Keith about it all and one became clear. We love, LOVE, to make saints out of people.  We put them up on their pedestal for the good things they do and praise them for it. We are really good at encouraging our brothers and sisters with our words of affirmation. I'm sure Mother Teresa heard no end of the accolades.  Being radical and sacrificial in your faith will earn you a first-rate seat on a pedestal. It looks great from below - posh even.  But up there it is lonely.  So often, the church falls into the trap of flattery at best, idolatry at worst.

Each time Keith and I were asked to talk about living at Matthew House we would try to stress the idea that we were regular people. We understood that we could help inspire others to try take more chances in their faith but a lot of the time I felt like we were just widening the gap between the us and the them. Of course, I know all of the encouragement we received was well-intentioned.  I think there is a part of each of us, though, that ironically feels that praising the example of others exempts us from getting involved ourselves.  If we looked a bit harder at the people doing the work we would realize they are just like us, and perhaps it is only ordinary people who are able to carry out extraordinary work.

One of the reasons Keith and I chose to live at Matthew House with two small kids was to show others it could be done. It was messy and logistically challenging and some days we hid in our room. On those days it wasn't a word of encouragement from an outsider that helped.  It was a one volunteer watching the kids while Jan took me out and bought me a cupcake.  It was practical.  It was people coming alongside and sharing the load - offering not just a word but an understanding of what it is like to be you. It was community.

I wonder what kind of replies Mother Teresa got from her superiors. I wonder if they were lofty words of encouragement or if they were sincere, humble acknowledgements of the struggle that is believing in an unseen God.  I wonder if the church contributed to her loneliness by placing her and her work so far above ourselves - so out of reach. I wonder if she would have been betters served if the church viewed dedicating your life to the cause of the poor, the sick, the hungry, the orphan and widow as normal lifestyle choices for followers of Jesus. I wonder if winning the Nobel Peace Prize was the loneliest day of her life. 

It was surprised to feel better after hashing this out. I felt better because I realized Mother Teresa was human. She was broken too. She had strengths and weaknesses, insecurities and flaws and redeeming qualities just like the rest of us.  I realized that I too, had idolized her to an extent and was disillusioned by the article I read more than I was discouraged. I could even relate in a small way to her in her spiritual loneliness. I too felt God fully at work as we prepared to move to Matthew House.  I also felt silence from Him while we were there. I'm still reflecting on that point.  How interesting that once the real work has begun, God may be silent, perhaps waiting for His church to be His hands, His voice, His comfort. 

Rocketships Save the Day

Time for another installment of Storytime with Isaiah.  I do my best to write down the story verbatim so sometimes it doesn't quiet make sense but is still enthralling.  

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Isaiah and Isaiah was a space cadet. And so Isaiah had a mission from his boss. His boss said "Isaiah, wait - I got a mission for you. You gotta attack the aliens and boom them with your long boom!"  (I believe the "boom" is the boom arm on a crane.)

"At your service" he said.

And so a newspaper and tv said "ALIENS ARE ATTACKING THE WORLD!"

Do you know who his boss is?  Spance Burger. (He told me this with utmost gravity)

So Isaiah rushes to his room, gets his space armour on and out he went out of his door and to his rocket ship. He got in his rocket ship and zoomed off with a blast of wind. He zoomed of to the Alien Waterblast. The Alien Waterblast is a different kind of space. And he went there at zip speed!

He went off and he found the aliens by pushing a button and winding a swirl kaswirl. (I looked confused so he tried to clarify) The swirl was on the inside of the boom. And them he winded up and smashed the alien rocketship. And the boom went right into the rocket ship and boomded the aliens into squashded goo. And the goo went flying into outer space and into the sea where a shark ate them up. And the shark spitted them out and they turned into seaweed. (He wanted to further elaborate on the demise of these poor aliens but I thought this was enough gratuitous violence for one story).

Isaiah saved the day and he went back to earth and had a picnic. And Grampa and Grandma and Auntie Allie and Uncle Phillip and Uncle Trenton and Aiden and Auntie Mer, Nana and Papa came for a visit and they ate it all up and soon they were done.  (My apologies to the rest of the family who were left out of Isaiah's list.  Keith, Lucy, Charity and I didn't make the cut either).

The End.

Here is a picture of Isaiah in his rocket ship.

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Oh What a Busy Day...

Saturday was a quiet day here at home.  Keith was away in Oakville for the elders energizing and equipping meeting and I was here with the kids, listening to the thunderstorms pass by, each of us working away on our own projects. Lucy and Charity took long naps, Isaiah built a helicopter with tinker toys and string and I puttered along on a quilt top.  It was lovely and serene (for the most part). 

The sun was back yesterday and the temperature cool which triggered the annual apple picking buzzer that goes off in my brain and whines incessantly until there are 20lbs of apples in my kitchen. Although I was all gung-ho to get me some apples, I didn't have my best start out of the gate this morning.  I stayed up too late and was up early to get us out the door on time for church. On time for this morning meant in the car by 8:05.  The coffee maker acted up. Three times.  We were out of peanut butter. We made it, but I didn't have any coffee and there were no post-church peanut butter sandwiches packed. I did manage to grab four apples on the way out of the door. I know, I know.  We were going apple picking - why would I bring apples from home to eat. Because they were there - which is the same reason they were eaten right after church.  :)

On our way home to pick up some warmer clothes before heading to the orchard we drove by a school where a local church was hosting a community picnic. Lunch issue solved. Hotdogs and pulled pork sandwiches free of charge. bouncy house. Bible story for the kids.  You bet.  

Onward.

We gathered up our things at home and headed for Mountain Apple Orchard.  It takes about half an hour to get there but it was a pretty neat place.  The apple cider doughnuts were delicious ($8/doz). The apple cider was pretty good too. The apples themselves were a little small but many of the were red and ready for picking - most were still on the trees. They charged $25/20lb bag. There were smaller bags for $16 but those were for sissies.  

They also had a huge corn maze, straw jumping for the kidlets, some crafty things, alpacas, a big dirt mound, and used books. The used book selection and pricing was the best I have seen in a long time.  We bought 16 books for $4.00. Yup, 25 cents a book. Brilliant. I'd like to write more about those books in another post and talk about the collection we're trying to build for our kids. 

And so, at the end of the day we had three tired kids, each nearly asleep, two even more exhausted parents, and one delicious apple crisp fresh out of the oven. And 19lbs.of apples to go.

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