Much Contradiction, Much Doubt, Much Faith

"There is so much contradiction in my soul. Such deep longing for God -- so deep that it is painful -- a suffering continual -- and yet not wanted by God -- repulsed -- empty -- no faith -- no love -- no zeal. Souls hold no attraction. Heaven means nothing -- to me it looks like an empty place."

I wanted to write earlier in the week, but there was much holding me back.  The new school year began Monday here in Texas.  As always things were hectic, and really the entirety of last week had been equally fast-paced, and equally demanding.  Much was expected of me.  So much, in fact, that I scarcely had time to reflect--or so it seemed.  Yet somehow my mode of reflecting also seemed to be working overtime.  It was just that my focus was aimed almost entirely at the students whom I serve in my work as a special educator.  Nevertheless, I have many thoughts and opinions on the recent news of Blessed Teresa's doubt.  I have many feelings stirring deeply within on the matter.

It is not that doubt is wrong or somehow sinful, or even that it is an admission of weakness or of ultimate untruth.  Doubt is a human characteristic.  Each of us in our honesty have experienced doubt--if we say we have not we make ourselves liars, and perhaps take company with the Pharisees whose prayer was "I thank you that I am not a sinner."

I have written on doubt in the past, and I have also written on Blessed Teresa and how she, for me, has become the icon of faith in times of great doubt.  To learn of her doubt has only served to strengthen my resolve and my determination.  Now, I may place trust in her prayers when I experience difficulty in matters of faith.  I may turn my prayers to her prayers--it's the way that the Communion of Saints works--holy people sharing holy things, not, of course, to make a claim to holiness myself.  I am merely a servant, a waiter of tables if you will allow.

Christopher Hitchens's rant in Newsweek did catch my attention, and while I found nothing clever I did find the expected lapses in logic that one habitually finds in the faith of an atheist--one who believes there is no God criticizing the purported lack of faith in another...Hitchens also claims, "I tend to believe that the absence of evidence is the evidence of absence."  Really, we shouldn't be swayed at all by spurious argumentation that has more to do with opinion than sound reasoning.  Absence of evidence is not evidence of anything.  Any quick-minded freshman knows that we cannot argue from what we do not know.  Hutchins's position ultimately is a matter of what he believes; it reflects his faith as an atheist only.  As an atheist, his faith appears as the mirror image of faith in God: it cannot admit to doubt.  Yet I have to wonder if Hitchens has ever had his doubts, such would be much more a crushing blow than the doubts of one of the faithful immersed in the steam of sorrows.

It is true that the experience of the absence of God can be the sign of greatness in faith.  I don't say this simply from the examples of many great saints and their dark nights, but from my understanding that if faith is to be measured it is often proportional to absence of certainty.  Recall that the writer of Hebrews teaches us that faith is evidence of things not seen.  When we believe in spite of everything in the world that challenges us and cries out for cosmic justice, we then might say that we truly have great faith.

I look to Blessed Teresa with great love and admiration.  She serves as an example who lifted me up out of my own time of doubt.  Great and efficacious are her prayers in heaven.  If I find myself in this life, or in what lies beyond, chastised only a little, then I also count it a great blessing that God gave me the knowledge to realize that my doubts and sufferings are signs of love, for he desires that I enter heaven purified.

Blessed Teresa is the icon, even the miracle, in my life.  It was she who years ago pointed the way of selfless service to those who are in need of mercy.  She demanded of my soul that I serve those who need God's mercy most.  Indeed I found a spiritual connection to her.  Now, years later, I find great joy in a work different but similar to hers.  In every suffering human that I encounter or touch as a part of my daily work, or even in each child or young person who expresses joy in being educated, I realize and see that God has given me the opportunity to gaze upon my Lord in their eyes.  Each and every hard or demanding day I receive as a gift from God. 

Every moment that I sense my own personal hardship I have the opportunity to join it to the suffering of Christ, both for my own sake and the sake of the whole world.  I often have doubts, really more often than you might think. Doubt is part of the Cross: it is the cry "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me."  To doubt but to move forward in a passionate manner and serve Christ in others is indeed the sign of sainthood, yet for me I take my doubt, as well as my daily hardships, as penitential--seeing as how I am yet far from being saintly--and even in penance it is a great spiritual gift.

Doubt yes, but, Mr. Hitchens, we do have evidence.  It is not the evidence that you would accept, it will never be found in the certainty and objectivity that you would like, and it is evidence that will always be denied to the eyes of the enemy.  But still someday you might see it too--there is always that chance.  It is the evidence that gives itself to us in places that you would not count as evidence. We find it in our determination to love and serve others in spite of our greatest doubts.  It is the evidence of unknowing; the mirror image of not-faith.  Perhaps Blessed Teresa will be named a saint not in spite of her doubts, but because of them.

Comments

[JustMe]

Indeed; and satan will be foiled, as will be that dufus, Hitchens. How anyone could even give him space in print is baffling. He makes it so hard, with this second attack on Mother, for others to pray for his saving.

At any rate, I love that picture you've posted. You know, we all (if we opt to love) go through a dark night of the soul. Sometimes days, sometimes weeks, months, and yes, years. It's no different than what old marriages weather. A lack, a very serious one, is the feeling of there being no one on the other end. I have a friend who has 9 kids, endless grandkids, a growing group of "greats," and she lives with her daughter, and they gather with the family often and go out a lot. But she feels alone, if blessed. She's a widow. She's been a widow for a long time. Her heart still believes in Doug, but her mind knows that it doesn't know anything about him, now. In a manner of speaking, so was Mother Teresa a widow. A widow of Love. She had met her Beloved, but all she had left for 50 years was the love of His love to work with. Indeed, she will be declared a saint because of her emptiness.. which still managed to train many other Sisters, and eased so many, many lives.

:-) I'm glad you wrote of her.