More on Mother Teresa ,and all of us?

Jim Voog sent me over to Ron Rolhieser's site (www.ronrolheiser.com) for the article on Mother Teresa and her dark times and doubts. I recall that Rick A. pointed to that news as part of our church's weekly lectionary study group. It has gotten our attention. I've noticed that most of us in the faith community point to her experiences with appreciation and a sense of permission to share our own times in the dry or empty places in the journey. Some good blogs are out there about her experiences. Read Bishop Sally Dyck's blog , linked on this blog, also David Bard and Jeff Ozanne.

I also have a few rambles, loosely connected:
First, something from Carl Mahle, a retired United Methodist pastor in Alexandria I got to know, and admire, during my first year out of seminary. (I asked to wear his pulpit robe for my deacon's ordination.) Carl, made a comment that sometimes we just aren't able to believe or have faith; then we only need to just be there and let the faith community do the believing for us, just let it carry you along. He was talking about something from his own experience. I filed that in my mental notes for a later date. And a few years later, I needed to remember it. It was true.
Or...maybe thats something like Peter Bohler's words to a struggling John Wesley about "preach faith until you have faith".

The thing about the darkness of doubt or disbelief and disconnection to it all.... is that it is so frightening. I remember the first time, maybe in grade school, of even thinking deeply that maybe there was really no God. ...it was not real....did not feel real. I was afraid of even the thought, as if I had some dirty shameful idea that must never be told to anyone. Or was I afraid of what it might mean; some kind of existential aloneness? Maybe that is what being afraid of the dark is about?
Barbara Brown Taylor has a book called When God is Silent, as in "no word from the Lord," or the "hiddenness" of God.... A great comment on Job also. On pg 78 she presents a story from the Sufi tradition about a man who cried 'Allah! Allah' until his lips became sweet with the sound. A skeptic who heard him said, "Well! I have heard you calling out, but where is the answer to your prayer? Have you gotten a response?" The man had no answer to that. Sadly, he abandoned his prayers and went to sleep. In his dreams he saw Khazir, the soul guide. walking toward him through a garden.

"Why did you stop praising?" the saint asked him.
"Because I never heard anything back,' the man said.

"This longing you voice is the return message,"Khazir told him.

(Taylor then quotes Rumi)

The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union
Your pure sadness
that wants help
is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog
for its master.
That whining is the connection.

There are love dogs
no one knows the name of .

give your life
to be one of them.
.....
Finally, in my journal I have something from Henri Nouwen , that his prayer time was not a time "of deep prayer, nor a time in which I experience a special closeness to God; it is not a period of serious attentiveness to the divine mysteries. I wish it were! On the contrary, it is full of distractions, inner restlessness, sleepiness, confusion and boredom. It seldom, if ever,pleases my senses."

My journal entry (Jan 31, 2006) has this also on that same page, (from something I was reading)
--- "Mother Teresa of Calcutta, not long before her death was asked "How does it feel to be so close to God?'" She answered, 'Its been so long since I felt close to God that I don't remember what it feels like."

There is a reason I remember these things, or keep them in my journal. I need them. Some how this takes away some of the fear of darkness. We are not alone.

PS. Go see the entry also on the subject at http://33namesofgrace.blogspot.com