Mother Teresa: A Reflection On Taking Up Our Cross
I'm pondering this quote, "The more souls advance in the spiritual life, the more their interior sufferings resemble those of Jesus and Mary." Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange
I have completed reading Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, in my daily devotions. This is how I plan to share my final reflections with you. Today, I am writing about Mother Teresa’s obsession with Christ’s suffering and her belief that in her suffering she could assuage His suffering. This was, in my estimation, the primary motivation of her life and discipleship. That belief is revisited over and over again in her private writings recorded in the book. I wrote about this subject in my post of February 16. Having completed the book, I feel compelled to reflect on this theme a bit more because the idea does not ring true for me. The quote above from Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange in The Three Ages of Interior Life (1989) amplifies my search for meaning. In this post I will comment on one of the most challenging verses of the entire Bible from my personal experience.
In a final post about Mother Teresa (my next blog post), I will share some of the interesting and thought-provoking things that I have learned about her life and faith from reading the book.
Jesus said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel will save it.” - Mark 8:34-35 (similar versions in Matthew and Luke)
One of the primary questions of Bible study and reflection is “How do we interpret Scripture? Are we to interpret the words of Scripture literally, or figuratively and metaphorically?” The answer to the question will make all the difference in the world! Of course, the confounding answer is that some passages of Scripture are meant literally and some metaphorically. This leads to a second confounding question, “How do we know which passages to read literally and which are intended to be interpreted metaphorically?” Sometimes the answer is obvious. For example, “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out.” Many times the answer is not as obvious!
When Jesus commands us to “take up our cross” is that meant literally? Well, obviously not! It would be rather difficult to navigate life very long with a cross nailed to our hands and feet! What about a more metaphorical interpretation. Might we interpret the word “cross” as “suffering”? In other words, if you want to follow me, you must suffer. And then, if we are to suffer, is that physical suffering, spiritual suffering, or some combination? Further, is it descriptive (that to follow Jesus you must suffer) or prescriptive (that if you follow Jesus you are likely to, you will suffer in some ways)?
It seems that Mother Teresa interpreted the call to cross bearing more literally…even to the extreme to think that her suffering would assuage Jesus’ suffering; that her suffering would quench His “thirst” on the cross. She walks in the footsteps of others who had a similar belief. Namely, St. John of the Cross (1542-1591) and his contemporary and associate, Teresa of Avila, and later, St. Paul of the Cross (1694-1775).
I do not claim a deep knowledge of this subject, but I did note that the author of the book distinguishes between purgative suffering (think “purge” or Purgatory, the place to have our sins removed) and reparatory suffering. He says, “Mother Teresa’s agonizing and interminable darkness was reparatory rather than purgative. It was a participation in the saving of souls; she was following the example of Jesus her Master, and of His Blessed Mother, who suffered immensely, not to be purified from sin, but to save sinners.” In other words, Mother Teresa did not suffer for her own sin but for the repair and purification of her neighbor’s souls. Perhaps that is the path to sainthood!
In a bit of research on St. Paul of the Cross and St. John of the Cross, I found this quote about the latter to be quite interesting (maybe self-indicting?), “In his life and writings, John of the Cross has a crucial word for us today. We tend to be rich, soft, comfortable. We shrink even from words like self-denial, mortification, purification, asceticism, discipline. We run from the cross. John’s message—like the gospel—is loud and clear: Don’t—if you really want to live!”
Rich, soft, comfortable….ouch! Self-denial, mortification, purification, ascetism, and discipline - can anybody say it is Lent! It seems to me that suffering for the sake of suffering (even worse, to assuage Christ’s suffering) makes no sense. If God wants us to relieve our neighbor’s suffering (“As you did it to the least of these, you did it to me…), and Mother Teresa surely did with the poor of Calcutta, why would God want us to take on suffering? Isn’t that just transferring one person’s suffering to another?
Rather than physical suffering, when Lenten practices “feed the spirit,” perhaps that is the form of “taking up the cross” that Jesus exhorts. Self-denial takes the shape of neighbor love. Purification takes the shape of prayer. Asceticism takes the shape of generosity. That form of “suffering” prays “not my will, but Thy will be done.”
Perhaps the key to interpret the meaning of “suffering” and “cross bearing” comes in the verse that follows it, “those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for the sake of the gospel will save it.” I can surely say this has been true in my life as I have experienced it. (I hope that you will understand this as my personal witness and not some form of bragging.)
When Cindy and I discerned that I should make the “vocational change” from the business world to congregational ministry there was some “losing” involved. We lost a significant income. We lost proximity to our family and friends. We lost our children’s comfort with their schools and community. We lost our big home on Long Island. We lost what was known and comfortable for what was unknown and risky. All of that loss was exclusively for the sake of the gospel. We made the decision for one reason only; we felt that God was calling us to this. There was some interpretive sense of “suffering” in all of that.
Now, with that chapter of my life complete, I can say with absolute assurance that the loss of (Long Island) life was the gain (of Cincinnati) life. When I have compared my first career to my second career, I have concluded that my second career was far more deeply meaningful. That meaning came from a closer walk with Christ and with the saints. I can testify that losing my life for the sake of the gospel resulted in finding life. Isn’t that what so many of us have experienced, perhaps in smaller doses? I can’t tell you how many times we returned from disaster relief trips and participants said that they gained more than they lost from the experience. How about teaching Catechism class or Sunday School? How about delivering Meals on Wheels? How about donating blood?
I am not there yet! The words “rich, soft, and comfortable” still haunt and challenge me. There is more “cross bearing” to reflect upon; not so much physical suffering, but going deeper into neighbor love, self sacrifice, simplicity, and welcoming Jesus to soften my hard heart. Perhaps as I try to understand the quote above, it might be that I have advanced in my spiritual life as I have become more aware of and responsive to the suffering of Jesus and Mary in my neighbor.
Mother Teresa’s sense of darkness, abandonment, and suffering to satisfy Jesus leave me confused. The author, on one page (p.335) says, “Mother Teresa understood that God was madly in love with her,” and he says, “She had to rise above the pain of feeling unloved and unwanted by Jesus.” I suppose that was the “cross” that she had to bear. Surely, my “cross” has taken a different shape and so has my life.
Does this make any sense to you? How have you wrestled with Mark 8:34-35 and how has that verse given shape to your life? How do “rich, soft, and comfortable” vs. self denial speak to your life? What place does suffering have in your life? I am still a work in process and so are you. We need each other as we carry our crosses! May your Lenten practices continue for a lifetime!