Faith & Mother Theresa's Letters

Mother Theresa

Faith is a funny thing. During a heart-felt spiritual discussion with a friend of mine one time, the question arose at one point, “What do you think about the letters Mother Theresa wrote about not feeling God’s presence in her life like she used to when she first became a nun?”

My response to my friend was as follows: “It gives me great comfort.” As someone who has felt called by God into the world of ministry, there is nothing more frustrating than going through those “wilderness” times when, as someone who is perceived as being “more in tune” with God than other people, that we would feel this same sense of abandonment at times. Believe it or not, there were long moments in seminary and in ministry when I felt God had led me somewhere, dropped me off, then forgot to come back and get me, like the parent who forgot to pick you up after soccer practice. There were times when I sat on the phone with friends, like the one mentioned above, and went, “What have I done? Why on earth did I do this??? I really do think I need to have my head examined!!!”

There is a truth that I think people need to know about pastors, a truth we don’t always like to admit to because so many people look to us because of our “strong faith,” but the ugly truth is this: we don’t constantly feel the Spirit working in our lives. Pastors see the ugly underside of people’s lives on a daily basis. The brokenness, the hurt, the grief, the sadness—and yes, it makes even us wonder at times, “Where are you now, God?” At times like these, I look at the televangelists who are always talking about how they always feel God’s spirit, and I start to wonder…why don’t I? Why is it that sometimes, I just don’t feel it? Does that mean I misinterpreted my calling? What does that say about my faith?

Here’s the irony that we need to understand…it’s at times like this that faith is at its strongest! Sounds bizarre, I know. But the fact is those are the times when I rely most heavily on my faith—when I feel the most abandoned and alone, because as we are told in Hebrews 11:1, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Faith is when we cling to something we do not hear, see or even feel at the moment. Those moments of going “I know you’re there somewhere God, but it sure feels like you’re taking a long holiday on this one.” When we have clarity, during those times we do feel God’s presence, our faith is actually reduced—because we feel it, we experience it, and we don’t have to rely so heavily on “faith.” We are like Thomas sticking our hands in Jesus’ side at that moment, feeling the Spirit flowing freely and working on us. Faith is when we don’t feel that. Faith is when we feel abandoned, feel forsaken like Christ on the cross crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” but still cling to a hope and knowledge that despite how we feel at the moment, God is still there—somewhere. Christ knew he would be resurrected—but at that moment, he also knew for the first time in his life, that he didn’t feel the close communion with God he had lived with for the past thirty-some years of his earthly journey as a human being. Christ became his most human at that moment and entered into what we all feel as human beings—abandoned by God. 

So Mother Theresa’s letters were a wonderful way to let the rest of the people out there who go through those same moments know—they’re not alone. Yes, even those who are called into ministry go through this. Even the Son of God himself cried out, feeling abandoned. We have our ups and our downs. Faith isn’t about constantly “feeling” God’s presence. Faith is about believing when you don’t feel and you don’t see. And we have a great cloud of witnesses that have gone before us, who have testified to the ways in which God has worked in their lives. Yet, even those who testify rely on faith, rely on the unseen, rely on those moments of clinging to what seems so far away and distant, knowing that what we have experienced is not unique, but is part of a long tradition of faith-filled people who have not only experienced God in their lives, but experienced those periods when faith was all we had.

“Blessed are those who have not seen, yet believe.” (John 20:29)