Matt Moore's Tear me down provided a sound track to my prayer
Matthew 25:40 - “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”
These words provided the basis for Mother Teresa to see Jesus in the distressing disguise of all those around her. She gave each individual her complete attention as though adoring her saviour.
This thought has combined with another to truly distress me this week. I have written before about how Ed Stetzer spoke at district council and God spoke to me in his words. He convicted me of my distaste for working class culture, my pride and prejudice. For what ever reason, God has placed me in a village of people who worked in factories, and convenience stores and farms, who shop at wallmart and use questionable grammar. I am not in Ann Arbor or Northfield. I am not an Episcopalian or an academic, though my mind and preferences might be at home there. I truly love those He has given me charge over. But can I love their culture? Can I minister effectively with in it? Or do I try to make them enlightened espresso drinking conteplatves?
Enter Mother Teresa. Her unflinching acceptance of the poor of a culture not her own strikes me. Can I? Can I abandon my self, pride, and preference to love Christ in those around me?
I prayed this after noon for that kind of love. I have never been so over come with such unpleasant emotion before, not as an adult any way. I wailed in desperation, I felt nauseous. It was like a child at the end of a tantrum who can no longer cry properly, red-faced, choking and gaging on their tears. If anyone had come into the church then, they would have thought something was not right with me and they would have been right. I’m not sure what it was. Was it my being torn down? Was it a war with some spirit who would have kept me down? Was it the burden for the people? It strikes me now as I write, the cries of agony and the physical pain and nausea were perhaps like Jesus would have felt - in the garden - looking over Jerusalem - on the cross when he said, “I thirst.” It was an utter desperation.
Oh God my I truly see only you in the faces of my village. May I see only you in the distressing disguise of the working poor. May I see only you in walmart. See only your thirsting lips in place of the profane and ungrammatical. Change me, and break me!
Showing posts with label Mother Teresa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother Teresa. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Saints of service
At first thought one might place Mother Teresa in the Social Justice stream of Christianity. As I think on her life though, I see a mix of influences, Holiness and Contemplative, but the most predominate being the Incarnational life.
“The Incarnational Stream of Christian life and faith,” says Foster, “focuses upon making present and visible the realm of the invisible spirit. This sacramental way of living addresses the crying need to experience God as truly manifest and notoriously active in daily life” (237).
In his appendix, Foster lists Mother Teresa as an example of Social Justice, but I find her actions more directed toward making the love of God manifest to the poor, making His Kingdom felt, than addressing the underlying causes of injustice. She made this sacramental way of life an entry point to the life of the Spirit and experienced it hand in hand with the contemplative life, calling her sisters “Contemplatives in the wold,” all the while demanding a high standard of holiness, determined to offer saints to Jesus.
Mother Teresa seemed always to hear Jesus calling her beyond herself. From her “second vocation to the poor,” to her abandoning her preferences and comforts to become a world media figure she was growing and stretching always. In her later years she perhaps took so hard a line on holiness she may have bordered on legalism were in not for her persistent love.
Mother Teresa would readily recognize the grace of God in her life from an early age. As young Agnes Bojaxhiu, daughter of Drana, grew up, her mother was a constant source of Formation for her. “At least once a week Drana would visit an old woman who had been abandoned by her family, to take her food an clean her house. She washed and fed and cared for File, an alcoholic woman covered with sores as if she was a small child” (Spink 7). Agnes accompanying her mother to visit File would create a powerful model for her as she later ministered to the poorest of the poor, lonely and forgotten. Her visits to the shrine of the Madonna of Letnice as a child would provide a conteplative basis for her life. She would identify herself always with the contemplative Thérèsa of Lisieux.
She was completely grounded in the institutional Catholic Church, first receiving formation in the Loreto order then creating the Missionaries of Charity as a Catholic Order. She was completely devoted to Catholic orthodoxy and the Pope, yet she ministered to, and cooperated with people from every creed.
Teresa always saw the political workings as the hand of God. She did not get involved in politics except to call for peace and love, trusting the leaders to do their duty in the end. She saw the crumbling of Communism as an opening door to spread tender love to the poor in those lands. Her ministry was not restricted to those who agreed with her, even staunch atheists would cooperate with her in Cuba, the Soviet, and other places.
In a wold of growing affluence and separation from the poor, her ministry to the poorest of the poor as though each one was Jesus in “distressing disguise” was and remains a prophetic word. She did much to proclaim the kingdom of God without preaching or giving an “altar call.”
Is there a difference between a saint and an ordinary person with an extraordinary desire and willingness to serve God? Mother Teresa was in her energy and determination a human dynamo, perhaps an extraordinary human power, but her formation in the selfless way of Christ, her consistent treatment of each individual as Christ in disguise shows her to be a saint. We are all called to such saintliness.
Elaine Martin is another such saint. Her faithfulness and fruit show her devotion to God. Her life of service to people shines as an example of the compassionate life. She grew up in a Lutheran home and appreciated her mother’s efforts to instill in her a spirituality.
It wasn’t until she went through a divorce that she began seeking a deeper relationship with God. Through a divorce support group at a church she found the depths she sought, along with the in-filling of the Spirit. The loneliness of the single life, the pain of divorce and concern for her family has been a challenge for her. She moved back to the Sebewaing area to be with her father before he died, caring for him, and praying him to Christ.
Over the years she has felt God call her to “come along side” individuals needing care and support. She has been a live in aide for many people. As a single woman she is surprised by the way God works, over recent years the people she has been directed to have been men. Sometimes her supportive relationships have raised eyebrows but she has remained faithful to do what God has called her to do.
She is a free spirit, at home anywhere with God. She goes where ever the Spirit directs her, so no one church has had a claim on her, though she lists many that have had a strong impact on her spiritually.
She is a prayer warrior and offers her devotion to God along with the person she is serving. She often makes use of the daily scriptures from the Book of Common Prayer we print in our bulletin, reading and praying with her neighbor each day. She is in her seventies and her neighbor, who she is serving is in his eighties. She remains vigorous and her service and support have been meaningful to me as her pastor.
Mother Teresa also challenges me. The service of the poorest of the poor, not just as though they were Christ, but actually seeing the suffering Christ in them, is a thought is forming and shaping me. I am wrestling lately with how meet the needs of the blue collar culture I am in. Mother Teresa challenges me to love them, though I gravitate to the intellectual and liberal postmodern crowd, she challenges me to see Christ wearing the blue collar garb of the workers in Sebewaing. Lord help me find ways to serve like Elaine and make of me a saint in the mold of Mother, with eyes only for you.
“The Incarnational Stream of Christian life and faith,” says Foster, “focuses upon making present and visible the realm of the invisible spirit. This sacramental way of living addresses the crying need to experience God as truly manifest and notoriously active in daily life” (237).
In his appendix, Foster lists Mother Teresa as an example of Social Justice, but I find her actions more directed toward making the love of God manifest to the poor, making His Kingdom felt, than addressing the underlying causes of injustice. She made this sacramental way of life an entry point to the life of the Spirit and experienced it hand in hand with the contemplative life, calling her sisters “Contemplatives in the wold,” all the while demanding a high standard of holiness, determined to offer saints to Jesus.
Mother Teresa seemed always to hear Jesus calling her beyond herself. From her “second vocation to the poor,” to her abandoning her preferences and comforts to become a world media figure she was growing and stretching always. In her later years she perhaps took so hard a line on holiness she may have bordered on legalism were in not for her persistent love.
Mother Teresa would readily recognize the grace of God in her life from an early age. As young Agnes Bojaxhiu, daughter of Drana, grew up, her mother was a constant source of Formation for her. “At least once a week Drana would visit an old woman who had been abandoned by her family, to take her food an clean her house. She washed and fed and cared for File, an alcoholic woman covered with sores as if she was a small child” (Spink 7). Agnes accompanying her mother to visit File would create a powerful model for her as she later ministered to the poorest of the poor, lonely and forgotten. Her visits to the shrine of the Madonna of Letnice as a child would provide a conteplative basis for her life. She would identify herself always with the contemplative Thérèsa of Lisieux.
She was completely grounded in the institutional Catholic Church, first receiving formation in the Loreto order then creating the Missionaries of Charity as a Catholic Order. She was completely devoted to Catholic orthodoxy and the Pope, yet she ministered to, and cooperated with people from every creed.
Teresa always saw the political workings as the hand of God. She did not get involved in politics except to call for peace and love, trusting the leaders to do their duty in the end. She saw the crumbling of Communism as an opening door to spread tender love to the poor in those lands. Her ministry was not restricted to those who agreed with her, even staunch atheists would cooperate with her in Cuba, the Soviet, and other places.
In a wold of growing affluence and separation from the poor, her ministry to the poorest of the poor as though each one was Jesus in “distressing disguise” was and remains a prophetic word. She did much to proclaim the kingdom of God without preaching or giving an “altar call.”
Is there a difference between a saint and an ordinary person with an extraordinary desire and willingness to serve God? Mother Teresa was in her energy and determination a human dynamo, perhaps an extraordinary human power, but her formation in the selfless way of Christ, her consistent treatment of each individual as Christ in disguise shows her to be a saint. We are all called to such saintliness.
Elaine Martin is another such saint. Her faithfulness and fruit show her devotion to God. Her life of service to people shines as an example of the compassionate life. She grew up in a Lutheran home and appreciated her mother’s efforts to instill in her a spirituality.
It wasn’t until she went through a divorce that she began seeking a deeper relationship with God. Through a divorce support group at a church she found the depths she sought, along with the in-filling of the Spirit. The loneliness of the single life, the pain of divorce and concern for her family has been a challenge for her. She moved back to the Sebewaing area to be with her father before he died, caring for him, and praying him to Christ.
Over the years she has felt God call her to “come along side” individuals needing care and support. She has been a live in aide for many people. As a single woman she is surprised by the way God works, over recent years the people she has been directed to have been men. Sometimes her supportive relationships have raised eyebrows but she has remained faithful to do what God has called her to do.
She is a free spirit, at home anywhere with God. She goes where ever the Spirit directs her, so no one church has had a claim on her, though she lists many that have had a strong impact on her spiritually.
She is a prayer warrior and offers her devotion to God along with the person she is serving. She often makes use of the daily scriptures from the Book of Common Prayer we print in our bulletin, reading and praying with her neighbor each day. She is in her seventies and her neighbor, who she is serving is in his eighties. She remains vigorous and her service and support have been meaningful to me as her pastor.
Mother Teresa also challenges me. The service of the poorest of the poor, not just as though they were Christ, but actually seeing the suffering Christ in them, is a thought is forming and shaping me. I am wrestling lately with how meet the needs of the blue collar culture I am in. Mother Teresa challenges me to love them, though I gravitate to the intellectual and liberal postmodern crowd, she challenges me to see Christ wearing the blue collar garb of the workers in Sebewaing. Lord help me find ways to serve like Elaine and make of me a saint in the mold of Mother, with eyes only for you.
Distressing Disguise
Several months ago I was wrestling with the idea that Jesus could be found in the hurting around me when I wrote:
Now as I encounter Mother Teresa's conviction that we find Jesus in "Distressing disguise" around us, I rejoice in confirmation of the idea. It isn't some wild fantasy I was entertaining when I asked "could it be?" but rather a truth revealed to saints through the ages - a truth I have come to embrace and is shaping me.
I can’t understand the image of Christ as stranger. How could he come to those beloved disciples on the road to Emmaus unrecognized? How could he be naked, poor, imprisoned, and we not see him there? How could he, my dear heart, be the stinking, cursing, drunk and homeless? Could he be my neighbor John who riding is bicycle home from the bar, at two AM, went over the handlebars and broke his nose? Could it have been Jesus I drove home with tears in his eyes and pain in his body? It is hard for me to see Jesus there, not because I don’t think he would stoop so low, but because I love him and don’t want to see blood pour from his nose or tears from his eyes. What would it mean to see my Jesus in all those around me? Is he there in people I know, and who don’t even know him, or just in strangers? Does he visit in the familiar as well as the strange? Perhaps he does, perhaps his incarnation is both in us as his hands and feet and in the fleshly suffering of those around us. Perhaps his paschal mystery continues in all who are hurting, naked and abandoned, just as his advent happens in us as we engage them in service and hospitality.
Seeing our neighbors and strangers as Jesus can be difficult precisely because we cannot see Jesus as coming to us in the form of a sinner.
Now as I encounter Mother Teresa's conviction that we find Jesus in "Distressing disguise" around us, I rejoice in confirmation of the idea. It isn't some wild fantasy I was entertaining when I asked "could it be?" but rather a truth revealed to saints through the ages - a truth I have come to embrace and is shaping me.
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