Dear
Friends,
Bright skies
were overwhelmed by darkness on September 11, 2001. That darkness lingers in
Americans even to this day. Even though the darkness recedes into some hidden
place in our being, we carry that darkness because we can do nothing else.
Darkness is a companion of life. How we hold it within us is the important
thing.
Were you
surprised looking at the front page of the Democrat
& Chronicle on Sept. 4th to see (the new) Saint Teresa of
Kolkata described as being a woman whose inner life was steeped in darkness? By
her own admission, she had known from the late 1950’s a spiritual dryness – what
Saint John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul.” In bits and
pieces, this is what Saint Teresa said of herself over the years: “In my soul I
feel just that terrible pain of loss of God not wanting me – of God not being
God – of God not existing...I find no words to express the depths of the
darkness…If I ever become a saint, I will surely be one of the ‘darkness’.”
And yet she
served the poor faithfully, found Jesus in the needy, admonished would-be missionaries
who wanted to join her to stay home because the poor are there as well. Saint
Teresa was impelled by the love of God, and that is what sustained her through
the darkness.
You and I,
like Teresa, have a spiritual life, be it big or small, ripening or waning. As
with so many other aspects of our life, we’d like to be in control of our
spiritual journey – in charge, so to speak. We’d like to say “Now. This much and
no more. No. I can’t hear you, God. How about doing it this way.”
We miss the
point completely if, in talking about our spiritual life, we don’t spend time
with God in prayer. But “God and me” is not enough. With God, we embrace and are
embraced by others, serve others. Like Saint Teresa. Like the first responders
on 9/11.
We need to
work at our spiritual lives daily, yet not be satisfied that we are safely on
our way to some sort of spiritual success. Sometimes we over-plan our spiritual
lives, set limits or goals. But our relationship with God is about none of
these. It is about being open, paying attention to the small and the large
signals that come our way that help us move toward God even if we can’t see God
as we would like – even if we experience darkness and have no taste for God.
Every person
who wishes to grow into God needs time for quiet/solitude. Saint Teresa
certainly did. You do. I do. Quiet allows us to be astonished about what God is
doing in our midst or out there or in each of us. Peace requires a measure of
quiet. Find a place in the garden of your heart where peace can take root. Take
time – even if only minutes – for quiet.
Thomas
Merton once observed that “When we pray, we are always in over our heads.” We
swim against God, at times, resist God because we don’t want to challenge our
complacencies, patterns, the sinfulness we are somehow comfortable in. We may
even like our misery. Don’t take that away. What does it take not to swim
against God? For one thing, relax. Let God be God. Allow yourself to be
cherished, treasured, held close by God .
If need be,
emulate Teresa of Kolkata. Don’t be afraid to live in the darkness for a while.
God will find you there.
~ Sister Joan
Sobala
