Mother Teresa's Prayer

Originally published on Desicritics on Feb. 4, 2008

Puja, worship, invocation, prayer, namaz, dua, salvat, bhajan, meditation, praise, astute; the words are not synonymous. Each person involved in such acts brings with him or her personal understanding, personal cultural experience and personal interpretation of the reason for such acts. Each mind and heart experiences worship differently through the interactions stemming from experience and existence, dare I use the word, existentially. Each worshipper has a cognitive set, emotional baggage, cultural learning. Even the artifacts which surround the one performing namaz are totally different. How utterly different is the Badshahi Mosque from the Indian temple mandira, such as the Gopuram of South India! The motive for the prayers may vary as well. Some pray for a special blessing, some for forgiveness, some for physical health, and some even for wealth. A few pray to praise, repeating over and over how wonderful and powerful God is; are they hoping He will hear their praises and recognize their obeisance for… Others mutilate, flagellate themselves hoping that will show their devotion and thus garner something from Allah.

For one, with eyes open staring at a lingam, the statue, the bringing of flowers, the pouring of oil, the bowing and chanting may represent hope, a wish that a power greater than self will look with favor and grant the supplicant’s mundane yet heartfelt desire; to bear a child, to overcome an illness, to feed a family. To another who kneels in the cathedral with eyes closed to shut out earthly and physical surroundings, prayer may be a means to commune with God almighty on a one-to-one basis, to request forgiveness for sins, to give thanks to a personal God who attends, listens to; such a one prays for answers, gives praise, extols, and murmurs in the ear of the Almighty, hallelujah. Among hundreds gathered together in Lahore to perform namaz, to prostate themselves and intone holy words is to carry out the meaning of islam, subjugation of self before the one god, Allah and commune with other faithful and extol the attributes of the Almighty, the Merciful. Others in Ludhiana may sit together and sing, hum, play drums and musical instruments and make a joyful noise to khuda and feel the fervor of worship in bhajan, become invigorated with the eternal rhythms.

Mother Teresa’s personal letters published after her death reveal yet another meaning of prayer and worship. She expressed joy in 1931 when she took her first vows as a nun and wrote to a friend, “If you could know how happy I am, as Jesus’ little bride.” Those words evoke strong physical meaning, as does the act of prostration on the floor, arms and legs akimbo in the act of complete spiritual surrender to the bridegroom, Jesus, or walking into the church wearing bridal clothing. Some nuns wear a wedding ring.

Teresa perceives a dialogue with the almighty.

JESUS) Wilt thou refuse to do this for me?...You have become my Spouse for my love—you have come to India for Me. The thirst you had for souls brought you so far—Are you afraid to take one more step for Your Spouse—for me—for souls? Is your generosity grown cold? Am I second to you?

Teresa) Jesus, my own Jesus—I am only Thine—I am so stupid—I do not know what to say but do with me whatever you wish…” Time, September 3, 2007, page 39As a teacher in Calcutta with the Loreto Sisters on the way to Darjeeling she reported that Christ again spoke personally to her to work with people in the slums of the Calcutta with the poor, the sick the dying. “Come be my light.”

She embarks on her mission after 1948 but soon thereafter she experiences abandonment. “Lord, God, who am I that You should forsake me? The Child of your love—and now become as the most hated one—the one—You have thrown away as unwanted—unloved. I call, I cling I want—and there is no One to answer—no One on whom I can cling--.”

Teresa’s faith takes on a desperation stemming from unbelief, disbelief, emptiness because her prayers rebounded back to her. She felt totally cut off from God. She doubted the existence of her Lord. Yet she continued to do her work, continued to serve the needy, continued to hold her rosary and move the beads through her fingers.

Now, in retrospect the armchair religious analysts make their interpretations, those who find divine purpose in the fact ‘that Teresa’s spiritual spigot went dry’; that she may have experienced abandonment by God by imposing it on herself; that she may have had a huge amount of cognitive dissonance, or that through all her struggles with faith that she “reveals herself as holier than anyone knew.”

She fought against pride in her entire life of service, fought against her own unbelief and perception of darkness and emptiness when she tried to pray, when she sought One to cling to. But she did her work; her ‘prayer’ was her service, her giving, not vast sums to build a cathedral or support a religious cause, but in her poverty, her penury she gives what she has, herself, to the service of the untouchables. Her salvat, her mukt was her consistent fight against self pride. She perceived an absence of God, yet found salvation in service and dedicating herself to her work to the end through giving.

Teresa had asked that her private letters and notes be kept secret after her death. They were not, nor were her requests carried out, the church over-ruled. Why? “Her Agony” in the Religion section of Time, written by David van Biema got lots of attention. It put her picture on the cover of this world class magazine to be read by tens of millions. It exposed her belief or lack of it, her secrets. Why? Her secret letters became tabloid stuff. (Who wants to read about quiet belief, joy, and peace?) What sells is trauma, agony, voyeuristic peeking into another’s struggle, and agony with faith. What could have been the church’s motivation to release her secret letters? They must answer.

Teresa’s life itself was a dua, a prayer, a dedication to her fellow men, to alleviate the suffering around her, to extend a helping, healing hand to those who suffered. She had no money to give to charity, she gave herself. Whatever her inner spiritual, philosophical struggle was, it was hers and should have remained hers, as words spoken by a ‘sinner’ in the confessional should remain hidden. Though she received Nobel accolades for peace on earth, her greatest achievement resides in the lives of those she touched; it is a prayer through giving. We are not known for what we receive, what we get, what we obtain. We are really only what we have given. It is not her agony that should be celebrated or remembered, rather her gifts to humanity, her love for others. She was a little light burning in a tiny clay dish.