Suffering Absence in Hope of Presence
In an earlier post I recommended Benedict XVI’s Encyclical, Spe Salvi, for Advent reading. But it is (in the Augustinian sense) a “weighty” and lengthy document.
In the meantime, one could hardly do better than meditate on John O’Callaghan’s lovely reflection in the current Commonweal: “Her Dark Night.” Here is the passage that most struck me:
Faith, in the sense of fidelity, is neither emotional stability nor an
attitude to a set of propositions. It is an adherence of the will to
some good; it is constancy. No one has claimed that Teresa of Calcutta
ever ceased to adhere to the object of her faith, whatever her mood,
whatever her doubts. On the contrary, there is ample evidence that she
stood fast from the day God first bound her to himself. The depth of
Mother Teresa’s sense of abandonment would seem to be a measure of her
love-and of the strength of her initial union with God. From those to
whom much has been given, much is demanded. It is no judgment on those
of us to whom God has not granted such a sense of union that his
absence doesn’t cause us to suffer as much as it caused her to suffer.
But it may be a judgment on us if, in our industriousness and
distraction, we do not feel that absence at all.
I suppose the Pope would only add: “faith, in the sense of hope.” In such hope we find salvation: the promise of presence.
1 . Can anyone say–with any kind of assurance at all–that Mother Teresa’s experience was the result of some direct intervention in her psyche by God? Is this consistent with the way theologians think of God? (I have absolutely no idea. That’s why I am asking the question.) Does God have reasons? Did he say to himself, “I will withhold every consolation from Teresa so that she will not become preoccupied with her own undeniable holiness”? And then did he intervene in the natural order so that she had no sense of his presence? (Or is the sense of his presence something outside the natural order that he merely withdraws in a case like this?)
2. And if God turns on and off the sense of his presence for each individual, why doesn’t he turn it on for Christopher Hitchens and Daniel Dennett (and everbody else)?
It is question 1 that I am primarily interested in. Is John P. O’Callaghan’s speculation about Mother Teresa’s experiences in harmony with the way contemporary theology conceives of God acting in the world? Did God hear Mother Teresa’s prayers begging him to restore to her a sense of his presence, and did he consider what she was asking and say no?
Mother Teresa’s sufferings remind me of a story I once read about the Jews at Auschwitz.
The Jews were distraught that such a terrible place could exist, so they went to the Rabbis and asked, “How is it possible that God would allow us to suffer so?” The Rabbis said they would study the question.
They studied the question and returned to the people and said, “We have studied the question carefully and we conclude that that is no God. Let us now say our evening prayers.”
David –
1. Can we ever say that we are aware of *anyone’s’ interior experiences? I think not. But I think it’s reasonable to assume that an otherwise sane and truthful person would tell the truth as best she can about her experiences. But as always with mystics, there are severe semantic problems: what *sense* does she give her words? And what was she referring to? There’s the rub. (And I must confess, I find that Mother Teresa seems to tend a tiny bit to the dramatic at times, though it’s obvious she suffered terribly and constantly most of her adult life.)
As to God intervening in some souls, it seems to me He intervenes in all souls all the time with His graces, but the graces differ according to our different needs. As the article points out, maybe Mother Teresa needed *not* to be aware of God all the time.
At least one 20th century Catholic scholar, R.C. Zaehner of Oxford, maintained that only *some* of the experiences which many mystics say are ‘meetings with God” are in fact some sort of intuition of God.. See Zaehner’s “Mysticism: Sacred and Profane”. It’s a controversial book, but Merton said he “liked what Zaehner is doing”.
As to the possibility of God’s intervening in souls, what’s to prevent Him from allowing souls to meet Him “face to face”? We’re all of us aware of our own self-presence (think Descartes), so why would it be impossible for us to be aware of a second spirit’s presence within our consciousness — a presence which is already within us anyway? I mean God, of course. Sure, this is not usual, but so what? Does God have to treat us all alike? Given that God made our bodies different I would find it very strange if there were no spiritual differences among us.
2. Why doesn’t He show Hitchens His presence? I don’t doubt that if Hitchens needed such intuitions that God would give them to him.
I don’t know how contemporay theologians think of God as acting in the world. Maybe someone could enlighten us. I do know that some of the medievals thought that whenever we apply positive concepts such as “reason” to God, the concepts can represent Him only partially. God’s infinite reality so exceeds our own tiny bit of reality that we cannot possibly understand His “reasons” completely. He must remain mysterious to us not because of what *He* is, but because of what *we* are — exceedingly limited creatures.
We’re all of us aware of our own self-presence
I have pondered this question and cannot escape the conclusion that our own self is also a mystery. I tend to agree with the entire self/no-self Buddhist concept. It coheres with the presence/absence of God.
What we refer to as self-presence in the presence of God, may be a construction of our own ego (our notion of our-self). Consequently, our constructions and understanding of the presence of God in our prayer may be similarly illusory.
That is not to say that the self nor God exist. It does mean, that silence and a detached approach to self and God can bring us to that ground of creativity and birthing of God. (I am a huge fan of Meister Eckhart).
I am also an existentialist philosophically. Kierkegaard’s famous, ‘God does not think, He creates. He does not exist, He’s eternal’ has always rang true for me somehow.
George,
May I recommend Michael Buckley’s book, Denying and Disclosing God, especially the last two chapters where he draws upon John of the Cross and the “dark night” as purifying our illusions and projections regarding God.
Thanks to George and Ann for their interesting responses, and special thanks for book recommendations (I love book recommendations!).
But does anyone know the answer to my primary question? Is the proposed explanation of Mother Teresa’s long “dark night” consistent with the way theologians think of God’s interactions with human beings? If you said to a contemporary, mainstream Catholic theologian, “I think God withheld every consolation from Teresa so that she would not become preoccupied with her own undeniable holiness,” would the theologian say, “Ah, yes, that is the kind of thing God does”?
I don’t know about the preoccupation explanation, David, but the explanation I’ve heard and read about most often for Mother Teresa’s deep sense of abandonment makes sense to me.
Mother Teresa prayed fervently to share in Christ’s Passion, and she was rewarded, as few people have been, with actual participation in what was perhaps the most difficult aspect of the Passion, i.e., Christ’s sense of total abandonment from the Father during the Crucifixion. It took years for Mother Teresa to understand that she was being rewarded, not punished, and the realization came only with the help of one of her confessors.
William,
So what you are saying is that Mother Teresa prayed for something (to share in Jesus’s suffering), and God answered her prayers (by withdrawing a sense of his presence), and one of her confessor explained to her God’s actions (God withdrew the sense of his presence so Teresa could share in Jesus’s sense of abandonment).
I have read that, too. What I am anxious to find out is what a theologian would make of it. Does God answer prayers, and especially does he answer them by taking some action he would not otherwise have taken? Does God directly affect people’s minds either by granting or withhold a sense of his presence? When someone prays, does God listen, consider what the person says, and then make a decision about what to do? Can we change God’s mind about something. And if we do, does God take direct action and manipulate the natural order in response?
I only know in my own request for “the cross of Christ”, which has been given in abundance–physically as well as the “dark night”–and that I have also given “ALL” in return… and people
around me do not want to be part of this kind of gifting as far as thembelves are concerned. I was told by a superior (a women religious) “people do not share your fervor” (but my fervor is commendable, said she.) I wondered about that–because it is in that kind of giving that God truly gives back ALL! THAT is the message I try to give–so why do not people hear that for themselves? What has intellectualism, modernity, and all done to this fervor? I noted the article “Saved by Jesus’ Blood in this edition and noted what Mr. Burke said about the fundamentalists being so fervent–and, wanted him to know that there are intelligent and incouciant, educated Catholics witht he same fervor! I personally know them around m, too! And they, too, have “dark nights”! So fear not! It is not lost–AND, yes, God DOES answer prayers of this sort because it is for the greater good!