Mother Dear...

Spending an hour of quiet moments at Mother's tomb is not only a rare privilege, but also a precious opportunity. I must be honest to accept that I was not a fan of Mother when she was alive; I had my own reservations about her way of looking at reality, and sometimes I had a divergent view. But over the past one year, my appreciation of Mother's works and her life has changed much of my thinking. Going through 'Come Be My Light : The Private Writings of the "Saint of Calcutta"', edited with commentary by Brian Kolodiejchuk, had disturbed me a lot, so much so I had to seek the help of my spiritual director.

I was not much fascinated by the name and fame that she acquired due to her work for the poor and the neglected in society; but I was touched by the simplicity and transparency with which she went through the dark nights of her soul. Even in the midst of darkest clouds, she was able to sight the silver line, and that was her great consolation. She was on the verge of losing her faith in God, and was often assailed by meaninglessness in life, and yet she knew that the hand of God would lead her through. That unshakable faith in God of life is what I often look up to.

As I sit a few feet away from the place where her mortal remains had been buried, I would like to imagine a current passing from her mortal remains to my body, instilling in me, a fraction of the spirit she carried wherever she went, fearlessly standing for what she was convinced; she could not be stopped by anyone, neither soldiers, nor guns, neither religious fanaticism nor regionalism. She was above all that divided the society, and her service flowing out of love for her Lord and Master, made her a sui generis. Today I should be asking myself if my service to humanity is in fact flowing out of my love for the Lord to whom I have committed myself for life!

I look up, and see a stream of people entering into the hallowed ground, touching their heads on the marble stones, which have hugged the saint of the gutters, so that no one can do her any harm, and I feel these people know no religion. Mother Teresa, though a professed Catholic, but to the people of other faiths, she gave not Christ, but His love, service, and ever abounding care and concern. Most often in life, she was able to go beyond the narrow categories we have made for our own survival. Today we will be able to find answer to many of the ills haunting our society, if only we are able to go beyond our narrow religious limits.

I try to seek a few quiet moments in her presence, whenever time permits, and what do I seek from God through her intercession? I have been born poor, and had been living like a poor, but there are all the dangers for me to distance myself from the poor I had been growing up. My education, social status (as a religious priest, belonging to a particular congregation), my contacts, all of them have made me a separate class. The poor when they stand close to me, think that I am no more one of them. This is what I dearly seek through the kindness of Blessed Teresa, that I can tell even on the verge of death knocking at my door, that I was born a poor, lived the life of a poor and was dying like one too. What great honor could I then expect?