Animated by Love

Some of our men have such an enormous amount of energy that I can hardly compete with them. I wonder from where they get so much energy to go on working almost like a machine. During the last few days of organizing a fitting farewell for one of our companions, I realized that many of us had put our shoulders together to make this a memorable day, and I do feel that our friend would be smiling even as I anticipate his reaction to our humble efforts. We have our differences, but when it comes to organizing an event such as this, our men do it wonderfully well. We can get over our differences, and think alike in getting the best of what we have and what we are. That is what I am thankful to God today, for our men who could give their best when needed.

Now coming to the secret of their energy, this is not something so very new and spectacular. I realize when we have love for a person or a group of people, we would go all extent to give our best for them, and that I realize is the secret of their immense energy. The love we had for this of our sick Brother, whose both the kidneys failed and was on dialysis twice a week, was something remarkable. Since I stayed in a house a little far from where this friend stayed, I could not spare much time for him, but those who were members of this community, had gone out of their way to be available to meet his needs, especially accompanying him to the hospital for dialysis and bringing him back… it was not an easy task, and they did this with great love.

Yesterday I had gone to the college to check certain things for today’s funeral, and I realized that three of our men who were involved with the preparations were not there, and I could guess that they might have gone out. And a little later I came to know from the notice board that they had gone to the market. When I had finished my other works and was about to leave, I saw these three men climbing up the stairs with lots of flowers. One of them said smiling “3 Idiots”, and I know he made a reference to the recent film of the same title, which supposedly showcased the achievements of three idiots. What a combination, I wondered for a while, and yet, when it came to preparations for the day, there was good understanding, and I had not seen them fighting over any silly things.

In fact, as we bade farewell to our friend, what I heard from several people who expressed their sentiments for him was so very heart-renting that I felt they had all experienced it. Our friend was known for having a special love for people who approached him for either a service, or favor or work done by him. He did it with great love, and during the lunch today one of the priests of the diocese said that the departed friend was going out of his way to make the Sisters happy and at home; he would take them by the vehicle and drop them at a place from where they could get express buses, and many people appreciated this gentle and lovely gesture of the man. He was not after money, or after name and fame; he was a simple man, who valued people for what they were, and he did not hesitate to make special provisions to accommodate them that they felt handled with great love and care.

If the man had so much of energy to be involved with so many works, and be on his toes to get different things going during his tenure as in-charge of the estate, it was just because he was in love with the place and the people, and that is what made many of the people to shed tears today, as his body was lowered to the tomb. One of the girls, aged some 12, was crying profusely, because she had seen him around as she grew from the age of 3 or 4, and she had known the man he was, and it might have been difficult for her to bid goodbye to him. If we are not able to give our full selves for the work assigned to us, or that we often get into problems completing the works or find it hard to work with co-workers, the first question that we need to ask ourselves is this : am I in love with the place and the people associated with this work, or am I doing it just as a job assigned to me. The aspect of doing anything for the love of the persons associated with, can make a lot of difference.

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?