Mother Teresa's Crisis of Faith

What are we now to do with the concept of "Mind, body, and spirit" related to the revelation of Mother Teresa's practically life-long crisis of faith?

For general background information on Mother Teresa's correspondence recently released as "Come be My Light," read the Time's article HERE; an interesting analysis of "Come be My Light" at Reformation21 HERE ; or Google "Mother Teresa's Crisis of Faith," for the 1,410,000 other hits on the web. Essentially, everyone seems to have an opinion, or an analysis to share, on this topic. I really don't have a position as to the meaning of Mother Teresa's self-admitted barren spiritual sense of Christ in her life. I don't know what it means - an indictment of Roman Catholicism? The end result of a works-centered salvation theology? A lengthy mystical "Dark Night of The Soul" charismatic experience? A life-long commitment to faith despite an absence of faith-correlated feelings? I really don't have an answer.

What I do have, though, are a number of questions about the priority, or weight, given to the realms of our existence. "Realms of our existence" sounds a little too 'new age' for me but it was the best I could come up with to approach the idea of the existence of the body, of the mind and of the spirit. Why should we be interested in thinking about these potential divisions within our existence? Well, if there is a foundational Truth - a teleological basis for my existence - then wouldn't my entire being - mind, body and spirit - be either in alignment or discord with it? Which is where the really interesting questions begin to happen, for me at least, in that it seems I might experience conflict among my three potential realms of existence in relation to the Truth.

This seems to me the jumping off point for most of the thought regarding Mother Teresa - she professed a faith (spirit?), seemingly acted long-term on that faith (body), and yet was admittedly devoid of the feelings most would associate with that faith (mind). Certainly an internal conflict in relation to (her?) Truth. And while the masses seem content to weigh-in with arguments regarding the validity of her chosen truth as the answer to her spiritual desolation - I'm not so sure - or I am at least reluctant at this point to jump on that wagon. Can it not be that any single human, even having got the Truth right, might not experience a conflict in relation to it? As I heard recently - "Christ is not a feeling - to search with the heart is futile." If this is so (and I suspect that it is), then the absence of a feeling of unity with Christ is evidence of - nothing, really. But I'm ahead of myself here.

Let me pick the low-hanging fruit first - very few would dispute the existence of the body. There are some fringe philosophical arguments (ontological solipsism or the 'brain-in-a-vat' a la Matrix theory) that suggest the physical world, and all contained in it, is just a projection or representation of thought. However, while these are some pretty sophisticated theories, they bear little resemblence to what you and I experience on a daily basis. When I stub my toe, it hurts - therefore, I admit the existence of my body and of the physical world. Interestingly, the guy that contributed the most in philosophical thought to the problem of existence, Rene Descarte, arrived at admitting his existence not through a reflection on the physical but of thought - "Cogito ergo Sum," loosely - "I think, therefore, I am." Which leads me nicely into the much deeper waters of mind and spirit.

First, is there an actual division between mind and spirit? Or do they just collapse into a single entity? Freud would say that they collapse - alternatively, a close reading of Kierkegaard and Kant would suggest that they don't. You can do your own research to reach your own conclusion, but I'm going to define my position on this with a few simple statements and one anecdote.

Certainly, the mind exists - my mind exists, or I wouldn't be having these thoughts (and, as another reference to the body - I wouldn't be seeing these words appear on my computer screen). I think I'm pretty solid on my body and mind existing! But what about my spirit - what is it's operation, separate from my mind? This is an ancient question - predating Christianity by centuries - and a contemporary question, in that an entire cottage-industry has harnessed the concept of "spirituality" as it's money machine. The word, spirituality, itself is divisive - causing some to become nauseated upon hearing it and others to regard it as a significant component of their relation to the Truth. I am not engaging that controversy here - I just want to know if my spirit exists! Secondly, then, I think it does, and the simplest anecdote I can offer as evidence is my relation to my two nine year-old children.

I love my two children - that is a fact (sometimes surprising even to me) beyond debate. But, I must admit (a little guiltily, perhaps), there are often times that I don't like them. I'm sure I am in good company - "I'll always love you, but I don't like you much right now," must be a parental anthem! Raising children is difficult - they seem to contain the bulk of the fallen nature of man in terms of selfishness, self-centeredness and a predilection to deceit!! So, how do I hold two seemingly contradictory states in existence (love and dislike)? I think it is the operation of the mind and the spirit. The mind, it seems to me, is a problem solver and passer of judgments. An extreme oversimplification to be sure - but, usable. The spirit, on the other hand, seems to operate beyond (transcendant of?) the solutions and judgments of the mind - thankfully!

I want to make two quick points before I bring this back around to Mother Teresa. First, the emotions, our 'feelings,' are centered in our mind as reactions to the world as we find it (anger, frustration, esteem, pride, contentment, etc). We've conducted some initial assessments, constructed some solutions, arrived at some judgments - however flawed they may be - and we experience some associated feelings. Love, on the other hand, is not a feeling - is not attached to solutions and judgments - and so I attribute it to the spirit. Secondly, there is a relationship between these two realms, so to speak.

The reason I don't take my children out into the woods and leave them after some particularly heinous disobedience on their part, is that I love them. I suspect that spirit trumps the mind - and as a result the physical action follows that my beautiful little children are safely asleep in their beds as I write this - well-fed and well-loved. In effect, I've surrendered to the spirit regardless of how I feel at the time.

Back to Mother Teresa. She lived a full life of self-sacrifice and service to others in some of the most brutal conditions known on the face of the planet, the slums of Calcutta - caring for those, "Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to Me." (Matt. 25:40). Her motivation for this life-long commitment? Was it that she truly believed her salvation was predicated on her works - or was it the operation of Christ on her spirit - though her mind, for whatever reason, remained arid of the feeling of unity with Christ? I think here I must offer a final comment and suggest that faith, the surrender to the Truth, is indestructibly centered in the spirit and, that regardless of feelings - operates to bring about some physical representation of its presence - a witness, if you will.

Some might argue that the selfless life is achievable humanistically - I would argue the opposite, in that humanism, properly understood, would deny the existence of the spirit - hence the existence of faith, abolishing any motivation to continue to surrender to a work that the world cannot comprehend - perhaps much like Mother Teresa of Calcutta experienced.