By Pastor Bruce
In 2007, the personal letters of Mother Teresa to the priest
that was her spiritual confidant were published ten years after her death. She
had received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 and was admired the world over for
her “wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor” (the fourth vow of
the order she founded). As people read these letters, they were surprised to
see that inwardly she often experienced the absence of God more than his
presence. She wrote, “The silence and the emptiness are so great. I look and do
not see, listen and do not hear, the tongue moves in prayer, but I do not
speak…” The pain of feeling this absence from God and feeling God’s distance
from her only caused her to feel more deeply the acute pain of the hunger,
disease, and misery of those she served.
People assumed that anyone who had given themselves so
thoroughly to the sick, the dying, beggars and street children would experience
the graces of God’s presence in abundance and were shocked to read of God’s
silence in her life. Some called her a fraud.
But anyone familiar with the history of spirituality will
know that going back to the Hebrew Psalms, the absence of God is often felt
most keenly by the saints. In Psalm 13, David wrote:
How long, Lord? Will you forget
me forever?
How long will
you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my
thoughts
and day after
day have sorrow in my heart?
After teaching at Yale and Harvard, Henri Nouwen left the
academic world to join the L’Arche Community in Toronto where he took on the
care of Adam, a profoundly disabled adult who required assistance each hour of
the day. He testified that, "It is I, not Adam, who gets the main benefit
from our friendship." Ironically, this sacrificial choice coincided with a
period of his life when he felt the absence of God more than ever before. And
so his experience was not much different than that of Mother Teresa.
Nouwen offers us the wisdom gleaned from those lean years:
Is God present or is he absent?
Maybe we can say that in the center of our sadness over his absence we can find
the first signs of his presence. And that in the middle of our longings for God
we discover the footprints of the one who has created those longings. It is in
this faithful waiting for the loved one that we learn how much he has filled
our lives already. Just as a mother’s love for her son can grow while she waits
to be reunited with him, so also our intimate friendship with God can become
deeper while we wait expectantly for his resurrection.
And this:
God is greater than my senses,
greater than my thoughts, greater than my heart. I do believe that he touches
me in places that are unknown even to myself. I seldom can point directly to
these places; but when I feel his inner pull to return again to that hidden
hour of prayer, I realize that something is happening that is so deep that it
becomes like the riverbed through which the waters can safely flow and find
their way to the open sea.
Have you felt the absence of God more than his presence?
Have these feelings come on the occasions that you anticipated you would
receive the graces of his presence most abundantly? Has this only intensified
your yearning for God as the writer of Psalm 42 expressed it?
As the deer pants for
streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
so my soul pants for you, my God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
Has it aroused in your heart only a deeper love for your
Lord? Can you relate to these words by Richard Rolle?
I ask you, Lord Jesus,
to develop in me, your lover,
an immeasurable urge towards you,
an affection that is unbounded,
fervor that throws discretion to
the winds!
The more worthwhile our love for
you,
all the more pressing does it
become.
Reason cannot hold it in check,
fear does not make it tremble,
wise judgment does not temper it.
Will you join Peter Marshall in this prayer?
Our Father, sometimes you seem so
far away, as if you are a God in hiding, as if you are determined to elude all
who seek you. Yet we know that you are far more willing to be found than we are
willing to seek you. And you have promised, “You will seek me and find me when
you seek me with all your heart.” And have you not assured us that you are with
us always?
Help us now to be as aware of
your nearness as we are of the physical realities of everyday life. Help us to
recognize your voice with as much assurance as we recognize the sounds of the
world around us. We would find you now in the privacy of our own hearts, in the
quiet of this moment. We would know, our Father, that you are near us and
beside us, that you love us, that you are interested in all we do and that you
are concerned about all of our affairs.
May we become more aware of your
companionship, of him who walks beside us. At times when we feel forsaken, may
we know the presence of the Holy Spirit who brings comfort to all our hearts.
May we be convinced that even before we reach up to you, you are already
reaching down to us.
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