Tyndale Chapel Podcast

Welcome everyone, and welcome to Abide.

This is our final Abide of the semester. I have so enjoyed spending time with each one of these Saints, and so this is our twelfth Saint, or our twelfth friend of Jesus, that we've been able to learn from and walk with. And today, we get to spend time with Mother Teresa.

But before we do that, I'd love to just remind us of where we started when we began this adventure with the Saints, and we asked this question: Who is a Saint? And this quote comes from our book that we’ve been in together, ‘Stories of the Saints,’ by Kerry Wallace.

And she writes, “Saints aren't born better or braver than the rest of us. Saints aren't people who are always good and never afraid. They're people who believe there must be more to life than just what we can see. This world may be hard and unfair. But Saints believe in a God who is bigger than the world, whose law is love, and whose justice is mercy.”

And so, that's my prayer for us all in this time, is that as we learn from these Saints, and as we too long to become Saint-like, that we would be investing more and more in the kingdom of God. In the things that are unseen and yet never pass away. A life that we give away, rather than selfishly keep.

And so, that is our intention today, as we go into our private spaces, like Matthew 6:6 reminds us to, “Go into your room and close the door and meet with God in secret. And there He will reward you.” And He rewards us with His presence.

And so, find your inner room, in your car, or on your walk, lying down, sitting at your desk.

And as we enter this space, I'm just reminded of all of the Saints that have sat in this space with us over this semester. I just want to give them our attention and our remembrance for this moment.

We sat with Saint Augustine, where he opened up his own words of his writings of ‘The Confessions,’ and reminded us of that great truth that “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You, God.”

And then we met Saint Benedict, and learned about his rule, and how he reminds us to listen, listen to you, God, and to allow our work life and our prayer life to be integrated.

We got to spend time with Saint Hildegard, where her creativity for music was then put to Scripture, and just lifted all of our hearts in her beautiful way.

And then we got to meet with Saint Francis. Remember his interaction with the leper, and how it changed him. And his compassion, his desire to console others over being consoled himself.

And then Saint Clare, who was taught by Francis. We remember that she took her marital vows to marry God, and got in that wedding dress. And the rest is history, in giving her life over to God.

And then we met Julian of Norwich, who gave us this beautiful phrase that “All is well, and all manner of things shall be well.” She gave us this perspective.

And then we got to walk with Saint Catherine of Siena, who taught us about intimacy with God, even as a very young girl. If you remember, she talked about walking up each step and saying a prayer, and how everyone in the house got frustrated with her. But yet, each step she wanted to be connecting with God.

And then we spent time with Saint Ignatius of Loyola. He taught us about reading the Scriptures and using all of our senses to really imagine ourselves in the Scripture. And really encounter Jesus for ourselves.

We met Saint Teresa of Avila, who described our souls as an interior castle that we get to continue to discover, and find that God lives in the centre.

We spent time with Saint John of the Cross, who talked about the dark night of the soul. And that God can be found in our darkest hours.

And we met the beautiful Saint Teresa of Lisieux, who taught us the little way. Small acts with great love.

And so, today, as we invite Mother Teresa into this group, she took her name actually from Teresa of Lisieux. She was originally given the name Agnes, but when she went into the devout life, she chose the name Teresa because she was so drawn to the little way.

And, I feel probably the most physically close with Mother Teresa. As, when I was in university, I travelled to India to study world religions. And I was able to visit one of her orphanages and serve there for a day, and just interact with the sisters there, and the children there, and the spaces that she describes. And so, this last Saint is special to me because I walked in the roads that she walked in.

And so, as our spaces, whether in our rooms or in our cars, are filled with these wonderful souls, we too are in this room. And we, too, have these beautiful souls given to us by God.

And so, we're just going to start to quiet our bodies and minds in this space. And if I had to think of, you know, three words to describe Mother Teresa, I would think of these words. I would think of compassion, and I would think of acceptance, and love.

And so, as we practice our inhales and exhales, we're going to inhale those words together. So, just start to slow down your thoughts. Quieting the muscles of your face, quieting down through the centre body, and down through your legs.

And let's just begin with our inhale. We'll inhale compassion.

And we'll exhale out compassion.

We'll inhale acceptance.

And we'll exhale out acceptance.

And lastly, we'll inhale love.

And exhale out love.

Just in this space, I'm wondering if anything in your heart, mind, life, and situations today just need a compassionate presence. Need an accepting, listening ear. So, just spend a moment allowing the presence of Jesus, in His compassion and in His loving kindness, to just gently warm any of those spaces in you that might need His love, His tenderness.

Wonderful.

So, we're going to continue into our time with the story of Teresa. And she was born in 1910 and lived until 1997. So, definitely more of a modern-day Saint. Born in Albania, but spent most of her life in India. Here's her story.

“One day, on a train to a spiritual retreat, Teresa heard a voice speak inside her heart. ‘I'm looking for people who will radiate my love on souls,’ the voice said. ‘Come be my light. I can't go alone.’ Teresa was already a nun, and she had been born in Albania and then joined the Sisters of Loreto in Ireland. They sent her to Calcutta in India, where she served as a principal of a school for girls for twenty years. She was happy there and never had any plans to leave. But when Teresa heard the voice speak in her heart, she also felt God's pain over the way poor people were treated. And she felt how much God wanted poor people to love Him, and how much He wanted them to know His love.

For two years, Teresa thought and prayed about how to answer that call. And then, when she was thirty-eight years old, she walked out of her convent and into the streets of
Calcutta. When the door closed behind her, she had nothing to her name but the few things she carried on her back and permission to start a new order for the poor. And the poor were all around her, living in the crowded neighbourhoods, without enough food, clean water, or medicine. That first day, she had no idea what to do, so she simply helped anyone she saw. She met some children who were covered with crusty sores and gently washed them. She found an old man lying sick on the side of the road and cared for him. She found a starving woman dying of tuberculosis and did everything she could think of to ease her pain. Because Teresa had no money, she had to beg for her own food and for her supplies to help the people she met. Looking for a home for herself, she walked and walked until her arms and legs ached. But every morning, no matter where she had slept the night before, she received Holy Communion and prayed and then went back out. At the convent, she had been safe, and happy, and full of faith. But in the streets, she was often lonely and full of doubt. And some days, she wondered if God even loved her anymore. ‘Just think,’ the devil would whisper to her, ‘If you only say the word, everything you had back in the convent can be yours again.’ But Teresa refused to listen. ‘God,' she prayed, 'I want to stay here. I want to do whatever you say.’

Teresa found an abandoned temple and turned it into a home for people who were dying, free for everyone who was poor. She wanted anyone who hadn't been cared for in life to know that they were loved at the moment of their death. Some of the students from her old school joined her, and together, they started to care for lepers in Calcutta. And then they began to care for lepers all over India and in other countries as well, Venezuela, Italy, Tanzania.

But Teresa had a secret. As her order grew, and as her face became famous all over the world, she only longed for one thing: To feel the love of God. But since she started working with the poor, she had almost never felt it. ‘All this time,’ she said, ‘I was hiding a broken heart.’ But this was also kind of a gift. Teresa wasn't a stranger to loneliness and sorrow. She knew what it was like to feel abandoned and long for love. So, she knew how the people she served felt. Because of her broken heart, she didn't look down on them from above. She worked at their side like a sister or a brother.

Despite everything, Teresa never gave up. She started new orders so that men could join in caring for the poor. And an order that allowed people from all walks of life and any faith to join in the work. And those orders started orphanages and schools all over the world and cared for anyone who needed help. People with AIDS, refugees, old people, people struggling to live through epidemics of disease and famine, and people who lived with homelessness, blindness, disability, and addiction. When Teresa died, people all over the world mourned. But all over the world, her work still goes on.”

Take a moment just to be in the presence of this beautiful soul.

The story of Teresa is such a special one. And I hope to just touch on a few parts of her life. And, you know, it's always said that whatever friends you hang out with, you sort of start to become like them. And our prayer is that just hanging out with Teresa, we would, our eyes would, just be open to things. And it might shape us into the people that we're meant to be. And yet, learn, learn from people who have gone before us.

We read in our story that, "One day, on a train to a spiritual retreat, Teresa heard a voice speak inside her heart. ‘I'm looking for people who will radiate my love on souls,’ the voice said. ‘Come, be my light. I can't go alone.’"

So, this calling that came to Teresa was later in her life. She grew up in a home with both parents devout, and both parents being very loving, and accepting, and welcoming to the poor. So, she had such wonderful examples of that. And was educated and moved into a life as a teacher. And participated in that for twenty years. But, as she went on retreat, there was this call within the call, as it's written about. That she was called to love and serve God, and to be in India to do that. And then, there was this deeper or a different path within the call.

And so, I'm wondering for each one of us, many of us have experienced, you could call it, a call. Or we're drawn to a certain way to serve, or love, or to grow. And that call blossoms and develops. But I'd invite us, now, to learn from Teresa, knowing that oftentimes there's a call within a call. That things shift, or God speaks again, and reinforces new truths. Or new things that He would like you to be a part of for Him.

And so, I'd just like us to take this time to just open up our callings to God, our paths to God, to create space and openness for the work that God has for us. To develop and to shape into however He desires.

The book, “My Life with the Saints,” by James Martin, he has some words about this call within the call.

“Teresa writes, ‘To leave Loreto,’ which was the school she worked at in India, ‘was the most difficult thing I had ever done. It was much more difficult than to leave my family and country and enter into religious life. Loretto, my spiritual training, my work there, meant everything to me.”

And so, the call that we have on our life often has great sacrifice, often takes a twist or a turn, and takes great faith.

We read on in the story of Teresa, “That first day, she had no idea what to do, so she simply helped anyone she saw. She met some children who were covered with crusty sores and gently washed them. She found an old man lying sick on the side of the road and cared for him. And she found a starving woman dying of tuberculosis and did everything she could to ease her pain.”

You know, many of us have tasks in our day, and work to do, and yet we are called to be planted, and rooted, and grounded in our daily lives. And to have our eyes open to those that are in need.

And Teresa writes, “I didn't know what to do as I left and started my new calling of looking for those in need.”

But I'm wondering if God could just open our eyes to our personal lives, where we might be able to be a listening ear or a compassionate presence with someone who is hurting. The widow, the sick one, the one in the hospital, a friend struggling. Or you might even think, how can I connect with the poor? And I know for myself, I'm not always so connected with the poor, but I've, since reading about Teresa again, I've started to just have cash available in my purse, so whenever I see anyone that is asking for money, that I'd have money to give. And some people say, I don't want to give money because they'll end up using it for something that's not good for them. And I heard it once, said by Anne Lamont, that when Jesus healed people and gave them their sight, He didn't say, what are you going to use your eyes for? You know, He healed, He gave sight, He gave life back. And He didn't say, what are you going to use it for? He just gave it. This generous, generous way of Jesus.

And so, just ponder with God now, and with Mother Teresa's example, of how you can be generous in your life? Whether it's through your time, your finances, your listening, your presence, to notice those in need.

We read later in our story, “Teresa had a secret. And as her order grew, and as her face became famous all over the world, she only longed for one thing, and that was to feel the love of God. But since she started working with the poor, she had almost never felt it. All this time, she said, ‘I was hiding a broken heart.’ But this was also kind of a gift. Teresa wasn't a stranger to loneliness and sorrow. She knew what it was like to feel abandoned and long for love. So, she knew how the people she served felt. And because of her broken heart, she didn't look down on them from above. She worked at their side like a sister or a brother.”

So fascinating that Teresa has this secret. That with her bountiful love and generosity to all those in need, she longed to feel the love of God for herself. And with that longing, she was able to take that longing and know that the world around her was longing, too.
As we ponder this for ourselves, I'm wondering if we can receive our own weaknesses, receive our own longings, receive our own vulnerabilities, and trust that they're actually a gift. So that we can be side by side with those around us. That we could treat others like a brother or a sister, knowing that we all have a weakness, we all have a need. It puts us at a great posture to serve.

Imagine if we received our weaknesses and vulnerabilities as a gift.

Mother Teresa doesn't have a lot of written work because she was so full of generous giving to the people around her. But a few of her quotes I appreciate. Here they are.

“Today, it is very fashionable to talk about the poor. Unfortunately, it is very unfashionable to talk with them.”

“In the developed countries, there is a poverty of intimacy, a poverty of spirit, of loneliness, of lack of love. There is no greater sickness in the world than that one.”

And lastly, "God does not demand that I be successful. God demands that I be faithful.”

So, as we close this time of prayer, sitting with this beautiful Saint, and with Jesus, and with one another, just grateful to learn, and listen, and open up ourselves to these lives and to these readings. And we trust ourselves to God and His work in us. Teresa has this quote that I'll use as our prayer to close us, if I can find it here. This will be our closing prayer.

“You can do something I can't do. I can do something you can't do. Together, let us do something beautiful for God."

Go in peace, my friends.