About twenty years ago a young woman named Jeannie came into my office at Christ Church, Charlotte.
She was kind of shy, and as she came in she obviously was holding something behind her back.
She started the conversation by saying, “now if you don’t want this, I’ll understand.”
Then she held up what she had behind her back…a large, absolutely stunning portrait of Mother Teresa of Calcutta.
She had painted it as a student, and had used a picture of Mother Teresa that had been on Time magazine.
Needless to say, I was thrilled with this gift, which, of course I wanted.
For many years it hung in our den and when we were preparing to move out here about this time last year, our son asked if he could have it.
I was quite amazed last week to see on the cover of the September 3rd issue of Time magazine, the same identical picture of Mother Teresa.
But, quite disturbing was the title of the article: “The Secret Life of Mother Teresa: Newly published letters reveal a beloved icon’s 50 year crisis of faith.”
Crisis of faith? Surely not.
But, in her private letters we read:
Jesus has a very special love for you. But as for me - the silence and the emptiness is so great - that I look and do not see - listen and do not hear. Where is my faith - even deep down right in here there is nothing, but emptiness and darkness.
That’s rather astonishing isn’t it.
Quite honestly, my brothers and sisters, those are words that I could have easily written many times in my life, and, perhaps, so could have you.
But, Mother Teresa. What is going on?
And then, last week, I went to the Taize website and there was a sermon by Brother Alois, the new prior of Taize, preached at the 2 year anniversary of Brother Roger’s death.
Brother Alois stated that “we might be surprised to know that Brother Roger suffered anxiety, and spent a lot of his life anxious about many things.
Brother Roger of Taize…anxious…overcome by anxiety.
My brothers and sisters in Christ, that sounds more like my life, and perhaps even yours.
So, what is going on?
In today’s Gospel Jesus tells us “Whoever does bear his own cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple.
For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether there is enough to complete it.”
Then Jesus puts in the final stinger: “So, therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”
So, what does this all mean?
In baptism we are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.
That is our call to be followers and disciples of Jesus.
It means, quite simply, that our lives are in his hands, and that he will lead on a pilgrimage of life into places that we never dreamed possible.
We are called to journey with Christ, and with each other, and the journey is one of light, but also one of darkness.
Let us not think that being in partnership with Christ on the road is a piece of cake.
Neither is Jesus a celestial errand boy who waits on us hand and foot and instantly answers all of our prayers.
Just have a look at the life of Abraham, Moses, Jacob, Isaiah, Mary or, even Jesus himself.
After all, Jesus, in the midst of the darkness of Good Friday, did say “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me.”
My brothers and sisters in Christ, I find the words of Brother Roger, Mother Teresa, Jesus, and a myriad of saints throughout the ages to be of great comfort.
For, when our own way seems to be dark, when it seems to be as St. John of the Cross once wrote, “The Dark Night of the Soul” we are in good company.
For, it is in those dark places, those moments, when we can, if we will open the eyes of our hearts and listen with the ears of our souls, we can see the glimmer of the light of God’s love that awaits us.
Look, for example, at the life of the great prophet Elijah.
For heaven’s sake, he had just called down fire from heaven, he had just outrun the chariots of King Ahab.
And here he is, sitting under a broom tree, pouting, and saying: “It is enough: now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.”
Elijah the great prophets saying that?
Sounds like something I might say, or perhaps even you.
So, what is going on?
God sends Elijah to Mt. Sinai, tells him to stand there, and suddenly there is a great wind, strong enough to break the rocks, then there is an earthquake, then there is a fire.
Then, there is a still small voice….and in that silence was the voice of God.
God says: “What are you doing here Elijah?”
Elijah then begins to spout off all he has done for God, and that he is the only one doing what God wants.
God tells him to get on with his calling as a prophet, and then says, “O by the way, you aren’t the only one…there are seven thousand others out there just like you.”
How easy it is for us to look at our surroundings, to look at what is and what isn’t going on, and to feel closed in by darkness.
It is in those times that we need to stop, to look, to listen, and to know that in the midst of it all, there is a Christ who loves us, a Christ who gave his life for us, a Christ who also had darkness in his life, and a Christ who will lead us into the light.
Jesus said, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the close of the age.”
Yes, He is with us.
He was with Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who, in the midst of her dark moments carried 45,000 people off the streets.
He was with Brother Roger of Taize, who, in the midst of his anxiety, brought the love of God to countless thousands of young people all over the world.
And, he is with us right here, right now.
When the going get tough we need to stop, to look, and to listen.
And, like the thief on the cross, we need to simply say, Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.
And, he will respond to us: Today you will be with me in paradise.
And that, my brothers and sisters, is precisely where we are right here right now….with Christ…with each other….in the incredible paradise of Christ that brings life, faith, hope, healing, and peace into the darkness of this world.
For, after all, Jesus carried his cross and the end result was resurrection.
As it was for him….so it is for us. Amen