Faith is Hard

This week the second reading begins with a line from the Letter to the Hebrews that echo down through the centuries. It is a line meant for all of us, presidents and paupers, authorities and nobodies, kings and servants.  

Although the authorship of the Letter to the Hebrews is unknown the words, and message are profound. It is one of the most powerful and hope-filled thoughts shared in the letter to the Hebrews. It is written, “Brothers and sisters: Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. “

Our faith is a very personal part of our life. Whether like our bishops and priests, we speak publicly about faith all the time, or we sit in the back pew of the church, faith is so deeply personal that it is often hard to put into words. I have had the pleasure of being in faith-sharing groups often in my life. It is good to hear how others think about the scriptures and how they impact their lives. But the words we use, however eloquent, cannot capture the depth of faith and our faith journey. That journey is so intrinsically planted in our souls that words cannot describe it.

So, I won’t delude myself here and think I can share some profound wisdom that will explain the mystery of faith in your life. Perhaps the best I can do is reassure you on your journey. While your journey is yours alone and unlike anyone else, we all have shared experiences as we journey in faith to the God we love.

In 1977 I had the privilege of picking up Mother Theresa from Laguardia Airport and driving her to Iona College in New Rochelle. She was going to be the speaker at the graduation that was scheduled for the next day. It was an absolute honor. So down I went early in my ugly brown Chevy Nova to pick up Mother Theresa. She arrived and I, of course, knew her immediately. She had no luggage, just a small satchel. I was not nearly as nervous or awed as I should have been. After all, this was Mother Theresa! But I was 20, and who knew she would be a saint. On the trip to the college, we did not have a stimulating conversation. In fact, she said nearly nothing at all. When we arrived and I brought her to the guest house, there were others to meet her, and my task was done. As you probably know, Mother Theresa was a tiny, frail woman. When she got out of my car and thanked me for the ride, she said, “You are a blessed woman, be faithful.” Those are words I will treasure in my heart. After learning about her faith journey, they mean even more.

Mother Theresa died in 1999 and was canonized a saint in 2016. I tell you this story because we never know the road another is on in their faith journey. After her death and her journals were found, we only began to see the faith road she had traveled. In one journal, Mother Theresa wrote, “

“in my heart, there is no faith—no love—no trust—there is so much pain—the pain of longing, the pain of not being wanted. I want God with all the powers of my soul—and yet there between us—there is a terrible separation.”

No one would ever have known the suffering of her faith journey. Yet, her words bring tears to my eyes because her words, at times, have been my words. My faith has also experienced moments of intimacy with God that have sustained me.

The spiritual path we walk is unique to each of us. But we all know loss and separation and feeling God is anywhere but beside us. Yet, we also know moments when we have a glimpse of the love of God.  

Be kind, be gentle with one another, and don’t judge. We don’t walk another’s journey. But with awe, we respect it because the ground we each walk, whether filled with light or darkness, is holy ground. It is walked with God.

We cannot change one another’s path, but we can reach out a hand in love, speak words of kindness, and share another’s burden for a while. Reflecting the God within us may provide a respite, a small beacon of light when another experiences doubt and pain.  May we respect and love one another.

In God’s Unending Love,

Gwen