Response to Rick Phillips on Mother Teresa's Dark
Night
In my "Two
Paradigms" post I described how Protestantism and Catholicism are
distinct paradigms. Criticizing one paradigm from the point of view of the
other paradigm is typically an exercise in question-begging. An example of such
an exercise can be found in Rick Phillips' article titled "Mother
Teresa's Redemption".
Phillips first claims that there are "many
streams of ... Catholic piety". He lists four:
"There is the sacramental indulgence approach,
perhaps most common among the peasant class, whereby pilgrims seek spiritual
leverage by venerating saintly relics (at a price, of course). There is
the monastic good works approach, typified by the monkish Martin Luther (who
said, "If anyone could get into heaven by monkery, I would have been the
one." ) There is the penitential approach, probably most common among
Roman Catholics in the West today, whereby one maintains a relationship with
God (really, the Church) via the mass, confession, and penance. But there
is also the mystical way, pioneered by such luminaries as St. Teresa of Avila,
who was made famous by her ecstatic visions of the Lord. Most Roman Catholics
will have bits and pieces of most of these (Luther tried them all of them prior
to "discovering" the gospel), with one of them as the leading
approach to spirituality."
Then he pigeonholes Mother Teresa into the
"mystical" stream. But from a Catholic point of view, these are not
"many streams"; these are all aspects of one thing: Catholic piety.
Phillips has imposed an artificial division on what in Catholicism is essentially united. Having artificially categorized Mother Teresa's piety, Phillips then
claims that the inner struggle Mother Teresa endured "offers a dire
warning of the perils of this approach to God". Phillips believes that
what Mother Teresa went through internally is a symptom of some bad theology.
He writes:
"Why was her faith so dry and dead ...? One key
answer seems to be that her faith was not rooted in the Word of God, but in
experiential ecstasy.... In this, parallels can be seen between Mother Teresa
and Christians of many stripes -- many of them evangelicals -- whose faith is
driven by spiritual experiences instead of by the truth of God's Word."
Mother Teresa's problem, according to Phillips, was
that she didn't know or trust her Bible. If she had, her privation of spiritual
experience of Christ would not have concerned or troubled her. She was,
according to Phillips, basically the equivalent of a charismatic who seeks God
in spiritual experiences instead of simply standing on the promises of Christ
in Scripture. Phillips says that if he had been her minister, he would have
pointed her to Scripture. He even claims that she thought of her salvation primarily in terms of mystical experiences:
"... Mother Teresa thought of her salvation
primarily in terms of mystical experiences. ... Her idea of salvation was
to participate mystically in deity itself. To have such an
experience was to have Christ. To fail to achieve this mystic height was
to be without Christ. ... Underlining
it all [Mother Teresa's inner darkness] was a lack of belief in the
all-sufficiency of the finished work of Christ."
Such lines could only come out of the Protestant
paradigm with its either/or oversimplifications. If she longed for mystical
experiences of Christ and yet failed to acquire them, it follows for Phillips that she
didn't have enough faith in the all-sufficiency of the finished work of Christ.
Apparently for Phillips, the Beatific Vision is just something accidental to
salvation, if it has anything to do with it all. As long as you know Christ
died for you, you're saved; its all done, so get on with your life and be happy
and stop thinking about experiencing Christ mystically or spiritually. Or at
least wait until after your soul leaves your body to start thinking about that
sort of stuff.
The claim that what Mother Teresa went through internally
was a symptom of some bad theology assumes that what Mother Teresa went through
internally is something contrary to true Christianity. Phillips does not mince
words:
"But as a spiritual example, she is to be
sincerely and compassionately pitied. In saying this, I do not mean to
declare her as damned; such a pronouncement is beyond my authority or
competence. But reading the pieces of her correspondence, I found myself
lamenting that someone so noble as Mother Teresa should be led down such a false
and tortuous path. It simply is not Christianity. Therefore, as a
spiritual guide, her example should be shunned."
Phillips graciously refrains from proclaiming Mother
Teresa to be damned. But how does Phillips show that what Mother Teresa went
through is something contrary to true Christianity? Easy. One verse is
sufficient. He writes:
"Jesus said, "Whoever follows me will not
walk in darkness but will have the light of life" (Jn. 8:12). Simply
put, the spiritual testimony of Mother Teresa is directly contrary to the
depiction offered by Jesus in the Bible."
Case closed. Mother Teresa should be
"pitied" and "her example should be shunned".
But does that verse really mean what Phillips assumes
that it means? Is it talking about the "dark night of the soul", as
we see in St. John of the Cross? Or is it talking about the darkness of
depravity and selfishness? It seems to me that the weight of Phillips' entire
argument rests on these two questions, questions which he does not answer.
For Phillips, the height of Christian life is the
"light-bathed spirituality" of resting on the finished work of Jesus
on the cross. He writes:
"... Paul's light-bathed spirituality rested on
the finished work of Jesus on the cross. The light that shone in his
heart -- but did it shine in Mother Teresa's? -- was this great truth: He died
for me. Therefore, Paul spoke of life, not death for himself ("the
life I live"!), since Christ
had died already for him."
Phillips apparently thinks of salvation as something
entirely forensic. Epistemic awareness of that forensic work equals
"light-bathed spirituality".
If this is not gnosticism, how would gnosticism be different? Phillips
says that salvation is epistmic awareness of a "great truth: He died for me". But for a
Catholic, salvation is Christ Himself, not just epistemic awareness of (and belief in) a truth about what Christ did
for me, no matter how great. Mother Teresa was not ignorant of the Scriptures;
she was not ignorant of what Christ had done on the cross for her. It was precisely
because she knew what Christ had done for her that she longed so deeply for
Christ Himself; her soul yearned and panted for the living God. Her long dark
night was the long night of a soul crying out in thirst for nothing less than
Christ Himself, so much so that anything else was for her like the darkness of
hell itself. It was the sixty-year desert of a lover who, having been once
touched by her Lover, subsequently in His absence experienced everything else
as dry empty darkness, waiting and longing for His return. This kind of darkness
is not evidence of a lack of faith, but rather evidence of having experienced a
veiled glimpse of the Beatific Vision; this is the symptom of only one kind of
love, the kind of love that has once beheld the Perfect Lover, only to have Him
be withdrawn from her. If only I could attain to a small portion of the love
for Christ that Mother Teresa had.
Phillips writes:
Most tragic to me was the analogy drawn by one of
Mother Teresa's apologists. He writes, "Let's say you're married and
you fall in love and you believe with all your heart that marriage is a
sacrament. And your wife, God forbid, gets a stroke and she's
comatose. And you will never experience her love again. It's like
loving and caring for a person for 50 years and once in a while you complain to
your spiritual director, but you know on the deepest level that she loves you
even though she's silent and that what you're doing makes sense. Mother
Teresa knew that what she was doing made sense." What is so horrific
about this analogy is that the comatose spouse is none other than Jesus
Christ. ... She is the selfless savior; Christ is the silent, impotent
lover.
Phillips does not say exactly what is so
"tragic" and "horrific" about this analogy. Either Phillips
considers a healthy spousal relationship to consist in reading letters that his
spouse wrote to him many years ago, or Jesus Himself comes to Phillips' house
daily and talks with him in person. In the former case, Phillips does not know
what true spousal love is like; in the latter case, Phillips's relationship
with Christ is more than merely trusting in the finished work of Christ. Either
way, his criticisms of Mother Teresa's spirituality collapse. In the former
case she had something at one point that he has never experienced and never understood.
In the latter case, he himself has something daily that he is saying Mother
Teresa should have been content not to have.