I want to separate the flow of this series of postings about the parish pilgrimage to write briefly about Mother Teresa. Yesterday was her 100th birthday. This good, determined, holy, and caring person was one of the best examples of the love of Christ that most of us have ever encountered in our everyday lives. She saw Christ in the eyes of the poor. She served the poorest of the poor. Her life was filled with such intensity and love that she often felt empty in the face of God's love - and even considered herself unworthy. In looking at the impact of her life, we know that she was indeed worthy of being a saint - worthy of being imitated - and worthy of being remembered for everything that we brought to our world.
There were some who were less than thrilled with Mother Teresa because they felt she did not address the social structures of her society that caused such horrific conditions for the poor. I have a simple response to those people (who were more than just a few): the day that you can accomplish what she accomplished, come and tell me about social structures.
I met her once at a meeting. I shook her hand. She bowed and kissed my hand. Clearly, it should have been the other way around. As I am one with Christ most intensely in receiving the Eucharist, the memory of that encounter keeps me one with Christ whenever I recall it.
Recently, a Catholic commentator created am imbroglio because the Empire State Building would not have special colored lights in honor of Mother Teresa's birthday. He even organized a small protest. I tend to be somewhat skeptical of those kinds of protests. If you want to honor this kind soul, then go feed the poor. She would be the last person in the world to want a fuss made about the color of lights honoring her birthday at the Empire State Building. It was another false issue much like the made-up issue of taking Christ out of Christmas. Some folks believe that, by repeating something, it becomes true. Sadly, people sometimes do believe that which is repeated over and over again. (But I digress!)
You honor holy people by doing holy things, by recognizing Christ in the faces of the poor.
On our parish pilgrimage, we visited Ortisei, Italy, the place where all of the statues, crucifix, and woodcarvings were made. I will have more to write about this. As our parishioners walked into their studio in Ortisei, this statue is what greeted us - a holy person made by inspired woodcarvers: