Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
As time goes by, we seem to wonder, more deeply, about life, our fallibility, and our mortality. This occurs more so now because we feel vulnerable.
Some of us do go through questions about our understanding of our connection to God. Some of us consider prayers as just a collection of words that hold no significance to our lives today. We repeat them because we have done so for so long.
A while ago I was amused at the commotion made about the revelation that Mother Teresa, through her writings, expressed serious doubts about her faith and relationship with God. Darkness seemed to be everywhere, no matter what efforts were made to bring light.
Crisis of faith: Sometimes in our zeal to find solutions to problems, we become frustrated because the solutions seem remote. I would suggest that our expectations are unrealistic.
Crisis of faith: There are certain givens. Poverty will always exist. Our job is not to eliminate but to relieve.
Crisis of faith: Illness is part of the journey of life, and our wishes for complete health may not be within the realm of possibility. Therefore, our responsibility lies in trying to cope.
Crisis of faith: Evil is part of the equation that relates to existence and coexistence; therefore, our hope is not to eradicate evil, but place our emphasis in trying to minimize it so that life can have a decent quality.
Mother Teresa was no exception when she decided to question our very being and the ability to make a difference. Those who work in the vineyard of care and concern will always go through doubts, because there is so much despair and gloom. It is not surprising that she felt the pangs of doubt.
Perhaps she was overwhelmed, and instead of remembering all the good she accomplished, she thought of all that is yet to be done. Perhaps she forgot to realize that her function was not to cure but to console—not eliminate the misery but to comfort those who are experiencing this nightmare. Perhaps in an instant she lost sight of the true meaning of faith: The ability to transfer the pain, to express sorrow and regret, to afford each one of us the opportunity to pray, for that is the essence of the comfort that God gives us in times of turbulence.
We should think. We should question. We can even doubt. If answers were simple, we would still be prancing around in the Garden of Eden without a care in the world. But God did not create us to wander aimlessly, but rather with a purpose that includes rituals and connections and even crises of faith. At this time in our lives, we should understand that we have a lot to be grateful for.
Our prayers thank God for all sorts of things—for breath, for sight, for smell, for touch—not that we can create miracles by beseeching God to undo that which is done (the loss of any of these), but rather to give us the insight into finding cures and learning to cope.
And as Mother Teresa was noted to say, we may not always hear the answer, but that doesn’t relieve us of the obligation to continue to dialogue or search for the answer or embark on that journey—the journey that will increase our faith, not diminish it.