Ann Rennie Reflects

Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.  Mother Teresa

When I was confirmed at OLGC in the late 1960s, there was the usual classroom excitement as to what name we were going to choose as our Confirmation name. Lessons were spent checking names and histories with the Sisters gently suggesting that we not go for anything too exotic. Teresa/Thérèse, Bernadette and Mary were the usual suspects. Wanting to be different, I chose Barbara, my mother’s name. This was because I loved my mother but also because Saint Barbara had been martyred for her Christian faith. 

Today, the choosing is much more inclusive and wide-ranging. If I were to do it again, I’d choose something like Finbar or Flavia, the latter after the dear nun who worked so hard in the junior school and who in the winters of the past dispensed cups of steaming tomato soup for 5c a cup into the chill-blained hands of small girls queueing at the shelter shed.

However, today, I am going to write about a triumvirate of saints whose names begin with T – Saint Teresa of Avila, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux and Saint Teresa of Kolkata, better known as Mother Teresa. These three hallowed women have had a profound impact on the Church and in the devotional practice of those in the pews. Their courage, example and faith models for us the ways we can go about our lives.

Teresa of Ávila was a Carmelite nun, mystic and reformer of the Carmelite order. She emphasised deep prayer, inner stillness and union with God, becoming one of the most influential figures of Christian mysticism. Canonised in 1622 and later declared a Doctor of the Church. She wrote: “Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you, all things are passing away: God never changes.” Some references to her life show that she could be intense, difficult and highly imaginative and that her rapturous trances were part of her falling in love with God. 

The most famous statue of Saint Teresa is Bernini’s “Ecstasy of Saint Teresa”. This sculpture, completed in 1652, is located in the Cornaro Chapel of Santa Maria della Vittoria in Rome. It depicts Saint Teresa experiencing a mystical vision where an angel pierces her heart with an arrow, evoking a mix of pain and spiritual rapture. 

Our daily mysticism may be of a less rapturous kind but the blessing we have is that God never changes, loves us conditionally, has no favourites and is waiting for our union in heaven.

My grandmother had a great devotion to the Little Flower, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux. Her piety of simplicity struck a chord with Catholics worldwide. Her example of doing little things well is much more achievable than the grand gesture or acclaimed philanthropic magnanimity. Her example was one of restraint and kindness. For example, there were a couple of older crotchety sisters she did not like especially, so she made a special effort to be friendly to them. This was her Little Way, a way of living where small acts of grace and mercy were daily and frequent, a habit of goodness. 

Sometimes, we too, need to make the effort to smile, grin and bear it, dispensing with our first impression or overcoming bias or prejudice. Saint Thérèse often fell asleep during prayer, as she was not a well woman and died of tuberculosis at the young age of 24. Her parents, Louis and Zelie Martin, were canonised in 2015, the only married couple thus far in the history of the Church. This is a reminder that parental modelling can be profoundly formative in all manner of things, especially faith. 

Mother Teresa is widely recognised globally for her saintly ways and charitable works for the poor in India. She wrote: By blood, I am Albanian. By citizenship, an Indian. By faith, I am a Catholic nun. As to my calling, I belong to the world. As to my heart, I belong entirely to the Heart of Jesus. She founded the Missionaries of Charity to work with the poorest of the poor, the lame, the destitute, the unloved. She too believed in doing small faithful things with great love. And she certainly belonged to the world in a way that overcame artificial divisions. Her message was universally received and understood.

I was in India last year. I loved the colour and crush, the women in their saris, a hurried sit-down on the Diana seat at the Taj Mahal, seeing festival bathing in the Ganges, but its poverty was unavoidable. I saw men sleeping on bags of cement with nothing but the clothes on their back, children carrying infants begging at busy intersections, the maimed lying on the ground asking for handouts as we visited Hindu temples. It was heartbreaking. Mother Teresa gave back dignity to the souls on the street, tending to their needs, washing them, touching them with love when they were outcast or seen as Dalit by their own society. Her small acts of mercy were miracles to those who had known nothing but oppression and marginalisation.

I arrived home with a renewed sense of gratitude for my life in Melbourne. 

Galatians 6:10, So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.

These days our understanding of charity is not simply for those we know, but for those we may never know. The household of faith is global. Every day we have opportunities to be kind, to do good things, to pray, to live out the uniqueness of our lives with dignity and grace and good cheer. Even a kind word is uplifting. 

Most of what we will do will be on a small scale but that does not diminish its value or worth to the recipient. I know how heartened I have been when someone has spoken encouragingly to me or has taken the time to listen and understand my circumstances. 

The saints above all had different ways of showing their love for God and for others. We are the same. Let us find those daily opportunities to do good.

By Ann Rennie