Intunericul Dumnezeirii
Este titlul primului capitol al Teologiei Mistice a Bisericii de Rasarit, a lui Vladimir Lossky, unul din marii teologi orotodocsi ai Secolului XX. Este abordarea catafatica, proprie religiilor rasaritene - Dumnezeu este dincolo de posibilitatile noastre de cunoastere, ceea ce stim despre El este ceea ce El vrea sa ne spuna, prin Energiile Necreate. Epifania este la initiativa Lui, initiativa noastra se poate lovi de intuneric.
Dumnezeu este mort, fraza lui Nietzsche ar trebui inteleasa mult mai nuantat: noi credem intr-o imagine a lui Dumnezeu, care este rodul culturii, iar Nietzsche se referea poate la moartea unei culturi, deci a unei imagini a lui Dumnezeu.
Afirmatia lui Nietzsche este reluata de catre Paul Tillich, un alt mare teolog al secolului XX, de data aceasta protestant. Dumnezeu, spune el, nu este Dumnezeul din capatul scarii, noi tot agitam imagini ale lui Dumnezeu, dumnezei nationali, dumnezei asa cum ne place sa ii vedem, dumnezei ai traditiilor, dumnezei cu care ne putem targui si intelege - de fapt sunt proiectii ale lui Dumnezeu, proiectii produse de noi. Cititi The Shaking of Foundations, a aparut de curand si in romaneste.
Toate acestea sunt usor de mestecat in teorie. Insa in viata noastra avem cateodata nevoie de Dumnezeu si gasim intuneric. Voi relua aici episodul evanghelic: Iisus pe Cruce, parasit de toti, parasit si de Dumnezeu - si teribilele cuvinte ale Psalmistului, Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani! Dumnezeul meu, Dumnezeul meu, pentru ce m-ai parasit!
Psalm si Evanghelie. Fac insa parte din noi. Avem cateodata nevoie de Dumnezeu si gasim intuneric. Si ne luptam, sa ne pastram credinta, ne luptam greu, suntem infricosati, din ce in ce mai infricosati. Sfanta Tereza a Pruncului Isus, micuta floare, aflata pe patul de suferinta inaintea mortii si ingrozita ca dupa moarte nu mai exista nimic.
Marii sfinti si marii atei. Marii sfinti: cei incercati de indoiala, cei care se lupta cu ateismul din ei insisi. Cateodata biruind, cateodata biruiti. Maritain spunea ca adevaratul ateu este un mistic dezamagit.
Aflam acum despre Maica Tereza de Calcutta ca a fost incercata toata viata ei de acelasi intuneric teribil. A incercat sa isi rezolve aceasta tensiune ingrozitoare prin identificarea cu cei mai saraci, care nu pot avea nici o speranta. Dar a fost incercata mai departe. De aceea este o sfanta atat de mare.
Iata copia unui articol aparut in NY Times, scris de Parintele Iezuit James Martin:
August 29, 2007
Op-Ed Contributor
A Saint's Dark Night
By JAMES MARTIN
THE stunning revelations contained in a new book, which show that Mother Teresa doubted God's existence, will delight her detractors and confuse her admirers. Or is it the other way around?
The private journals and letters of the woman now known as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta will be released next month as "Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light," and some excerpts have been published in Time magazine. The pious title of the book, however, is misleading. Most of its pages reveal not the serene meditations of a Catholic sister confident in her belief, but the agonized words of a person confronting a terrifying period of darkness that lasted for decades.
"In my soul I feel just that terrible pain of loss," she wrote in 1959, "of God not wanting me — of God not being God — of God not existing." According to the book, this inner turmoil, known by only a handful of her closest colleagues, lasted until her death in 1997.
Gleeful detractors may point to this as yet another example of the hypocrisy of organized religion. The woman widely known in her lifetime as a "living saint" apparently didn't even believe in God.
It was not always so. In 1946, Mother Teresa, then 36, was hard at work in a girls school in Calcutta when she fell ill. On a train ride en route to some rest in Darjeeling, she had heard what she would later call a "voice" asking her to work with the poorest of the poor, and experienced a profound sense of God's presence.
A few years later, however, after founding the Missionaries of Charity and beginning her work with the poor, darkness descended on her inner life. In 1957, she wrote to the archbishop of Calcutta about her struggles, saying, "I find no words to express the depths of the darkness."
But to conclude that Mother Teresa was a crypto-atheist is to misread both the woman and the experience that she was forced to undergo.
Even the most sophisticated believers sometimes believe that the saints enjoyed a stress-free spiritual life — suffering little personal doubt. For many saints this is accurate: St. Francis de Sales, the 17th-century author of "An Introduction to the Devout Life," said that he never went more than 15 minutes without being aware of God's presence. Yet the opposite experience is so common it even has a name. St. John of the Cross, the Spanish mystic, labeled it the "dark night," the time when a person feels completely abandoned by God, and which can lead even ardent believers to doubt God's existence.
During her final illness, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the 19th-century French Carmelite nun who is now widely revered as "The Little Flower," faced a similar trial, which seemed to center on doubts about whether anything awaited her after death. "If you only knew what darkness I am plunged into," she said to the sisters in her convent. But Mother Teresa's "dark night" was of a different magnitude, lasting for decades. It is almost unparalleled in the lives of the saints.
In time, with the aid of the priest who acted as her spiritual director, Mother Teresa concluded that these painful experiences could help her identify not only with the abandonment that Jesus Christ felt during the crucifixion, but also with the abandonment that the poor faced daily. In this way she hoped to enter, in her words, the "dark holes" of the lives of the people with whom she worked. Paradoxically, then, Mother Teresa's doubt may have contributed to the efficacy of one of the more notable faith-based initiatives of the last century.
Few of us, even the most devout believers, are willing to leave everything behind to serve the poor. Consequently, Mother Teresa's work can seem far removed from our daily lives. Yet in its relentless and even obsessive questioning, her life intersects with that of the modern atheist and agnostic. "If I ever become a saint," she wrote, "I will surely be one of `darkness.' "
Mother Teresa's ministry with the poor won her the Nobel Prize and the admiration of a believing world. Her ministry to a doubting modern world may have just begun.
James Martin is a Jesuit priest and the author of "My Life With the Saints."