My Sunday Sermon

Working twelve hour night shifts back to back leaves me little time for anything other than work-sleep-work-sleep, so I was only peripherally aware that something was afoot with Mother Teresa.

After my morning nap, I managed to read the article in Time magazine (note to self: does the magazine come in large print?).

I've long admired Mother Teresa. See, I think good works are important. I don't care for whom or why you do good works. Do them for God, for Jesus, for Allah. Do them because you think it makes you look good or may get you laid. Do them because it makes you feel good.

To me, it doesn't matter why, it matters that you do.

I think Mother Teresa was the rock star of doing good works.

And it made me angry at the Catholic Church - because the letters were mostly to her confessors over the years and she asked that the letters not be made public because she didn't want people to think more of her and not of Jesus.

And I understand the great story of it and the potential help it will be for those who struggle with their faith.

But, but, but. There is that pesky but.

She did not want this. The Church violated her wishes, violated the sacrament of the confessional.

The confession is either inviolate or it is not.

I'm sure priests over the years have heard confessions that would make excellent teaching points, but they can't use those stories in their next sermons.

So they violate their own laws because it will be a good story. They violate Mother Teresa's most private struggle - a struggle that should rightly remain between her, her God and her spiritual advisor/confessor - because it will make a point.

I don't think it is right.



Me too, Loki, me too.