‘The vocation of the Missionaries of Charity was and is the love of Jesus’

By Archbishop Thomas Wenski - The Archdiocese of Miami

Archbishop Thomas Wenski preached this homily Sept. 5, 2024, at the Missionaries of Charity shelter in Miami. September 5 is the feast day of their foundress, Mother Teresa of Kolkata (Calcutta).

Mother Teresa went home to heaven 27 years ago today. She died five days after Princess Diana; and just two days after I was ordained a bishop.

The day of her “birthday” in heaven is also her feast day — and so, we join with her, and all the angels and saints in heaven, and offer our worship to God by celebrating the Holy Eucharist, the Sacrifice of the Mass.

With the help of her prayers, with the encouragement of her words, and through the example of her life, may we too come to share in the joys of heaven.

The Holy Mass is a special prayer; but Mother Teresa herself would say, "Try to feel the need for prayer often during the day and take the trouble to pray.”

“Prayer,” she would tell people, “makes the heart large enough until it can contain God's gift of Himself.”

Yet prayer — as the life of Mother Teresa shows with great translucency — does not distance oneself from the cares of the world or the needs of one’s neighbor. Prayer is a lifting up of one’s heart and mind to God, but doing so doesn’t mean one ignores one’s neighbor — as Pope Francis has said, “to ignore man’s suffering is to ignore God.”

“True worship,” Pope Francis adds, “does not exist if it is not translated into service to one’s neighbor.”

Jesus said it clearly in today’s Gospel parable of the Last Judgment. “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brethren, you do to me.”

Mother Teresa would urge us to recognize Christ in our neighbor — even when he appears in various disguises — sometimes disagreeable ones. “People,” Mother would say, “are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered. Love them anyway.”

Today, we must recognize Jesus in our neighbor who suffers from any disease, but we must not fail to recognize him in those diseases – of mind and body, that disproportionately affect and infect the poorest of the poor.

Let us pray for the homeless and also for those down the street in the intensive care unit at Jackson Hospital.  And, here in Miami, we cannot forget to pray for those suffering in those islands of pain – in Haiti, in Cuba, in Nicaragua and in Venezuela.  And through the Eucharist that feeds and sustains us, may we not fail to serve all those who, like Jesus, cry out: “I thirst”.  I thirst not only for water, but for love, for compassion, for friendship.

Mother Teresa was a real woman who took great risks, who had a real belief that Jesus called her to do what she was doing, and she went ahead and did it without hesitation. Some people were scandalized that she did not shun publicans and sinners — like Jesus, she met with them and often recruited their assistance; others criticized her because she did not adopt the sophisticated approaches to poverty of a modern NGO, or because she was not a crusader against social injustice and structural sin in the style of many self-styled champions of the downtrodden. She took on the battles she knew she could win. “If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed one,” she would say.

The vocation of the Missionaries of Charity, founded by Mother Teresa, was not to be simply their work. The vocation of the Missionaries of Charity was and is the love of Jesus. Again, to quote Mother Teresa, “I see Jesus in every human being. I say to myself, this is a hungry Jesus, I must feed him. This is a sick Jesus. This one has leprosy or gangrene. I must wash and tend to him. I serve because I love Jesus.”

She and her sisters have modeled for us a Church that is close to the poor, a Church that is a mother to the poor, a Church that lives in the joy of serving the poor.

Bishop (Agustin) Roman, a much-loved figure in this community, in giving a catechetical lesson would tell the story of a young boy who, when asked what a “saint” was, responded: “A saint is a window in a church.”

In fact, stained glass windows often do depict images of saints. And so, Bishop Roman would explain how saints are indeed like stained glass windows, for just as stained glass windows let the sun’s light into a church, so saints let in the light of the Gospel into our world.

Certainly, transparency is a mark of holiness — windowpanes are transparent; but a stained-glass window, even while letting in the light of the sun, will absorb some of the light so as to produce different colors. Saints are transparent — the Gospel shines through them; but the saints “absorb” the Gospel and produce a mosaic not of vivid colors but of holiness. Holiness does not diminish the personality of the saint; holiness perfects it.

Mother visited Miami — and she visited this very place. A saint walked, stood, prayed and served right here. Isn’t that something? But let’s not forget why she came here, and why she sent her sisters here. And do you know why? Because she found Jesus here. Isn’t that something, that even though we can be sometimes unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered, that even though we can be poor, confused, thirsty, forgotten or abandoned, Mother could see Jesus in us.

This is the great Mystery of Faith — Jesus gives himself to us hidden under the appearance of bread and wine, so that we give ourselves to him as he appears to us in various disguises — even disagreeable ones.

Mother Teresa of Kolkata, pray for us.