★★★★★

Maybe you read the story of Mother Teresa from her friends, those who served alongside her. Maybe you read it differently from her detractors, like Christopher Hitchens. Here is the story from her own hand … a brutally honest account, because she had no intention of anyone ever reading it. This is an annotated collection of her personal letters, mostly to those in authority over her in the Church. She begged repeatedly that these letters be destroyed, so that the world would never know what was in her heart as she ministered in Calcutta among the poorest of the poor. But the Church, after beautifying her as a saint, felt the letters were an important part of Catholic history. Rather than destroying them, after her death they were published in this book.

For the first time, the rest of the world was made aware of the deep darkness inside this saint. Mother Teresa had pleaded over and over with the Church to be allowed to go to India and set up a ministry there for the poor. She felt she had received direction straight from Jesus for this task, and that by being a help and comfort to them—the forsaken, the lepers, the hungry, the sick—she was sharing the love of Jesus. Years, she waited for permission, before it was granted. But almost immediately upon arrival, she began to feel a darkness in her soul. She felt no God there in India. God had abandoned her, leaving only darkness, despair, and doubt. Doubt about whether there was a heaven; doubt at times about even His existence. For nearly fifty years until her death, she struggled with darkness in her soul, painting a smile on her face so as to be an encouragement to others, while bearing the pain alone.

“The place of God in my soul is blank—There is no God in me—when the pain of longing is so great—I just long and long for God—and then it is that I feel—He does not want me—He is not there—“

Every single letter in the book, I believe, contained a plea for others to pray for her, that she could endure the darkness.

“Pray for me—for within me everything is icy cold.”

“I am told God loves me—and yet the reality of darkness & coldness & emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul. … The whole time smiling …my cheerfulness is the cloak by which I cover the emptiness & misery.”

I get the feeling that even the book’s author, in collecting and presenting these letters, underestimated the depth of Mother Teresa’s hopelessness:

“If there be no God—there can be no soul.—If there is no soul then Jesus—You also are not true.—Heaven, what emptiness—not a single thought of Heaven enters my mind—for there is no hope. … In my heart there is no faith—no love—no trust—there is so much pain—the pain of longing, the pain of not being wanted. … I don’t pray any longer.

“If there is hell—this must be one. How terrible it is to be without God—no prayer—no faith—no love.”

The darkness never lifted. I think it was only in about the last ten years of her life that she finally made peace with it, comparing it to the darkness Jesus felt in the Garden, and on the cross. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Mother Teresa found in the darkness a “greater identification with the poor,” and in this way, lived out the rest of her life in service.

As [Jesus] approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it

“Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means Sent). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.

★★★★★

What do you get when you merge the book of Revelation with astrology?

You get what you start with: Revelation, in the spirit in which it was written. Few people give credence to the astrological underpinnings of Revelation, and the utter fascination its intended first-century audience held with the mysteries of the heavens. So while I knew I would disagree with Gable’s future-based interpretation of Revelation (I myself have little faith in astrology but quite a bit of faith in the historical-critical approach to Revelation—see my own book about the topic here www.dubiousdisciple.com/revelation), I wondered if his work would provide an exposition that does justice to this fascinating Bible book.

I wasn’t disappointed. Gable lays out a timeline of events, culminating in a future reappearance of Christ, just as the original readers of Revelation would have expected. It’s the first century all over again! Computer projections tell us there is a time coming when all the signs in the heavens align with the prophecies of Revelation and other scriptures. I won’t play the spoiler by telling you when that time will arrive; buy the book to learn when it all happens.

Gable treks through each of the seven Trumpet signs of Revelation, explaining their relevance and the “heavenly sign” which will trigger them. For example, the first judgment will arrive as the planet Saturn and the moon both participate in an eclipse of the sun, turning the earth into darkness during the daytime.

One of the more fascinating projections is the appearance of a light tunnel stretching from heaven down to earth, precisely at the time Gable calculates that the armies of heaven will arrive for Armageddon. Gable describes this tunnel like Jacob’s Ladder, enabling heaven’s hosts to travel down to earth for battle.

Gable feels no awkwardness in drawing on pagan mythology, as he points out common associations with the stars in antiquity. Jupiter is a messianic star, being associated with the Messiah. Mercury represents the Antichrist, Mars is the god of war, Neptune is the god of water and the sea. The meaning of the constellations, too, borrow from Greek and Roman mythology.

Heavenly Signs is stunningly beautiful, in full color. I’m a hard sell on the theology, but I strongly endorse Gable’s book for its authenticity of spirit and fascinating astrology.

And the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch.

//I’ve had a number of discussions on various forums about what I believe, and I seldom feel like I’m getting through, so maybe I could just take a minute and lay it out for you.

I am a Christian. Yes, I realize fully that my definition of Christian probably does not match yours. To me, it just means a follower of Christ.

This is more than word games to me. The title “Christian” derives from “Christ within.” I don’t think of this relationship in supernatural terms, but in spiritual terms; the spirit of Christ can reside in me just as the spirit of my own father can reside in me. I’m flattered when others see my human father in me, but I can think of no greater compliment than for another to see Christ in me.

This is because I admire and seek to emulate the humanitarian teachings of Jesus. Jesus held a vision for the future that he believed would change the world, and apparently others began to believe in his vision too, even hailing him as Christ. Christ means “Messiah,” the anointed savior of the world. In my opinion, Jesus was and is precisely the type of savior our world most needs. If our world needs saving, Jesus’ example of breaking down barriers with love and compassion is the saving solution. So, I have no problem calling Jesus “Christ,” for the world-saving message he taught.

But do I worship Jesus? No. As best I can tell, the last thing Jesus wanted was to be worshipped. I could hardly emulate him if he did, for I have absolutely no desire to be worshipped either.

Do I worship God, then? Not in ritualistic practice, because I don’t know for sure if there is a God! It’s a great question, and I find the study of religion, both ancient and contemporary, equally fascinating. But “God” really has nothing to do with me being a Christian. When I read scripture for inspiration, I’m quite content to think of God in generic terms like Love, Light, Life.

Jesus believed in a God. I’m quite aware of that. Jesus also believed God was 100% behind his humanitarian vision. He even wrapped his dream for the world  in religious terms like the “kingdom of God” and the “reign of God,” describing the prophets’ promise of an age when God would once again dwell with people on earth. I, too, imagine that if there is a God, he approved of Jesus’ vision. But, really, God (as a supernatural being) is beside the point, as far as my being a Christian. I see no need to confuse my discipleship with my religious beliefs. While Jesus’ 2,000-year-old understanding of God and the universe is quite antiquated, his humanitarian teachings will never grow outdated, regardless of culture and era. It is Jesus’ vision for a new world that I share, not the religious customs and beliefs of his era.

There have been other great humanitarian teachers and leaders, but my own heritage is uniquely Christian. For me, Jesus is the one. He’s my chosen example, and I am a Christian.

But whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; he is guilty of an eternal sin.

Oh that my words were now written! oh that they were printed in a book! That they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ever!

In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim king of Judah, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon came to Jerusalem and besieged it. And the Lord delivered Jehoiakim king of Judah into his hand …