Go Beyond

   I am home from Kolkata and my heart will never be the same again. I already miss the men at Mother Teresa’s homes. My heart aches because I have seen their faces, touched their broken and fragile bodies, heard their cries, and watched them die. They are no longer the people I have read about, they are now the people among whom I have walked. I will think of them daily and look forward to returning to Kolkata to serve them again. In the meantime, I will continue to look for Jesus in His distressing disguise in my own community. Here are some final thoughts about serving in two of Mother Teresa’s homes in Kolkata.

   The Worst of Suffering | My time at Prem Dan (home for the destitute) and Nirmal Hriday (home for the dying) exposed me to the worst of human suffering. Throughout my years of travel I have seen terrible human suffering — much of it from a safe distance. This past week I saw human suffering up close and personal. I met and held the people who have lived lifetimes in social and emotional exile in dark and filthy places on the streets of Kolkata. Whether stripped of dignity by caste, deformities, or other vulnerabilities, each of the men I met wore the guise of distress. Death reduced their population daily at the homes where I served, but Suffering always sent in replacements. These men live each day with the awareness that Death may soon come to escort them away from their band of brothers.

   The Best of Service | This week I met dozens of volunteers from all nations and all walks of life who were drawn to Kolkata because of the enduring legacy of a diminutive nun named Mother Teresa. Even though language differences kept some of us from communicating with each other, we all understood the needs of the residents and worked together in perfect harmony to care for them. The Italian volunteers were my favorites. I looked forward to doing laundry with them each morning. They lifted our spirits by singing at the top of their lungs. Mother Teresa said, “I very often tell the Sisters to approach the poor with joy, knowing that they have plenty of reasons to be sad. They don’t need us to confirm their sadness for them.” The Italian volunteers filled the air with joy.

   Kali’s Devotees | Nirmal Hriday is located in a space adjacent to Kali’s Temple (Kalighat) in Kolkata. The name Calcutta (Kolkata) is believed to have been derived from Kalighat. Every afternoon we walked through a gauntlet of merchants hawking religious stuff, lots of it, on our way to Nirmal Hriday. The crowded street between the vendors’ shops was littered with the wreckage of suffering humanity – people with twisted or missing limbs, steeped in their own filth, crying out to passers-by for help. Kali’s devotees kept their distance from them, perhaps because they believed that karma had assigned these individuals to this wretched incarnation because of something amiss in a previous existence.

   Little Jesuses | I worked alongside Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity as they tenderly ministered to the least of these. These women are like little Jesuses. As taught by Mother Teresa, they look for Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor and suffering. And, when they find him, they do for that person what Jesus would do. Christ set the ultimate example of caring for others and calls His followers to do the same. Worldview does matter when it comes to caring for the least of these, including those from Hindu backgrounds. I am especially grateful to have shared this experience with Jon and Holloway. I saw Jesus in these faithful men, and so did the recipients of their kindness. I am blessed to call them my friends. The journey will continue for us here at home as we care for the least of these in our own community. Thanks to each of you who prayed for us daily.

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PS | Please take a moment to read Jon’s reflections on our trip. You’ll enjoy his insights.