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Catherine’s ideas about mission might not surprise you. Or they might. In the following letter, written in July 1965, she tried to convey some of her vision to the director she had appointed to found a mission house in what was then East Pakistan and is now Bangladesh. This house is no longer in existence.
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Dear Theresa,
So you have moved to Chittagong and, true to the spirit of Madonna House, you have begun by restoring your house to God, that is, by making the place clean and habitable again, a place of hospitality, love and dialogue. Alleluia!
Remember that you are in Pakistan to be peace-makers and that the making of peace begins with yourselves.
You have to keep God’s peace, his inner peace, in your souls, minds, and hearts. If you are serene and peaceful yourselves, and growing as you should be in faith and love, then Wisdom will show you the way of being real peace-makers to others.
Do what you can, pray always, and trust the Holy Spirit to solve the problems that no one else can. If this is your inner disposition, then all will be well with you.
Never worry, be upset, or be disturbed when people say, “Show us the results of your works. Show us the results of your existence in this country.”
Simply answer that, frankly, being only the sowers, you don’t know the fruits of your work. Explain that God is the harvester and that it is up to him to evaluate the fruits and either hide them from you or show them to you, in part, or in whole, as he wills.
Ask the people who challenge you, if they can measure, weigh, or analyze love, friendship, understanding. Tell them the story of the people of Gorapar, who wept when you left them for a few days and then ask if, for this return of love and friendship, it wouldn’t be worthwhile to spend a lifetime in Gorapar.
I would speak about love, and I would discard the yardstick of measuring mission activities or life by the amount of things done, things accomplished, children taught, children cured by cleanliness, etc. Of these I would not speak.
I would speak of you three people loving and serving in a sea of complacency, indifference, poverty, etc. And I would speak of dying to oneself and emptying oneself.
I would give as an example the Little Brothers and Sisters of Charles de Foucauld. Their founder did not have even one follower during his lifetime.
The answer is clear and few words are necessary. Martha, Martha, you are busy about many things when only one matters (Luke 10:41). Meditate on these words, dear heart. Let the peace of Christ penetrate the very marrow of your soul and give his peace to others.
What will your house be? In my mind—I allow myself this much planning, subject to God’s approval—I see it as a place of love, of immense charity, as an open house of hospitality where the poor, the natives, the whites, the lay apostles, the priests—everybody—comes to be refreshed, without receiving material help first and foremost, and as a center of adult education in handicraft, hygiene, and 1001 other things.
I see it as a meeting place for Muslims, Hindus, Jews, Protestants, and Catholics. I see it as a place of healing for minds and souls, a place of peace and prayer.
This does not preclude outside activities, but I’d go slow on the “outside” activities as of yet. You three have to establish a bridge between East and West, so it seems to me that you should be more in the house than running hither, thither, and yon.
I know it is very difficult for Americans and Canadians to rent a house and then to be, to wait, to see the many needs as they become evident, and then to choose from among the many needs, the ones that lead to being a bridge. But this is what you have to meditate about and see if you can at least try to do.
I am truly afraid that you will unconsciously transmit the spirit of feverish activity, at once so characteristic of the West and so abhorrent to the East, by getting into an active work such as teaching, and running all around when instead you should be sitting in the house and waiting for the Lord to show you the real needs of the poor people of the East.
You know, it surprises me that you do not understand that already you have produced the apostolate of which I speak. Let me show you some of your fruits.
1) The most extraordinary one is what happened to you in Gorapar, when after just a short stay, the people came to see you off and wept when you left them for just a short while.
This is the highlight of your two years. This is God’s joy and the real fruit of your apostolate.
2) You describe visiting with the people whose whole village had been destroyed. It was your second visit to that village. You speak of a woman who touched your feet, who cried on your shoulder, and with whom you also cried.
You mention in passing that the people there all welcomed you because of having seen you once before, during your first friendly visit to them.
That is your second fruit.
3) You might have forgotten it, but you went to visit a girl who had tetanus. And when no one else wanted to, you helped burn and clear out a house in which a mother and son had died of TB.
This is the third great fruit.
But do you know what I consider to be the biggest fruit of your apostolate? Don’t laugh, for it is not a laughing matter. It is the essence of our apostolate—your utter inability to help the victims of the cyclone except by weeping with them, loving them, and praying for them.
This very inability is your greatest fruit. Now you are crucified on the cross of real poverty. Now you are like Christ, who saved the world by his death, not by his action alone. Now you are in the heart of the mystery of our apostolate, of the Gospel, of the mission!
Do you see this? I’m afraid not. Nothing in your letters reflects this understanding, and yet it is the essence of your apostolate.
I am trying to convey to you an attitude of mind, heart and soul. I wish I had words of fire to instil within you that yardstick by which you would cease centering on works instead of on being.
Lovingly yours in Mary,
Catherine
Excerpted from Catherine’s Letters to Theresa Davis, her daughter in the spirit. Unpublished
