LETTER TO MOTHER THERESA
Sorry, but sainthood could make one a slave of sin

Hello, Mother Theresa. Are you a slave of sin? I’m just really curious; thanks for not fainting. It must be hot there in India—Gandhi hardly wore any clothes. Thanks in advance for putting up with me and giving me an opportunity to explain my question.

I’m telling you, you’re a real saint. I respect you for what you’ve done to ease the burden of today’s less fortunate. I’m just using you as an example, I hope you understand. You should get a royalty for every time someone uses you as an example! How would that be? It’s always you and Hitler, you and Hitler. Hitler is always the example of the bad guy, and you are always the example of the good guy. Except you’re not a guy. Are you?

This is really saying something for you, Mother Theresa, that you’re always used as a good example. I’m serious about the royalty thing, but I know you would give the royalty to the poor. That’s great. I’d probably keep it and pay my electric bill; you’re lucky you don’t have an electric bill. I know you save a lot of money that way. And from what I hear, you don’t have a car, either. I just tried to picture you driving a car and I had to laugh. Again, forgive me. It’s really not a laughing matter, though, because this is another source of great savings for you. I envy you! My cars always break down. I mean, when is the last time you had to have a transmission rebuilt?  

It’s possible that you could be a slave of sin. Thank you for your patience! Being a slave of sin has nothing to do with whether or not a person sins, but with where that person’s focus is. Is a person focused on Christ and what He has accomplished? Is this person feeling light and airy and happy, in spite of their moral difficulties? Maybe they smoke, maybe they drink, maybe they look at porno magazines. (God forbid!) But if this person appreciates Christ’s work, then this person is free from sin.

But now here’s the rub, Mother Theresa. What if a person is a pretty darn good person—I’m talking about a person such as yourself, for instance—and this person is busy trying to eliminate sin from his or her life. And lets say that this person is so concerned with being good that they’ve lost sight of Christ’s work? I’m not saying that this is you—come on, now, Mother Theresa—but—would you have to admit that it could be you? If it would be you, then you would be a slave of sin. Thank you for your patience! I can’t believe all the money you must save by not having a car.

How many times a day do you eat? Do you eat any exotic foods? An exotic food for you is probably a kiwi. Do you have graham crackers in India? Have you ever heard of s’mores? I have a feeling you’d like them. How many changes of clothes do you have? I’ve been hand-washing the same pair of underwear for about two weeks now because I’m too busy paying bills that I can’t afford new underwear. I know you’d appreciate this, which is why I mentioned it; probably anybody else reading this would be embarrassed for me. But not you! You are an amazing woman, Mother Theresa. And I do believe you’re all woman. I really do respect all you’ve done for the poor. If I were poor, I’d definitely want to see you walking toward my pallet. I have taken the liberty of sending you my books. I write books on spirituality. I get kind of rough with religious people once in a while in the books—especially Catholics—because of all the hypocrisy in religion, especially the Catholic religion. I appreciate your patience with me. Yes, yes, I know you’re Catholic. So is the pope! (That’s a little joke there.) Please don’t take offense at this; try to see this from my perspective; try to picture me walking toward your pallet, if you can.

The thing is, Mother Theresa, I’ve got mountains of orthodox error to undo. You’ve heard the orthodox lines for eighty years, I’m sure. I’ve got my program of grace to keep preaching, and maybe you’re really getting into that by now. Keep reading my stuff, if you can, if you have time; I’m assuming you’re still reading. That’s tremendous. When you put my paperbacks down at night, I want it to go through your head while you sleep: a slave of sin is worried about sin. I, Mother Theresa, could be a slave of sin. Holy Moses, but Martin Zender does disturb me in a good way. I am glad that God brought Martin Zender into my life. He only wants the best for me, even though he is somewhat of an arrogant son of a bitch.

Mother Theresa, if you roll off your mat every morning and say to yourself, Mother Theresa, you better work hard today to make sure that you don’t sin, because sinning not only displeases God, but it will botch up your ministry in people’s eyes, then, well, Mother Theresa--I realize that you might not use the word "botch," but you get the idea. If you wake up every day and are determined to curb your flesh, to try not to sin, then you are a slave of sin. I’m sorry to keep bringing this up; I can be a thorn in people’s flesh, that’s for sure. But then you already know that from my books! If you’re not a slave of sin, then please ignore my last 1000 words and have a good day. You have been very patient with me. Your patience is legendary. I mean, you make Job look like crap.

What in God’s name is the temperature there? I bet it’s hot! Are you in summer or winter now? Did you ever meet Gandhi? Did you find him attractive—at all? Just wondering. I think you and Gandhi would have made a hell of a pair.

Sincerely Yours,

Martin Zender