Mother Teresa
We approach the last book to be considered in these two chapters on “My Books.” The order was not planned, but it may be appropriate that with Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light we return full circle to the spiritual ethos of our first classic writer, John of the Cross from the sixteenth century. With John we encountered the theme of “dark faith” that also characterized the later ministry of Mother Teresa (1910--1997), a special lady known to most contemporary Christians for her ministry among the poor and the dying. The book is Brian Kolodiejchuk’s illuminating work, Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, The Private Writings of the “Saint of Calcutta,” in which he documents and describes how Mother Teresa in her own unique manner lived the spiritual heritage of John of the Cross in the twentieth century.
At the age of fifty two, Mother Teresa made a “kind of ‘mission statement’” that helps us understand her spiritual life, indeed her whole life”: “If I ever become a Saint—I will surely be one of ‘darkness.’ I will continually be absent from Heaven—to light the light of those in darkness on earth.”
And “light the light” of countless folk, she certainly did. For decades she was the object of public interest; attention was paid to her particularly at her death at the age of eighty-seven. As Kolodiejchuk asked, “What was the source of this attractive force drawing so many people to her?” How does this “source” relate to the heart of the Christian gospel as heard and practiced by Mother Teresa?
Three aspects of Mother Teresa’s interior life were revealed during the process of canonization (beatified October 19, 2003). In addition to her private vow as a nun (1942), and the mystical experiences (September 10, 1946) that led to the founding of the Missionaries of Charity, was “her intimate sharing in the Cross of Christ through the long years of interior darkness.” This darkness as it became the greatest trial of her life, relates to her “sharing in the Cross of Christ”—and to the power of the resurrection so evident in her ministry. Here we tap into the essential witness and piercing impact of Kolodiejchuk’s book.
Gonxha Agnes Bojaxhiu was born in Skopje, Macedonia, on August 26, 1910, and at eighteen on September 26, 1928, she left her native Albania for Ireland to join the Sisters of Loreto located in Calcutta. At age twelve in 1922, she knew that she “had a vocation to the poor.” The hand of God was on her life uniquely from childhood in ways that extend beyond what most of us know. When Mother Teresa joined the Loreto order she was named after Thérèse of Lisieux, “the Little Flower” (1873—1897). After a five week journey she arrived in Calcutta on January 6, 1929, and made her first profession of vows on May 25, 1931.
As Mother Teresa approached her final vows on May 24, 1937, although she had her share of sufferings, she was described as one for whom “the joy she radiated around her effectively hid her trials.” In a February 8, 1937, letter she wrote: “I have joyfully carried my cross with Jesus. . . . Now I embrace suffering even before it actually comes, and like this Jesus and I live in love.” Her identification with the Cross appears as a part of her early ministry as was the experience of darkness: “I have more often as my companion ‘darkness.’ And when the night becomes very thick . . . then I simply offer myself to Jesus.” Her experience during this period appears to be similar to the spiritual or purification processes of John of the Cross’ “night of the senses” and “night of the spirit.” What is obvious is that her unique spirituality and vocation was early in place as she was being prepared by Providence for an unusual ministry—a ministry that was more deeply than most grounded in or prepared to flow from the spiritual dynamic of the cross and resurrection of Jesus.
Crucial for Mother Teresa was the private vow made in April 1942: “I made a vow to God, binding under [pain of] mortal sin, to give to God anything that He may ask, ‘Not to refuse Him anything.’” This was one of her greatest secrets, which, she said, “hides everything in me,” as she revealed seventeen years later—“to say ‘Yes’ to God in all circumstances.” Irrevocable vows (besa) were a part of her Albanian heritage and a matter of honor: “She was determined to be faithful to her word given to God, even at the price of her life.” “The confidence to so abandon herself to God came out of her certainty that God loved her unconditionally. In fulfilling this vow she found her joy in life. She was a fun-loving and cheerful person for as one who knew her observed, “cheerfulness is often a cloak which hides a life of sacrifice, continual union with God, fervor and generosity.”
On the train September 10, 1946, as she journeyed for her annual retreat to the Loreto Convent in Darlington, she experienced a decisive mystical encounter with Christ. Although she kept the details veiled in silence, years later she did reveal to Malcom Muggeridge that
[It] was a call within my vocation. It was a second calling. It was a vocation to give up even Loreto where I was very happy and to go out in the streets to serve the poorest of the poor. It was in that train, I head the call to give up all and follow Him into the slums—to serve Him in the poorest of the poor. . . . There was no doubt that it was going to be His work.
This day, which she celebrated later as “Inspiration Day,” she considered to be the real beginning of the Missionaries of Charity. This mystical experience or call took place in the context of Calvary when Jesus, dying on the Cross, cried out “I thirst.” For her the expressed aim of the Missionaries of Charity was “to satiate the thirst of Jesus Christ on the Cross for Love and Souls.” Jesus’ saying, “I thirst,” became central to her calling and to what the Missionaries of Charity were to be.
The validity of Mother Teresa’s special call, however, had to be tested and discerned by her spiritual director and by her superiors in the monastic order and in the Church. Her spiritual director, for example, forbade her for a season to think or speak about it. After four months, however, he had no doubt that her inspiration was from God and gave her permission to write to the archbishop, which she did on January 1, 1947. After several pleading letters to the archbishop and a period of prayerful waiting on the part of those in authority, the permission came to her to found the Missionaries of Charity on January 6, 1948. The process of discerning the will of God for such a radical undertaken had taken a year and three and one-half months from when the call first came to her on September 10, 1946. Her desire to become a European nun living outside the convent walls identifying with the poor in their local culture and conditions was soon to reach fulfillment.
On August 17, 1948, clad in a white saris with blue border, Mother Teresa set out, a European nun alone in India, to begin life as a Missionary of Charity. She possessed only five rupees, her entire capital. Her confidence was in the promise God made to her two years earlier: “Do not fear—I shall be with you always. . . . Trust me lovingly—trust me blindly.”
On December 21, 1948, for the first time Mother Teresa went to the slums as a Missionary of Charity—“a light has dawned in the darkness of the slums.” The poverty she met was staggering. As she had foreseen, “this new life was bringing her ‘for the most part only suffering.’ Yet she accepted that it had to be so, for this was ‘the dark night of the birth of the Society.’” Mother Teresa began her work with only volunteer help, but was soon praying for followers to help her and by June 1950, her community numbered twelve. On October 7, 1950, the archbishop officially established the Missionaries of Charity in the archdiocese of Calcutta.
Suffering was taken by Mother Teresa as a means in her vocation. The care for the poor became more and more demanding. Soon she found a place for the “hopeless” cases, the dying that no hospital would take. For her, “the neglected, the rejected, the underserved closely resembled the suffering Christ—‘Christ in distressing disguise—gave her the opportunity to put her love into living action.’” These sufferings, she took as her own, “uniting her with Christ in His Passion and with the poorest of the poor in their pain.”
By 1953, Mother Teresa’s inspiration of 1946 for a flourishing community serving the poorest of the poor was now a living reality, and all the challenges and sufferings had been worth it. Yet, she was experiencing a painful interior ordeal for which she repeatedly sought spiritual support and finally revealed. As she wrote on March 18, 1953, to the archbishop on her interior state that had been developing since the founding of the Missionaries of Charity:
Please pray specially for me that I may not spoil His work and that Our Lord may show Himself—for there is such terrible darkness within me, as if everything was dead. It has been like this more or less from the time I started “the work.” Ask our Lord to give me courage.
The accomplishments of the community soon attracted admiration and praise, and accounts of their work soon appeared locally and internationally. This deeply concerned her for she was fearful that they were getting too much publicity for the good of the Society.
In the midst of such fruitfulness, Mother Teresa’s darkness continued. Summed up, “Interior darkness was Mother Teresa’s privileged way of entering in the mystery of the Cross of Christ.” We are beginning to see the context of and the unique role her “darkness” played in her vocation: “Pray for me—for within me everything is icy cold.—It is only that blind faith that carries me through for in reality to me all is darkness.”
Mother Teresa’s life was a contradiction in that she could not sense the presence of God in her life, yet she was in the throes of “a torturing longing for God.” But paradoxically “she clung steadfastly to the faith she professed, and without a drop of consolation, labored wholeheartedly in her daily service of the poorest of the poor.” Absence and presence came together as the hidden power of her ministry. Her darkness motivated the intensity of devotion that enabled her demanding ministry; it invigorated her impulse to mission.
Mother Teresa’s followers perceived her as a very balanced and joyful person, even when things went wrong. In response to the counsel of Father Neuner, Mother Teresa in 1961 even expressed gratitude for her darkness:
For the first time in this 11 years—I have come to love the darkness.—For I believe now that it is a part, a very, very small part of Jesus’ darkness & pain on earth. . . . Today really I felt a deep joy—that Jesus can’t go anymore through the agony—but that He wants to go through it in me.—More than ever I surrender myself to Him.\
A turning point in her understanding of her darkness came with the realization that the darkness was the spiritual side of her work as she shared in Christ’s redemptive suffering identifying with those she served: “she was drawn mystically into the deep pain they experienced as a result of feeling unwanted and rejected and, above all, by living without faith in God.” As the transformation was taking place in her soul, the darkness was actually the mysterious link that united her to Jesus.
John of the Cross’s purificatory night of the spirit was now being transformed into a reparatory night of the spirit, a darkness concerned more with her ministry than with her person. As she wrote to her sisters in July 1261, “My dear children—without our suffering, our work would just be social work, very good and helpful, but it would not be the work of Jesus Christ, not part of the redemption.” She had grasped the meaning of her trial and would say with the apostle Paul in Colossians 1:24: “I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.”
Mother Teresa’s darkness, which she saw as the price of lighting “the fire of love,” seems to increase, “Pray for me—for the life within me is harder to live. To be in love & yet not to love, to live by faith and yet not to believe. To spend myself and yet be in total darkness.” Yet she could say, “Thank God we don’t serve God with our feelings, otherwise I don’t know where I would be.” It appears that she had not read John of the Cross carefully, and did not realize that her “agonizing and interminable darkness was reparatory rather than purgative,” that is, given not to purify her faith, but to empower her ministry.
Kolodiejchuk’s work shows us clearly that Mother Teresa’s darkness was part and parcel of her unique anointing for her also unique, blessed of God, ministry. Even with this absence of a vivid sense of God’s presence in prayer, her life was one of uncompromising fidelity to prayer: “People were fascinated just watching Mother pray. They would sit there and watching her be really drawn into this mystery.” In November 1979, she was again elected superior general by the Missionaries of Charity. Shortly after, on December 11, 1979, she received the Nobel Peace Prize. Mother Teresa understood that the Nobel Peace Prize had helped many people find their way to the poor that prompted her to guard against any lessening of zeal in serving the poor. She handled the attention of the world’s great with great grace: “I am too small to understand it all.”
In July 1997, Mother Teresa returned to Calcutta after a journey to Rome, New York, and Washington, D.C., quietly observing, “My work is done.” On September 5, in the evening, the electricity failed, and thus “while Calcutta was in darkness, the earthly life of the one who had brought so much light to this city and to the whole world was extinguished.”
The fruit of silence is prayer, The fruit of prayer is faith, The fruit of faith is love, The fruit of love is service, The fruit of service is peace.
Thomas R. Kelly
We begin with A Testament of Devotion by the Quaker philosopher Thomas R. Kelly (1893-1941), one who “has been spoken of as a Brother Lawrence of our time: one who brought the presence of God into the commonest acts of daily life.” In the late 1960s at a Ministers’ Conclave in Pasadena, California, Elton T. Trueblood described this book as a modern classic. It was this reference to A Testament of Devotion that first led me to this delightfully powerful book. It consists of devotional essays selected by Douglas V. Steere from those published in various Quaker publications during the final three years of Thomas Kelly’s life. The crucial question is “Why those three years?”
We find the answer in a look into Kelly’s life from birth on June 4, 1893, until his sudden death of a heart attack at the age of forty-seven on January 17, 1941. He first saw the light of day on a farm in southwestern Ohio in the home of Quaker parents, an environment that gave birth to his life-long religious interests. At age four, his father died and his mother, concerned for the education of her children, moved the family to the Quaker college town of Wilmington, Ohio. At Wilmington College, Thomas completed his undergraduate education in the physical sciences. Another year spent at Haverford College in Pennsylvania brought him under the spell of Rufus Jones (1863-1948).
From Jones, Kelly “sensed the lure of philosophy and a search for truth,” an intense search that characterized his life from then on. Rufus Jones reported twenty-eight years later that this Quaker boy, on his first day at Haverford came to Jones’ house, “sat down in front of me, his face lighted up with radiance and he said suddenly, ‘I am just going to make my life a miracle.’” In 1926, two years after leaving Haverford he entered Hartford Theological Seminary to prepare for missionary work in the Far East.
At Hartford, he continued to be inspired by the thrill of learning and scholarship. After an interlude (June 1917-February 1918) spent working with German prisoners of war in England he took his Bachelor of Divinity degree in 1919. The day after graduation he married Lael Macy, the daughter of a nearby congregational minister whose household was often a haven for him and other Hartford Seminary students. Two years were then spent back at Wilmington College teaching philosophy followed by a return to Hartford to continue his studies in philosophy where he received his Ph.D. in June, 1924.
Following fifteen months in Germany serving German Quakers, Thomas Kelly answered the call to teach philosophy at Earlham College in Indiana in September of 1925. Although he was popular with both students and colleagues, he was not entirely happy. Earlham did not fulfill his dreams of being “associated with some college or university that lived by the austere and inexorable standards of excellence in truth which he had set for himself.” Further, his time with Rufus Jones, his exposure to German Quakers, and his own searching led to dissatisfaction with the service-oriented, yet distant from its own mystical roots, Quakerism, in the Indiana environment. As he described it to a friend, their “service does not always grow out of a more profound experience of the presence of God.” Also at this time he had an increasing interest in the thought of the Orient. Although Thomas and Lael had built a new home in Richmond gaily shared with students and friends, by 1930 the burning urge to get on with his quest for truth led him to Harvard University for a year’s further study in 1931.
At Harvard, Kelly was not satisfied with just the impact of the department of philosophy on his knowledge; he wanted to earn their approval and ultimately to receive a Harvard degree. There with his intimate vision of creation and the cosmos, Professor A. N. Whitehead’s “child-fresh font of unusual and apt words that he minted to illuminate some experience also gripped Thomas Kelly and gave him new courage to allow himself great freedom in his own style of expression.” Kelly returned very reluctantly to Earlham college to teach in 1932, a move that initiated the five darkest years of his life. Harvard had accepted his candidacy and he gave every spare moment to his thesis, driving himself at the expense of his health. In 1934, he spent a summer on the staff at Pendle Hill, moved to the University of Hawaii in 1935 to teach for a year that fit his special interest in Eastern Philosophy, and then returned to Haverford College in 1936 where he replaced D. Elton Trueblood who had been called to be chaplain and Professor of Philosophy of Religion at Stanf ord University. He had finished his Harvard dissertation in 1935 and finally published it in 1937. Harvard orals were ahead.
At this point in Kelly’s life, a new direction took place. He spoke later of having been melted down by the love of God that may be traced to his Harvard orals early fall 1937. He had driven himself so intensely physically and mentally that nervous exhaustion overtook him as he sat for his orals. The result was such an unsatisfactory performance that he was informed that a Harvard degree was forever closed to him. His world had caved in and his health was broken. How he handled this disappointment is not known. But sometime during November or December 1937 a change took place that he described as being “shaken by the experience of Presence—something that I did not seek, but that sought me.” The miracle he had spoken of earlier to Rufus Jones now happened to him in a way he never expected. This experience and similar ones that continued for the rest of his life, his son Richard writes, “are central in understanding Thomas Kelly’s mature writing and thought.”
Steere finds that “his writings and spoken messages began to be marked by a note of experimental authority.” The first public notice of this new authority is expressed in Steere’s quotation from a lecture Kelly gave in January 1938 to the Germantown Friend’s Meeting:
To you in this room who are seekers, to you, young and old who have toiled all night and caught nothing, but who want to launch out into the deeps and let down your nets for a draught, I want to speak as simply, as tenderly, as clearly as I can. For God can be found. There is a last rock for your souls, a resting place of absolute peace and joy and power and radiance and security. There is a Divine Center into which your life can slip, a new and absolute orientation in God, a Center where you live with Him and out of which you see all of life, through new and radiant vision, tinged with new sorrows and pangs, new joys unspeakable and full of glory.
In April 1938, Kelly wrote to Rufus Jones, “The reality of Presence has been very great at times recently.”
In the summer he revisited the German Friends whom he loved but had not seen for ten years. It was a time of mutual encouragement and fellowship in the Divine Presence. On his return in September 1938 he kept repeating to a friend, “It is wonderful. I have been literally melted down by the love of God.” Kelly did speak often of dry periods, “but he as often described with a radiant face the degrees of ecstasy one achieves when he is wholly committed to God.” Yet as his experience ripened, he more and more emphasized “the centrality of devotion, a devotion that far exceeds the mere possession of inward states of exaltation.” Thomas wrote:
mystical exaltations are not essential to religious dedication . . . [nor is] religion only for a small group, who have certain vivid but transient inner experience. . . . The crux of religious living lies in the will, not in transient and variable states. Utter dedication of the will is open to all . . . Where the will to will God’s will is present, there is a child of God.
The final three years of Kelly’s life brought with it a literary harvest in a series of messages published in various Quaker publications in which he, with unmistakable authenticity, poured out the prophet insights he had experienced. A few months after his death in January 1941, Douglas V. Steere edited and published a selection of these resulting in A Testament of Devotion. The titles of its five sections indicate the nature and Quaker heritage of the collection: “The Light Within,” “Holy Obedience,” The Blessed Community,” “The Eternal Now and Social Concern,” and “The Simplification of Life.” Steere concludes:
These devotional essays . . . are all written on the same theme and often develop an identical aspect, but always with fresh illumination. Few can resist feeling the power of the current that is in this stream. They are in very truth a testament of devotion.
Thomas Kelly taught me that “life is meant to be lived from a Center, a divine Center.” More specifically he declares that “there is a divine Abyss within us all, a holy Infinite Center, a Heart, a Life who speaks in us and through us to the world. . . . But too many of us have heeded the Voice only at times.” It was during a vacation period at my parents’ ranch in Nebraska, my boyhood home, that I first remember sensing the impact of reading A Testament of Devotion. It was probably during our last five years before the move to San Diego in 1973.
As I was driving from the country to town one day and thinking about my reading of Kelly’s book I began to sense a new conviction of the Presence of God underlying all of my life. It was not one necessarily emotionally felt, but rather a persistent faith-perception of its constant reality. Fears were allayed that the Presence of God in my life hung only by a mere thread of conscious feeling- or thought-activity on my part. From that vacation period on I knew that God’s Presence was there for me to be dipped into in moments of need and quiet recollection.
No matter where I was or what my involvements were, in personal encounters, in the classroom dialogue, or in crucial academic meetings, it was always possible to lift a faith-appeal to that Presence. That is not to say, however, that I always did this in such times of need, I am sorry to confess. On reflection, if I had been more faithful in such appeals over the years in all kinds of human weather, I might have saved myself from many a faux pas. Possibly, I could have avoided the display of those less than gracious attitudes and ego-stupid verbal responses that later shamed me, and the neglect of those personal responsibilities that I lived to deeply regret.
Kelly assures his readers that “life from the Center is a life of unhurried peace and power. It is simple. It is serene. . . . It is radiant. It takes no time, but it occupies all our time.” Kelly’s posthumous witness asks us, “Do you really want to live your lives, every moment of your lives, in His Presence? . . . Does every breath you draw breathe a prayer, a praise to Him? . . . Are our lives unshakeable, because we are clear down on bed rock, rooted and grounded in the love of God?” Brian Kolodiejchuk, M. M., edited with commentary, Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, The Private Writings of the “Saint of Calcutta” (New York: Doubleday, 2007). Mother Teresa, August 26, 1910—September 5, 1997. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 1. Quote is from a letter dated March 6, 1962. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa., xi. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 2. There is an affinity with the witness of the Apostle Paul about the Cross and ministry in 2 Corinthians. See 4:1-12; 5:13-15; 7:3; 12:1-10; 13:3-4. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 13-14. I date my call to ministry, however, back to the age of eight to ten. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 17-18. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 19. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 20. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 20. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 28. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 29. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 31. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 33. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 39-40, Quoted from Malcom Muggeridge, Something Beautiful for God (New York: Harper & Row, 1971), 85-86.. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 41: Her expressed aim for the new congregation. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 121-122. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 131. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresas, 134. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa,, 146. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa,149. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 156. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 163, in one of her regular reports to her archbishop. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, on February 28, 1957. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 170, on February 28, 1957. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 214. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 215-216, Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 220. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 248. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 255. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 255. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 270. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 294, see pages 291-293. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 315. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 333. Kolodiejchuk, Mother Teresa, 313. From a general letter by Mother Teresa to the Missionaies of.Charity. Sisters, January 31,1980. Thomas R. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion (HarperSanFrancisco, 1992/1941). Douglas V. Steere, ed., Quaker Spirituality: Selected Writings, The Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1884), 289, in his introductory words to the selections from Thomas Kelly. Douglas V. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir,” in Kelly, A Testament of Devotion, 104, an essay very helpful in this sketch of Kelly’s life. Rufus Jones was an outstanding Quaker teacher of Philosophy and influential writer in Quaker history and faith particularly concerned to challenge the Society of Friends to look at its roots in mystical religion. This was a new emphasis for young Kelly. So Richard M. Kelly, Thomas Kelly: A Biography (New York: Harper & Row Publishers, 1966), 25. Richard was the son of Thomas Kelly. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir,” 105. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 108. R. Kelly, Thomas Kelly: A Biography, 58, in a letter to Harold Peterson. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 109. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 110. Steere comments that this was “a trait that is peculiarly striking in the devotional essays” that compose A Testament of Devotion. A Quaker Center for Graduate Religious and Social Study at Wallingford, Pennsylvania. Here Kelly was able to renew his friendship with Rufus Jones Douglas Steere was head of the philosophy department with whom he felt considerable kinship due to some parallel interests. Explanation and Reality in the Philosophy of Emile Meyerson. Meyerson was French philosopher whose thought was in many ways similar to that of Whitehead. R. Kelly, Thomas Kelly: A Biography, 91. R. Kelly, Thomas Kelly: A Biography, 93. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 118. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 118.
Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 119. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 120. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 122. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 123. Thomas Kelly, “The Gathered Meeting,” The Friend (December 12, 1940), 205. Quoted from Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 123-124. Twenty five years later, Thomas’ son Richard M. Kelly, published a small volume of additional papers: The Eternal Promise (Richmond, Indiana: Friends United Press, 1988/1966). These two lectures grew directly out of his 1937 experience. Steere, “A Biographical Memoir, 126-127. T. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion, 93. T. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion, 93. T. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion, 100. T. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion, 95-96.
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