By James Towey | Guest Contributor

I approach Mother Teresa of Calcutta’s life as an observer, not as a biographer or theologian. I had the privilege to meet her in 1985 and follow her the last 12 years of her life. Luckily for me, she needed a lawyer to handle visa issues for her nuns from India, protect her name from commercial exploitation and help her navigate through the red tape of governmental bureaucracies as she opened homes for people with AIDS and others in need. It was the privilege of a lifetime to be in her company or travel with her during those years.

For some people, it is tempting to ascribe to Mother Teresa numerous ethereal qualities and make her out to be an angelic spirit instead of a person of passion, made of flesh and blood, like the rest of us. We Catholics turn our saints into plastic statues.  What struck me the most about Mother Teresa was how fully human she was. To me, that’s what made her a saint. 

Saints are saints because of consistently making good choices for God in the day-to-day drama of life. Mother was demonstrative proof that sanctity is rooted in things fully human and everything this life has to offer. Yes, she accomplished works that bordered on miraculous. How else did an obscure Albanian woman win the Nobel Peace Prize and become the most admired woman of the 20th century? But to truly appreciate who she was, you have to forget about her celebrity and persona and focus on the real person who walked among us. 

She was real. For starters, she never wanted any of the media attention that followed her. She didn’t fully understand the extent of her celebrity or care much about it. Once, when we were driving up to the Mid-South Coliseum in Memphis, Tennessee, for a special Sunday Mass, she saw the parking lot packed with cars and thought it was because all the people were excited about coming to Mass. She wasn’t fishing for a compliment. We all knew that they were coming to see her, but she didn’t. I remember thinking at the time how guileless her observation was. 

Mother didn’t read newspapers or watch TV, but she cared deeply about people. There are many religious folks who love God but don’t particularly love people. They are killjoys and give religion a bad name. She would have none of that. Mother was a spectacular mixture of seriousness and cheerfulness. She connected with the diverse people in her life and developed strong bonds of friendship that stretched across continents and for a lifetime, as displayed in the thousands of letters she handwrote each year.

She reserved her most special affection for the men and women who had given up home and family just as she did to join her in serving God and quenching his thirst for love.  The group of priests, sisters and brothers she established she named the Missionaries of Charity – affectionately known as the MC’s. 

At the time of her death, over 4,000 men and women had made the same commitment she made and taken vows of poverty, chastity, obedience and “wholehearted and free service to the poorest of the poor” (a vow unique to the MC’s). 

These men and women were her daughters and sons. I would drive her to convents in different cities, and when Mother would pull into the driveway, the Sisters would stream out with squeals of excitement, and Mother would grasp the face and head of each one and bless them. When she looked at them, she looked deeply into their eyes, like there was no one else on earth. 

Some nights I would drive her back to her convent after a day of meetings and talks. I would walk Mother to the door and there would be a line of Sisters waiting for one-on-one time with her.    She made time for them all – and their families, too. Their parents were royalty to Mother. She showered them with attention and never ceased thanking them for their sacrifices. 

Mother loved all aspects of life. She liked to sing, she wrote poetry, she enjoyed her sweets and delighted in a good laugh. She could get upset, but when she did, she tried not to take it out on others. When she was in business meetings, she was all business. She was a fearless decision-maker.  As one of the greatest social and religious entrepreneurs of all time, she built a worldwide missionary order operating in over 100 countries – all from scratch, all with the courageous help of her Sisters and priests, all without the assistance of a computer.

When the eyes of the world return to her on the day of her canonization on September 4th, they will see a woman who loved God and those he created in his image. Jesus was her all, Our Lady was her constant companion and St. Joseph her trusted intercessor. She lived life to the fullest and leaves us an example of how we, too, can do as she did – love one another as Jesus loves us.

That’s what makes a saint.

James Towey is the president and CEO of Ave Maria University in Florida and the former president of St. Vincent College in Latrobe, Pa. Towey formerly served as director of the White House Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives and as assistant to President George W. Bush.