In the heart of Vilnius (Lithuania), at 35 Šv. Stepono St., the Missionaries of Charity run a modest but essential soup kitchen. Three times a week, the doors open to welcome the homeless and hungry, offering them not just a meal, but a moment of dignity. For years, I have been inviting my friends to collaborate with me in this work of service. Some accept with enthusiasm, while others hesitate, often raising an eyebrow when they learn that the center is run by the order founded by Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

Her name, once synonymous with saintly compassion, has in recent decades become the subject of intense scrutiny. Her critics, most notably Christopher Hitchens in "Hell 's Angel" (1994) and "The Missionary Position" (1995), accuse her of embezzling funds, providing substandard medical care, and glorifying suffering rather than alleviating it. The weight of these accusations, amplified by modern media, has shaped public perception, leading some to question the integrity of her mission.

However, a closer examination reveals a more complex reality. While Mother Teresa was not without flaws, reducing her entire legacy to a list of accusations risks overlooking the profound impact she and her community have had on millions of people. The Missionaries of Charity continue their work in some of the most destitute areas of the world, often without fanfare and in conditions that few would endure.

This article is not written out of blind admiration, but out of a commitment to truth. To what extent does the critique hold up, and does it justify the skepticism that now surrounds her name? In exploring these questions, we also acknowledge the thousands of sisters carrying out their mission today, including those in Vilnius, Lithuania, whose daily work quietly challenges the narrative of mere controversy.

A key misunderstanding is the belief that Mother Teresa ran hospitals. The Missionaries of Charity, the order she founded, do not run hospitals, but rather homes for the dying, soup kitchens, dispensaries, orphanages and centers for the homeless, disabled and disaster victims. The distinction is crucial. Hospitals focus on curative treatment, while hospices offer comfort and dignity to the dying. As established by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, hospice care is for those with terminal illnesses whose doctors believe they have six months or less to live.

When Mother Teresa opened her first hospice in 1952, modern palliative care did not yet exist. The first modern hospice (which included palliative care) was not founded until 1967 by British nurse Cicely Saunders. The very term "palliative care" was not coined until 1974, and the WHO Three-Step Analgesic Ladderwhich standardized pain management, was not introduced until 1986, 34 years after Mother Teresa had begun her work.

Mother Teresa's work must be understood in the context of post-independence India, which was suffering from the devastating effects of civil partition, economic collapse and widespread poverty. Calcutta was facing severe economic decline, with major industries shutting down, resulting in mass unemployment and homelessness. Many of the dying he cared for had already been turned away by the hospitals.

Former Mother Superior of the Missionaries of Charity, Sister Mary Prema Pierick, clarifies the matter by saying, "Mother never had hospitals; we have homes for those who are not accepted in the hospital...The focus of the sisters and volunteers is on feeding and bandaging, because many arrive with wounds."

Far from running "medical prisons," Mother Teresa provided care when no one else would. Her mission was never to cure disease, but to assure the abandoned and dying of dignity, love and comfort in their last moments. To evaluate her work by today's standards is an anachronism.

Hitchens' assertion that Mother Teresa's facilities were unhygienic and prison-like ignores the historical context of post-independence India. Calcutta, especially in the 1970s and 1980s, was facing severe economic hardship, exacerbated by the partition of 1947, which left millions displaced. As foreign correspondent Mary Anne Weaver observed, the city had one of the lowest urban living standards in the world, with more than 70 % of the population living in poverty. Families survived on a mere $34 a month, while 200,000 beggars struggled for space on the sidewalks alongside 20,000 hand-pulled rickshaws. 

Hospitals in the region often refused to admit the homeless, leaving them with nowhere to go. Mother Teresa's homes offered an alternative: a place where people could receive food, shelter and dignity. That they were not modern medical institutions is irrelevant; they were never intended to be.

A common accusation is that Mother Teresa deliberately withheld painkillers from the dying to make them suffer. This claim originated with Hitchens presenting an article by Dr. Robin Fox in The Lancet, in which he noted the lack of strong painkillers in their homes. However, Fox also praised the Missionaries of Charity for their open-door policy, hygiene and compassionate care. He acknowledged that many patients were previously turned away by hospitals.

Fox did not claim that pain relief was deliberately denied, but that potent analgesics were not available. The reasons were systemic. The Indian government had gradually tightened its opium laws after independence (1947), restricting opium for general and quasi-medical use. Beginning with the All India Opium Conference of 1949, there was a rapid suppression of opium between 1948 and 1951 under the Dangerous Drugs Act (1930) and the Drugs and Cosmetics Act (1940). In 1959, the sale of opium was totally banned except for scientific or medical use. Subsequently, the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances Act (1985) severely restricted the use of opiates, even for medical purposes. Morphine and similar painkillers were in short supply, even in hospitals. 

Medical professionals responding to Fox's critique in The Lancet stressed that pain relief options in India were limited due to a lack of doctors and nurses trained in palliative care, government restrictions on opioid distribution, and few available alternatives for pain management.

Far from being sadistic, Mother Teresa and her nuns did what they could with the resources at their disposal. The use of weaker painkillers, such as paracetamol, belies the idea that the suffering was intentionally prolonged.

Hitchens frequently quotes a quotation attributed to Mother Teresa: "I think it is very beautiful for the poor to accept their lot, to share it with the passion of Christ." This, he argues, proves that she glorified suffering. However, Catholic theology on suffering is often misunderstood.

The concept of redemptive suffering holds that pain, when united with the suffering of Christ, can have spiritual merit. However, this does not mean that suffering should be sought or inflicted. The Missionaries of Charity dedicate their lives to alleviating suffering by offering food, shelter and care to the abandoned. If Mother Teresa believed that suffering should be endured without relief, why did she administer painkillers in their homes?

Sister Mary Prema Peierick further clarified this matter: "Mother never wanted a person to suffer for the sake of suffering. On the contrary, Mother did everything possible to alleviate their suffering." The idea that she withheld relief from pain in order to intensify suffering is a distortion of her beliefs and her work.

Another accusation is that, while the poor in her care received substandard treatment, Mother Teresa herself sought first-class medical care. This claim does not hold water.

Navin B. Chawla, her biographer and former Chief Election Commissioner of India, recalls that when she fell ill in 1994, she was hospitalized in a public facility in Delhi. Far from seeking elite care, she resisted hospitalization. Doctors were hesitant to treat her for fear of being held responsible if she died under their care. World leaders offered her treatment abroad, but she refused.

Sunita Kumar, her lifelong companion, corroborates this. When doctors from New York and San Diego visited her to check on her, it was of her own free will. She was reluctant to accept medical interventions and only did so when pressured by her environment.

Dr. Patricia Aubanel, who cared for Mother Teresa in her later years, described her as "the worst patient I ever had" because she did not like to rest and resisted medical treatment. On one occasion, she refused to use a ventilator until she was convinced by appealing to her devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe.

If she were truly a hypocrite seeking fancy medical treatments, she would not have resisted hospitalization and advanced care as fiercely as she did.

Hitchens' criticisms are based on selective evidence and sensationalist interpretations. It ignores the broader context, India's economic struggles, antiquated health infrastructure and government restrictions. His arguments are based on the application of contemporary Western medical standards to an impoverished, post-colonial city.

Mother Teresa's work was never about providing high-tech medical care, but about making sure that the abandoned and dying were not left alone on the streets. Her homes were not hospitals, nor were they intended to be. He did not seek to make people suffer, nor did he deny them pain relief when it was available. The idea that she lived in hypocrisy is refuted by those who worked closely with her.

In a world where ideology can shape narratives, it is vital to separate fact from fiction. Mother Teresa's legacy should not be judged by the cynical distortions of her critics, but by the countless lives she touched. Her mission, at its core, was one of love, compassion and service, principles that remain unwavering in the face of criticism.