Elizabeth

Elizabeth Edwards died today. I liked her. I knew her only as a celebrity, a public person, which is to say, I knew her superficially. Yet, I liked her. She had a resolve and practicality and, may I say a trust in doing the right thing because it was right. I noticed in Christian blogs after her death, her faith or what people claimed lack of faith were subjects of judgment on her salvation or afterlife. Sad. Sometimes, Christians embarrass me. Maybe, I embarrass them as well. Read a decent link here. 

 

Mrs. Edwards had a child die, a persistent cancer and a husband who cheated on her in the most public way. I doubt I will have such trials. People were upset that she did not believe in a God who intervened in life and she stated that trying to earn an afterlife ticket by doing good things was to have our priorities mixed up. She spent time trying to make sense of her world without simply walking away from it. She was not a saint but she invested in living life as the most fragile of human. Just like me.   

 

I believe in a God who intervenes but, I must say, I am not sure how, why or when. I believe that I am building a life that is meant to last beyond this life. I believe Gods grace is bigger than my judgment. I believe our pain pains God. I believe my theology is not now nor will it ever be air-tight. When I see God face-to-face, it will no longer matter.

 

Jesus tells me to look at the fruit of a life and not the Oz-like projections we all put out. People of faith killed him. He forgave them. I believe God cares more about losing us than God cares about whether or not he is getting enough polished apples from us or recognition from us. I believe God is more mysterious than I wish but I will live with that and ask God to make up what is amiss in my theology and faith.

 

I believe God likes Elizabeth Edwards along with any faults she might have had in her theology and any gaps that opened in her faith. I believe tonight God calls her "daughter" and tells her "It was rough. It's over now." "The fruit of your life often was luscious at times it could have been bitter." "Welcome home."

 

Thank you, Elizabeth.