Rachel's Words--Remembering Rachel Held Evans: Thursday's Reflection

Too soon. The writer Rachel Held Evans, died last week at the age of 37 from brain swelling. Along with her husband, who must be in deep grief as he tends their young children, ages one and three, who must wonder where Mommy is, hundred of thousands of her readers mourn her loss. 

I've never met Rachel or even heard her speak, but I feel as if I know her and can call her by her first name because I have read her blogs, seen her comments on other people's blogs and am familiar with her books, especially Searching for Sundays Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church. 

That title fits parts of my journey over the years and while our experience was not the same (She was raised in the South as an Evangelical Christian. I am a genetic Lutheran --and for a short time, an Episcopalian.) I felt her pain about so many of the same issues--the role of women in the church, for example, the literal way of reading scripture, LGBTQ issues and others. 

After learning of her death I paged through my copy of Searching for Sunday. These quotations will give you a flavor of why I resonate with her.
                 ...I realized that just as I sat in church with my
                 doubt, there were those sitting in church with 
                 their sexuality, their race, their gender, their depression, 
                 their addiction, their questions, their fears, their
                 past, their infertility, their eating disorder, their
                 diagnosis, their missed rent, their mess of a marriage,
                 their sins, their shame --all the things that follow us
                 to church on Sunday morning, but we dare not 
                 name. p. 61

                 Whenever we show others the goodness of God,
                  whenever we follow our Teacher by imitating his
                  posture of humble and ready service, our actions are 
                  sacred and ministerial. To be called into the priesthood,
                  as all of us are, is to be called to a life of presence,
                  of kindness. p. 116

Rachel was a wise woman, but she also had the wisdom to call upon other wise women and reading this book is like sitting in a circle with other women I love. In this book you share a glass of wine with Barbara Brown Taylor: ("To be a priest is to know that things are not as they should be and yet to care for them the way they are."p. 117), Madeleine L'Engle ("the great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been."p.179), Nora Gallagher, Sara Miles, and Lauren Winner. 

As I mentioned in Tuesday's post, our granddaughter Maren was confirmed on Sunday, and as I reacquainted myself with Searching for Sunday I discovered two references that seem especially relevant. In the first Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us that Jesus gave things for his disciples to do--not just to think about. At the Last Supper he said, "'Do this'--not believe this, but do this-'in remembrance of me.'" At Maren's confirmation service Katie LeClair, the director of youth and family ministries, reminded us of Jesus words, "Follow me." Not just put up your feet and wonder what is going to happen next.

The other reference is a story shared by Lauren Winner about a pastor responding to his daughter who was not sure she believed everything she was supposed to believe, or so she thought, before being confirmed. He said, "What you promise when you are confirmed is not that you will believe this forever. What you promise when you are confirmed is that this is the story you will wrestle with forever."

Rachel Held Evans was a wrestler. 

I am so sad there will not be more books by this "prophet of the pen," as a USA Today writer called her or as a writer in The Atlantic called her, "the writer who sat by the church door," but tucked away on my "to be read" shelves is her book Inspired, Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again. I look forward to this time with Rachel.

But oh, too soon we say goodbye. 

An Invitation
Who has left life, but remains in your heart too soon? I would love to know.