The Power of Esme

For more about Esme go to Lux Aeterna;  also In Loving Memory of Esme Kenney

Journal writing is usually based on thought that is not refined. The words flow directly from the mind and heart. They are not contemplated beforehand, written carefully, or edited. It is possible then for the words to ring true like the shrill clanging of a bell. My journal states, “Esme commands a power that she herself probably did not realize she had.” Her story indeed commands a power, one involving the collision between a talented, kind, and gentle young girl who goes jogging along the woods near her home and a sinister man who then strangles her to death after attempting to rape her. But does Esme herself command a power today? If so, exactly what is this power and Esme’s role in its ability to cause powerful and ongoing effects in others?

I believe God’s love inhabited this young girl and can live on in the aftermath of her passing if we let it. We need a face to put on God who is unknown, according to Kierkegaard. In Esme’s face, words, manner, intentions, interactions with others, work, and art was the love of God. She responded to its presence quite naturally, without hesitation or examination. That is the power in question. It rings true like the shrill clanging of a bell.

Esme apparently had chosen to call it Christianity. Raised ecumenically Unitarian, she wore the symbol of Christianity around her neck, such as in the picture above. This means that she had personally chosen to identify with the suffering and triumph of Jesus.

I believe what Kierkegaard says, that one can transition from a life comprised primarily of aesthetic experiences through a time of ethical resolve in the recognition of the infinite and arrive at the religious, which is suffering. Esme was too young to know this third critical element. So I believe God allowed it to be given to her. She experienced the passion of suffering on a day otherwise filled with family and fun, including emailing, sunbathing, playing Frisbee, and then the jogging that cost Esme her life. She died because of who she was, an innocent girl living her life to the fullest…and able to be overpowered in the physical sense and brutally and painfully taken advantage of.

Now Esme is a saint proclaimed. Her life is a finished work. It is a triumph. We can examine our own lives through examining it. This I believe is Esme’s role, her ability to cause powerful and ongoing effects in others. The journal’s words continue. “You can sense this power as you read testimonies made by others about Esme. You can feel it when you study her pictures.”

And it is especially powerful because it now includes the critical element of suffering. The journal entry finishes, “And you can know (her power) when praying, now that she is most assuredly in God’s hands.” God allowed the suffering and death of an innocent son, so says the Scriptures, and has also allowed the same of an innocent daughter, Esme.

It may take a leap of faith that Esme has control of this power, but I believe she does in a way that involves a paradox. A paradox is contrary things that belong together in a state of creative tension. Esme died but is not dead. She lives on in a godly love called agape love. This love is selfless and giving. She exhibited it when alive. If the fully funded school in Myanmar is any indication, then she will continue to do so.

God loves this precious child, and God loves us too. So speak to Esme. She is listening. God’s love reaches out to us through her. When anything is going well in life, think of her joy. When anything is not going well, think of her pain. The power of Esme is experienced through identification with the triumph of her joy and love and the passion of her pain and suffering.

The saint with the cross around her neck