There is in some denominations of Christianity (Catholic among them) a Latin phrase in persona Christi. It refers to, among other things, the requirement that all priests be male in the spirit of following Christ’s life and person as much as possible. This doctrine is also one principle reason for piety, for charity, for humility, for wisdom … for all those things we wish our leaders (secular or sacred), and indeed our citizens to be.

In practice, there is another aspect of this phrase that reflects another interpretation, and one that is less religiously based and more emotionally so. It deals with the physical presence of that person who is acting as an agent of God and must have all those qualities (with patience, to boot) in any interpersonal dealing, some of which can be trying, at best. The priest can be considered a physical manifestation of God … a real-time, tangible person, and a source for much consolation, happiness and wisdom.

There exists in most denominations of Christianity much symbolism regarding sheep and lambs. They range from the parable of the shepherd with a flock of 100 who loses one and is overjoyed to find the last sheep to the idea of humans as lambs of God to Christ as the sacrificial lamb. Also included therein is the safeguard against the tenth plague against the Egyptians; to safeguard from the angel of death, Jewish people put the blood of a lamb on their door jambs. Upon seeing the blood, the angel knew the household was in a covenant with God and passed over their house, saving their firstborn from death. Most Christian denominations also eat lamb in their Easter meal, again symbolic of Jesus as the Paschal (Passover and Easter) lamb, the sacrificial lamb and the lamb (most precious, to many) of God. More overtly, the lamb is an animal with white fur; it is seem by most as an innocent, precious, beautiful being, a dutiful follower.

The relevance of all this to a Wiccan woman might be lost to some … until you know that her name is (was? Her name remains the same after her death) Cristi Lamb. The similarity begins there and ends much later.

Her humility and wisdom remain, as they were, unchallenged. While her desire was to be more factually informed, her knowledge about life, about people, about surviving, about love … none of this was lacking. The strength she knew in knowing her own weaknesses cannot be underemphasized; when she needed help, she sought it and got it. She did not contain her emotions to herself because she knew what was there for her and for others. The knowledge she had was not trivia but advice, a distinction often lost to those who, like her, contained not encyclopedias of dates and facts so much as suggestions, love, help, comfort and beauty.

Her similarity to a lamb is less obvious but equally important. Beyond the connection in name is her value to her friends and loved ones. We knew before she died how important she was to her immediate family; she knew some of how cherished she was by her friends. Now, in the wake of her sudden (still difficult to grasp, for some) death, we see how much she was cherished by those, many of whom might have surprised her. Her own estimation of her worth to us would be grossly under what we now see in printed word, what we now feel in what cannot be expressed, and what we know both inside our hearts and in how we feel now. That she was a beautiful person physically and otherwise has not been in doubt now since her mother first laid eyes on her almost 37 years ago, and as she has grown and matured in any way so has her beauty. Her radiance, in appearance, in act and in aid, is as evident as is the mark she leaves in our lives. Her smile will forever shine in our hearts, her hair eternally burn the fire of her memory living in us, and her confidence in us forever help us confront those trials we encounter from this day on without her by our side, but with her in our hearts.

I met Cristi in person January 4, 2002. I had been eagerly anticipating meeting her but thought she might not share that zeal. She, I later found out, was eager to meet me but wasn’t sure if I would be eager to meet her (our confidence in her outstripped hers in herself). The smile on her face when I told her who I was outshone anything else in that room (mine has never been known to light rooms as hers did). She emanated that day and others a beauty, grace, ardent outlook on life and love for others that many will try to follow and few will truly emulate.

My other lasting memory of spending time with her occurred a few months later in Chicago. She and Patrick (Eutychus) and I had taken the subway back from the aquarium. Patrick and I, having just met, seemed kindred spirits; feeding off each other in joking about the names of subway stations (and anything else), she said we reminded her of her young children. I took it as a compliment, but I’m not sure she meant it as one!

When we got back to the hotel I was heavily dehydrated and she and Patrick were as well. I saw in her, talking about our struggles with confidence and anxiety in social encounters, a woman who cared as much about me as my own mother. Even apart from her children for the weekend she did not drop her role as such. Before and since that day, her concern for me and my life, even as her own took turns that presented formidable obstacles to her, failed none.

Linda Lee, in her book “Bruce Lee: The Man Only I Knew”, noted that at the time of her husband’s sudden, unexpected death, many people were eager to discover how he died. She preferred to remember how he lived. In the wake of a death so similar, I take that road. When the cause is determined, we will know. We know now as we did years ago how she lived, and we remember and love her as she lived.