In the wake of the passing of one of the best vocalists of all time, I’ve made a decision.
I want us all to have a new relationship with celebrities.
It came to me in my quest to learn the details surrounding the death of Whitney Houston. As I surfed channel after channel looking for answers, I was repulsed by the tone of the coverage. Tired of countless photos and video footage of her with her ex-husband Bobby Brown at her worst. Indignant over the constant references to quite possibly the worst time of her life.
Even worse are some of the tweets and Facebook updates I’ve seen. One post remarked: “People are SURPRISED Whitney Houston is dead…REALLY?! She was a DRUG ADDICT!!” Others mocked her infamous “crack is whack” statement to Diane Sawyer in 2002.
Not that I ignored all the drama when it was going on … I saw it and it broke my heart then. But I never indulged and watched. I think I saw half of one episode of Bravo’s Being Bobby Brown. Do you wanna know why?
I was (am) a fan of Whitney Houston and admired her talent and gifts.
Plain and simple.
Never had an appetite to watch her struggle. It never gave me any pleasure to see coverage of what everyone is now calling “bizarre behavior.” I refused to buy a People magazine with a disheveled picture of Whitney on the cover. I long ago tuned out whenever negative coverage of any celebrity is pushed and pushed.
What is it about us — society — that enjoys watching another human being struggle and suffer? Especially if that human has lots of money.
We all make mistakes. We all have our vices. We all have profound flaws in our character.
I am grateful I don’t have to live mine out in front of the whole world. I also try to be gracious enough not to judge others for the worst thing they ever did in their lives. Over and over again.
We can stop this madness. We can vote with our remotes and stop supporting programming that takes advantage of the worst of the people we claim to love. We can stop buying the magazines. The paparazzi exist because of our collective demand.
After the 1997 death of Princess Diana, I opted out of madness. And it is 100 times worse now with all the new media.
Similar to Michael Jackson’s death in 2009, many of Whitney’s fans began mourning her demise years before her actual passing. But many of us also prayed that her story would have a happier ending. We knew her voice would never be the same, but we hoped that she would find the peace and wholeness that seemed to elude her.
Even as they entertain and inspire us, it’s important to remember that celebrities are people too — real people with struggles, sadness, pain. All the money and fame in the world cannot secure true peace. Princess Diana knew that. Michael Jackson knew that.
Whitney Houston knew that.
Maybe God allows some people to become famous not just so that they can entertain us but so that we can pray for them. Maybe they need our prayers just as much as our applause.
As fans get ready for the eagerly awaited Michael Jackson concert film, an African American pastor reconsiders the Black church’s dubious embrace of the King of Pop.
This week a new single by the late Michael Jackson arrived on the Internet, no doubt signaling the launch of a marketing blitz for This Is It, the forthcoming film documentary about Jackson’s ill-fated comeback concerts. Hearing the news of Jackson’s posthumous song and its curious lyrics, which include the line I’m the light of the world (see the video below), reminded me of the intense outpouring of grief, adoration, and praise that the singer’s death inspired this past summer.
A couple days after Jackson’s death, I watched the last hour of the BET Awards, a show I had never previously bothered to watch. Compared to what I have seen on other awards shows in the past, somewhat expectedly I found the BET show very much affected by the passing of Jackson. There were many tributes given to the King of Pop. They ranged from snippets of his music before commercial breaks, to words of tribute from the various artists and emcees on the program. Some of the tributes honored the enduring nature of his race-transcending music. Other tributes virtually deified him.
For example, the legendary Soul Train host, Don Cornelius, referred to the artist as the “immortal Michael Jackson.” To this my oldest daughter immediately retorted, “Well, I think this week we found out, clearly, that he was not immortal.” Yet many in the BET audience expressed agreement with Cornelius.
The artist Wyclef Jean, who received a humanitarian award, spoke of a long hoped-for meeting with Jackson. He said he had planned his words for this exciting meeting, but “when [Jackson] showed up, I shook his hand and lost my voice completely. That is the effect this man had on people.”
Other artists remarked that “[Jackson] meant so much to us and to the whole world,” and that he was “often imitated but never duplicated.” One artist referred to him as “a musical deity.” Never mind those suspicions surrounding children, the dangling of the baby out of the window, the constant changing of his facial appearance, and Jackson’s other self-destructive behavior; Jackson was an entertainment god.
There was a very odd moment in the television program when one of the members of the O’Jays used some very foul language while honoring Michael. The award show’s technicians attempted to mute the word, but were about a half-second too late, so the entire listening TV audience heard the word. The foible produced roaring laughter among the audience and some momentary blushing on the part of the entertainer who made the mistake. I was wondering if anyone had noticed that only a few moments before, when the O’Jays stepped on stage to receive an award for lifetime achievement, two of the men began with words of praise like, “I would like to give honor to God, to whom be all the power and glory,” and “First, we would like to thank God for all the blessings bestowed upon the O’Jays.” The member who slipped with the curse word ended the acceptance speech with “God Bless …”
I guess Michael can be honored while foul language is used, and this can happen to the praise of God. This is not simply gray. This is where you wish you had not made the switch from analog to digital.
“Syncretism” is a fancy word used to describe the blending of different, and often incompatible, systems of religious and philosophical belief. The syncretistic practice of Christianity within the traditional African American church is well known, and in some settings cherished. The line between Christianity and secular African American culture is not blurred; it does not exist.
On the positive side, some sociologists and historians have suggested that, historically, this is due to the inseparability of the slave church and slave culture. African American slaves were able to survive the brutality of antebellum slavery due to their Christian faith, and the slave church was the rallying and unifying point of the slave community.
Negatively, however, the gray matter of African American Christianity is most evident in the democratic process of presidential elections. Consequently, last November the thinking probably went something like this: My Christian position on the life of the unborn and the biblical teaching on marriage have no place in my decision-making when it comes to the election of a President. He is African American, I am African American; nothing else matters.
The blurred nature of what is distinctively Christian and what is African American is commonly displayed at our national, non-Christian music and video award shows. It would be typical for an African American artist, who is receiving an award for a song or video full of lyrics and/or scenes completely contrary to the moral standards of the gospel, to receive the award with the words, “First, I would like to thank my Lord Jesus Christ for …” giving something related to the talent of the singer or the award itself. The thanksgiving, though obviously hypocritical, is received with great acclamation, seemingly without the hosts or audience being put off by the references to the Lord among the secular throng.
I think, however, the telltale sign of African American Christian syncretism was revealed at the BET award show in a different manner. The vast majority of artists did not mention God at all. Instead, where you might have expected thanks to be given to God, thanks was given to Michael Jackson. It is not that Jackson was being thanked for empowering the artists, but simply that a great amount of the thanks being given at this year’s show was given to Michael. Thanks to the King of Kings was eclipsed by thanks to the King of Pop.
Christianizing an Idol
I can only imagine how many words of honor were given to Michael Jackson from African American pulpits on the Sunday after his death. It would be my hope that Michael’s death would have provided many opportunities for African American pastors to point out the errors of the Jehovah’s Witnesses. For Michael, along with the artist once again known as Prince, are the Watchtower’s two most well-known members, both are African American, and the Witnesses love to prey on African Americans.
Many African Americans equate the Jehovah’s Witnesses with a Christian denomination. Christ’s name would be honored by pointing out that Michael’s hopes did not rest on God the Son, and that there are many like him within the African American community who are in need of the message about God the Son coming into the world to save people from the wrath of God due to their sins. I suspect, however, that much praise was given in the name of the Lord for Michael Jackson. Prayers might even have been offered from pulpits for the comfort — rather than salvation — of Jackson’s family members, who also are Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Unsubstantiated rumors that Jackson had converted to Islam made the rounds but were never confirmed. And another big rumor speculating that Jackson had accepted Christ days before his death, during a visit from Andrae and Sandra Crouch, was immediately squashed by the Crouches. But many people tried to keep it alive as truth anyway — no doubt a reflection of their desire to “Christianize” their late idol.
Many African American churchgoers are fine with Christianity as long as we, as African Americans, can bring our cultural gods with us. We see no problem with our secular artists, their words or their behavior, as long as our fellow church members see God’s blessings as being consistent with our entertainers’ debauchery.
I’m still hoping that the untimely death of Michael Jackson will help awaken the Black church out of its syncretism — that we will view the lives of entertainers with discernment rather than with bliss, and give worship to the King of Kings alone. Only one King is immortal, and He is to be worshiped. This should not be a gray matter. This should be a no-brainer.
An earlier version of this article originally appeared at Rev. Eric C. Redmond’s blog, A Man From Issachar.
Celebrities go to great lengths to obtain the children of their dreams. Singer Céline Dion recently announced that she’s pregnant with her second child through in vitro fertilization. Madonna and Angelina Jolie can’t seem to visit Africa or Asia without leaving with a kid. Then there was Michael Jackson, whose children’s mysterious origins continue to be the topic of endless speculation.
Whether their intentions are noble or egotistical, the rich and famous like to cross the lines of race, gender, and biology to get the children they want. But what if they could actually design and create a baby exactly the way they wanted? It’s a scary thought, but one that may soon become a reality.
Ever since Chris Brown’s taped apology was released on Monday, people have been questioning whether or not he deserves the public’s forgiveness? Call me crazy, but I forgave Chris Brown for beating then-girlfriend and fellow R&B singer Rihanna nearly six months ago when the story of his violence first made headlines. While most of the media raked him over the coals for his actions, culminating in a series of domestic violence shows on Oprah, my heart softened for the boy who became the poster child for teen violence.
Are we living in the golden age of racial debates? Every week seems to bring some new wrinkle in the national conversation about race, class, and ethnicity. And with the emergence of social media, we can now engage in these conversations with ever-greater frequency and intensity.