Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson died this week.

His passing matters in different ways to different people, and in some way to most people. Responses to his tragic leaving are varied, too. Some of us feel shock, others vindication. Some sorrow, some pause, some nothing at all. Some feel angry.

Bill has just passed the eighty-years-old mark in his own life. He continues to live alone, unaided, maintaining his own home and yard. He drives himself to coffee and back. He's in relatively good health, and he's bitter that any one man should have such fanfare surrounding their death.

We're all gonna' die, you know. When it's your time to go, it's your time to go.

His tone is strident, bordering on rage.

I don't know what the big deal is about this guy. Lots and lots of people die and you never hear a thing about them and their g**d**n funerals.

He is an aging gentleman facing his own mortality and wondering why a man who sang a few songs should garner such praise and acclaim while the rest of us just slip away into the next life without more than a whispered acknowledgement.

He has a point. Michael Jackson is famous for his musical and performing genius. He's infamous for allegations of hurting children. His off-stage madness has earned him ~ and pop culture rags ~ notoriety and millions of dollars. Our unbridled curiosity has given the madness steady forward momentum. But on the other side of this life he is as we are: one person fully connecting with the One God. One magnificent, sinful, glorious, base, God-reflecting, wounded life standing toe-to-toe with Holy Love.

He receives the attention of millions at his passing because he impacted millions in his lifetime. You and I will impact many, many others, too ~ some in healing, supportive, and loving ways, others in harmful, unforgivable ways. When we go, the services held in our honor will be tiny compared to Michael's send-off. On this side of life, it will appear that his life was worth more than our own.

Bill feels that way. Maybe you do, too.

On the other side, who knows? I don't know what Bill will encounter there. I know that he dealt cruelly with his wife and daughters. I know that he is demanding in his old age as he was in his youth. I look at my own life, scales of judgment alternately swinging, loosely empty, or groaning beneath their staggering burdens.

Bill's life, mine, yours will not be considered as one more valuable than another. We are equally and passionately adored by our Creator. Did we acknowledge Jesus? Did we love well? Did we care for the poor, the fatherless, the broken? These are some of the qualities that will be measured ~ these, and the motives behind them.

Bill's frustration is understandable. Why should "some famous guy" get more attention than the man who has lived a hidden life well? In our culture, that trend isn't going to end. But Bill will get his all-eyes-on-him moment. It may not come with a golden coffin bedecked in red roses and surrounded by millions of mourners. It will certainly come with the One who made us giving Bill His full attention.

If I had words and opportunity, that would be something to tell Bill. There aren't many audiences that really matter. In fact, there are probably only two: Our God and the ones that He's asked us to love. Everything else is just clamour and fluff. So, while the living's still good, live for those two things. Find examples of secret-living integrity. Mirror that. Let the pomp and flash and noise of the famous entertain you; remember that behind that drama is a person much like you. A man or a woman who will be judged in the public eye, but ultimately measured ~ and cherished ~ in the eyes of God.