In case you haven't heard, the legendary entertainer Michael Jackson died recently. His legacy of music and philanthropy has been heralded far and wide alongside reminders of the accusations made against him in later years.
I have echoed the sentiments of "enough" in regard to the media coverage during these days. I even pledged to myself that I would NOT take part in the media spectacle that was his memorial service.
But...I did. I actually caught myself remembering his music. The music which was the soundtrack for my adolescent years. And I caught myself watching video of his performances. Most intriguing were the sound and images captured a couple of days before his death. I was enthralled to watch talent personified on my television screen. Even at the age of 50 - which is becoming younger and younger to me - and with reported physical maladies plaguing him, he was still the same MJ, commanding the stage and drawing people to himself. Oh, and I did watch parts of the memorial - it was a good thing.
Was Michael Jackson, as Barry Gordy stated "the best entertainer ever"? Possibly - at least in our generation, with the proliferation of media outlets in the last twenty years - MJ was the most transforming entertainer of our era. Was his talent from God? Absolutely. All talent, all creativity comes from our Creator. Was he controversial? No doubt about it. Was he guilty of accusations made against him? I don't know. Is he gone. Yes.
The events of the past days took my back some twenty years to the death of my step-mother. She often referred to herself as the devil, something most people took as a quip. Based on my experiences, she meant it. And for me, I felt like the target of her wrath. (Hindsight and maturity allows me to see love as the motivation of her heart. She loved me and I still love her.) But along the way, she was diagnosed with cancer which ultimately took her life.
The memory that comes rushing back as of late is that of my side of the family (excluding my Dad) riding from the funeral home to the country cemetery where she was to be buried. I sat in the back seat and listened as the woman we had been eulogizing and were about to bury was categorically raked over the coals. No mercy, grace, respect or compassion. Only venom.
My reaction was sudden and visceral. I blurted out very loudly: "The woman is dead. Can't we let her rest in peace?" Well, that certainly brought quiet to the car. Perhaps the comments about her were correct and just. Perhaps they were spoken in honor of truth winning the day. Regardless, they were lost on my ears and to my heart that day.
Looking back, I would like to think that the Holy Spirit of God was working in me...not to correct or rebuke others...but working in me to mourn and grieve a life which He cherished and loved..."in stubborn spite of her stubborn spite" (Andrew Peterson).
This is were I find my heart today. My oldest son sat beside me last night and asked me: "Daddy, do you like Michael Jackson?" My answer was that I respected his talent, his creativity and his love for others - all of which came from God. My son then asked: "Even though he wore make-up and acted weird." We then got to talk about the brokenness of people, especially those gifted with creativity. I believe he understood.
I know that the things that we don't understand, we mock, criticize, and shake our heads. I am not seeking to understand Michael Jackson. I wasn't trying to understand my step-mother after her death. But I did shed a tear for both of them. "For God so loved...that He gave."
