Michael Jackson

So, the king of pop is dead. I wish I could say that I'm happy he is free of this Earth but I don't know if he is in a better place.

I've admired his music but, having been born in the 80s, I've long thought that Michael Jackson's persona was bizarre. I missed out on the child-star Michael and the early pop-star. My earliest memories of him are from the song, "Black or White". I remember the social commentary and comedians making light of Jackson's apparent skin disease (amongst other things like his weird lifestyle choices and his abnormal appearance as an outcome of his many plastic surgeries).

Anyway, I followed a link to a blog this morning and the writer had some excellent thoughts on Michael's life and decline. He wrote:

He was spiritually and psychologically raped at a very early age - and never recovered. Watching him change his race, his age, and almost his gender, you saw a tortured soul seeking what the rest of us take for granted: a normal life.

But he had no compass to find one; no real friends to support and advise him; and money and fame imprisoned him in the delusions of narcissism and self-indulgence. Of course, he bears responsibility for his bizarre life. But the damage done to him by his own family and then by all those motivated more by money and power than by faith and love was irreparable in the end. He died a while ago. He remained for so long a walking human shell.

I loved his music. His young voice was almost a miracle, his poise in retrospect eery, his joy, tempered by pain, often unbearably uplifting. He made the greatest music video of all time; and he made some of the greatest records of all time. He was everything our culture worships; and yet he was obviously desperately unhappy, tortured, afraid and alone.

I grieve for him; but I also grieve for the culture that created and destroyed him. That culture is ours' and it is a lethal and brutal one: with fame and celebrity as its core values, with money as its sole motive, it chewed this child up and spat him out.

I think Andrew Sullivan really hit the nail on the head: our society, worshipping and enabling extreme celebrity, led Michael to his downfall. Mark 8:36 says, "...what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his life [in the eternal kingdom of God]?" Michael was the King of Pop and yet he lived a life that was tortured, isolated, and incredibly broken. And now people are already arguing about what to do with his children.

I think that the time is coming for the church to rise up in society and model something different. Rather than isolating people, expecting perfection, and enabling celebrity, we should model honesty and family. We should reach out to the Michael Jacksons and draw them into love, love, love. Love enough to fill gaping holes in people's self-value. And love enduring enough to give hope and restoration to the (publicly) broken. Help us Heavenly Father!

poverty

We had an interesting discussion amongst the youth and young adult pastoral team yesterday. We're currently beginning our planning for Freshwind next year (our annual youth conference).
I put forward the idea of bringing someone to speak who serves the poor or runs a NPO because I feel like we need to partner the amazing love of Father God we've been given (and incredible Holy Spirit) with an OUTWARD expression - a re-action to what he has done for us.

This got me thinking about Heidi. Heidi Baker's ministry has been immensely popular (with good reason). She's an incredible speaker (but there are hoards of speakers) but I think it's her love for God AND her demonstrated love for people that is so attractive.

I guess there's a certain glamour in it all (living in the poorest country in Africa, struggling with danger and opposition, helping the poor, rescuing orphans) that we increasingly bored Western Christians find attractive. It's a life of passion where everyday a difference can be seen from Christ's impact on communities and people. At any rate, let's ask God how we can practically share his love. If we're the light of the world, we should shine and people should notice!

"We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty." -- Mother Theresa

brood

It's been a rough few days with only a few hours of sleep a night... the new puppy is still getting used to being home. I can't complain (because he's awesome) but it's giving me tons of respect for new parents (like Puddle!).

So, I was lying in bed last night and I felt the Father remind me of Luke 13:34

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!"

And I felt him say, "I want to brood over you, Andrew." I told him I was really, really willing... unsure but willing.

This morning, I looked up the word brood and I found a part of the definition that really hit home:

1 once the eggs are laid, the male broods them incubate, hatch.
VERB
2 [ trans. ] (of a bird) sit on (eggs) to hatch them.
3 [usu. foll. by over] (of silence, a storm, etc.) hang or hover closely : a winter storm broods over the lake.

and I realized he wants to incubate me... to create an environment, in his presence, for me to grow. It was immensely freeing to think of the Father as my incubator, my place of warmth and growth.

I also remembered Deut 32:10-12 (MSG)

[God] found him out in the wilderness, in an empty, windswept wasteland. He threw his arms around him, lavished attention on him, guarding him as the apple of his eye. He was like an eagle hovering over its nest, overshadowing its young, then spreading its wings, lifting them into the air, teaching them to fly. God alone led him.

Finally, this morning, it all came together in one of my favourite poems of all time, Gerard Manley Hopkins' poem, God’s Grandeur.

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Come brood over me Holy Spirit! I am really, really willing.

from "The Skeptical Hypochondriac"

A new study indicates that, for some undetermined reason, you’re about 28 percent less likely to get a divorce in the years after your city gets awarded a major league baseball team.

Link.

When I read this statistic to my wife, she asked, "who the heck does the research and comes up with all these statistics?" Any ideas?

Solomon

He comes home in two weeks!

megalomaniacal

megalomaniacal |-məˈnīəkəl| |ˈˈmɛg(ə)ləməˈnaɪəkəl| |-məˈnʌɪək(ə)l|
adjective
suffering delusions of one's own power or importance.

I'm realizing, more and more, that our mettle is tested under stress. Our good and our bad is shown when things are at their most difficult.

I think, if we all just admitted this truth, the world would be a much better place. I mentioned to someone this week that had been megalomaniacal and they were shocked: not at my comment but at the fact that I was pointing out their outrageous behaviour.

Let's face it, we all need work. Some of us just need more than others. ;-)

integrity

Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us. An inch. It is small and it is fragile and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us.

From one of my favourites.