BRINGING SOME MEANING TO WHITNEY HOUSTON’S UNTIMELY END–A Tribute and A Challenge

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First and foremost this is far from a theological treatise on suffering or death.  Neither is it a judgment on what the condition the eternal soul of Whitney Houston was in this last Saturday, February 11, 2012 when she was found near death in a pool of her own bathwater.

And to those of you who would say such inane statements such as “it was just her time to go” I simply would say one word–nonsense.  Extreme nonsense. God did not “take her from us.” She departed this earth because of horrible complications from a seemingly wasted life. And lest you think I am being harsh, I surely am not. It could have easily been me. Or you.  I will share more about that later on.

However the manner in which she left this world does not mean we cannot or should not attempt to make some sense, both comforting and perhaps to some extent disturbing as well, in her very tragic demise. I think that there are lessons for each one of us to discover if we choose to. And I hope we do so with some searing and ferocious honesty.

The most eerily powerful lesson I can think of here is in the form of a question—“what does Hollywood and fame do to people in general and particularly to Christians who become superstars and their testimonies?”  I would not be the one to rant and rave about the evils of Tinsel town, nor do I think all Christians must avoid its glitter at any cost.  I do wonder, however, if we ever stop and think what it may be doing to our young sisters and brothers in Christ who, often pushed forward by parents who name Christ as their own, into “making a name for themselves.”

Whitney Houston started out as a Gospel singer. Few from this generation may even remember this. But her mother, Cissy Houston, who sang a combination of Gospel and secular, was well-known long before Whitney was. Whitney was 15 when she first released a secular hit song, singing backup for Chaka Khan on the original version of “I’m Every Woman.”  Without blame, I do have to wonder why a parent who knows something of the savage music industry would intentionally expose her daughter to that environment, and she did so regularly, taking her to night clubs as a young girl and even having her sing on stage with her.  That in fact was how she was eventually discovered.

The last thing I would do is to pick on the grieving older Ms. Houston now or later. In fact a link sharing her perspective is listed at the bottom of this post. But it has to have at least crossed her mind that her daughter might be alive today were it not for the surreal success she had at such a young age.  It would to me as a parent.

There is a long list of such juvenile-aged “Christian celebrities” who could be named here, and in each and every case whose parents might have at least monitored or slowed down the process but instead allowed a recording agent to begin controlling their child or children’s upbringing.  And it seldom ends well. Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson were both touted as “virgins to marriage” and have both gone on to lead very rough lives indeed. The Jonas Brothers singing group is probably one of the prime examples of a strongly evangelical Christian idyllic family where each of the boys even publicly wore chastity rings and often spoke glowingly of their faith in Christ.  Now Nick, the youngest, has publicly stated he “would not mind at all” doing nude scenes on Broadway if the opportunity presented itself, and Joe, on his first solo music video, in it lays shirtless in a bed while a young woman in panties straddles him.  It might be noted that the Jonas’s father is a former Assemblies of God minister and that the boys were home-schooled. Nick nevertheless did his first Broadway performance (presumably with clothes on!) at age 7.  It somehow strikes me as a form of schizophrenia on the part of parents who are aiming on one hand to protect their children from the “evils of the world” by homeschooling them, and then still allowing the youngest a taste of Broadway and beyond at such a tender age. Jon and Kate Gosselin, whose TLC (The Learning Channel) television series about their strongly Christian family (also Assemblies of God) while raising 8 children, were in fact divorced during production of the show.  And, for a Roman Catholic example, Charlotte Church is, well, not too “churchy” these days, having had a child while unmarried and living with her baby’s father, as well as openly calling Pope Benedict XVI a “Nazi.”  She once had sung for Blessed John Paul II at age 12.

My point is absolutely not to condemn or judge any one of these individuals or their culpability before God. But the danger of obtaining huge amounts of money and extreme constant boosts to one’s ego while lavishly partaking of this world and its goods eventually takes its toll. And in the cases I mentioned, families have been destroyed, as well as reputations.  And I have pointed out only a very few of the many such stories.

But then again it is not my fault, is it? I think perhaps some part of it is actually. When I support Miley Cyrus concerts or CDs after her own “Christian father” Billy Ray Cyrus allows her to pose topless at age 16, and then blames it on photographer Annie Leibovitz, who is undoubtedly provocative and pushy but who also  does not have final control over his minor child during any given photo shoot, is it any wonder why Miley might now be breaking away from the “straight and narrow?”  And she too indeed is doing so at age 19.

Oh and did I make Britney go wild?  No. But perhaps I eagerly read about it through my National Enquirer subscription and in some cases otherwise added to her publicity stunts by my enjoyment of the many entertainment gossip mongers.  Do I own the albums or support the television programs which added to the fall of so many of these very precious young people who were never taught to properly handle fame? Maybe not  individually so, but do I relish in a Jerry Springer type societal mentality which takes glee in the serious problems of our Hollywood counterparts?

We all do bear some responsibility here.  That is my point. We relish the bad in others, and pray little if at all for them.  Then we criticize and belittle them when they slip, instead of giving our hand to them whether personally or in prayer.

I will share a deeply delicate and rather private situation that bore much of this out to me rather chillingly a number of years ago.  I also wish to divulge this with much care, as I would not wish to glorify the many mistakes or sins in my own life.  When I was very much active in the LGBT lifestyle and community, I met someone one evening during one of my many visits to the local LGBT single’s bar, aptly named the “Gay Nineties.” He invited me to his beautiful condo in south Minneapolis, and I willingly decided to accompany him to his home that evening and night. Without much detail I will say only that this was a fairly common occurrence for me during those early years after my own Christian marriage had ended or more accurately failed due to my own weaknesses (1993 to be exact).

What I remember most about this young man, Carl was his name, was that, beneath the pleasant exterior and enjoyable conversation, a certain deep sadness was almost built into his eyes somehow.  He seemingly had everything; a great job, a gorgeous home decorated with expensive original art, and he was “easy on the eyes,” as they say.  In short he was a handsome and still youthful man in his 30s. We talked again a time or two later on, but nothing further ever occurred between us after that initial night. A year later, through some totally unrelated circumstances, I found out that he was near death due to HIV (AIDS).  When I had met him twelve short months before, he must have known then of his status, but had not told me about it. In his defense we were relatively “safe” in our activities, but we all know that no “protection” (President Obama please take note here as you seek to enable even more sexual recklessness in our society!) is perfect.  Just a couple of weeks later Carl died, and I was left wondering anxiously if I had a deadly virus in my body.  Thanks only to God, and certainly in spite of my stupidity and lust, after being tested and re-tested, I turned out to be HIV negative.  But to think that a young and vibrant man who I knew, was attracted to, and frankly had felt a bit rejected by in the end, had most likely known when he met me that there was no actual chance of anything permanent between us ever, was basically staggering to me. I believe he may well have been attempting in his own way to be merciful to me by not allowing me to get too close to him, and for that I will be ever thankful. But he was simply gone now, and it gave me pause in every way.

And Carl’s premature passing away may be the very reason I am here writing this today, because I did at least slow down and took drastically more care and caution after that event. So his death indeed, at least indirectly, has had some meaning to every person reading these words.  I only wish I had known about his situation—maybe I could have comforted his sadness and at least given him some hope if I had. I certainly would have at least tried to had I known.

How does all of this relate to Whitney Houston?  Quite simply that none of us are invincible. None of us are guaranteed the rest of today, much less tomorrow. And some, such as Whitney and Carl, will die before their time due to errors or sins within their own lives and bodies, or at least the consequences of those errors. Others of us, no less innocent, will be somehow spared and given an opportunity to do penance for both ourselves and those who have gone on before us.  And before I condemn Cissy Houston, the Jonas parents, or the Gosselins for that matter, I need to stop and realize that all of them—every one of them in fact— almost surely wanted in their hearts what they thought was best for their children, and might well have made different decisions if given the chance once more.

Lent is around the corner. It may be the last Lent I or you ever see on this earth. Will we waste it by attempting to live in the fast lane but hoping our brakes hold out when we hit the speed bumps? Or will we rather allow Whitney’s and Carl’s lives, and so many others who are in reality just like all of us, whose past, whatever it was, caught up with them, to have real and lasting meaning?

I read just yesterday that Whitney’s last public performance was Thursday of last week, and she sang the children’s song “Jesus Loves Me.”  So perhaps in her last days Whitney had come full circle to her Gospel music roots after all.  Rest in peace, and may a merciful God hold you tight, Whitney and Carl. Your lives—and deaths—were not in vain.

AND FINALLY…How I will remember Whitney…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFeLlY7oJNc

Almost as a kiss from God Himself, as I was uploading this link to YouTube, I had the Rosary website up at the same time, and as these words “I’m Every Woman” shot from my computer speakers, the words “Our Father who art in heaven” and “Hail Mary full of grace” poured out from those same speakers.  Whitney truly rest in peace, and in the arms of our Heavenly Father and Blessed Mother–the true “Every Woman.” God bless to all.

http://www.cnn.com/video/?hpt=us_mid#/video/bestoftv/2012/02/12/nr-whitney-houston-final-performance.cnn

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