When Kings Die

I had never felt so sleepy. We had only been in Germany for a few days and I was still trying to recover from jet lag. My mom and dad were enjoying catching up on 6 months worth of news and Dad was eager for Mom to fill him in on all that I had been doing while we stayed with Grandma in Mississippi waiting for quarters to become available so that we could join him in Europe. The radio was tuned to the Armed Forces Network (AFN) and the program was cranking out oldies from the '50's. Suddenly, the music stopped and an announcer's voice woke me up and broke news that just didn't seem possible. He said, "Ladies and Gentleman, The King is dead! Elvis Presley died today of undetermined causes in his Memphis home of Graceland. We are interrupting all programming to bring you exclusives on the life and times of Elvis Aaron Presley."

And so it all began. There were precious archival interviews with Elvis that had been conducted when he had been stationed near our location as a soldier in Germany with the 3rd Armored Division. There were on the street interviews with Germans who had known Elvis, special reports from the States, Wolfman Jack specials, etc. EVERYONE seemed touched by this unexpected passing of an American Original. Elvis, The King of Rock and Roll, was dead and even in far away Deutschland his music and persona had touched millions.

Eerily, I was reflecting on that time earlier this morning as I painted our front porch and listened to some old Elvis standards, including his MAGNIFICENT southern Gospel arrangements. (If you think his Rock and Roll is awesome, you should hear his Gospel tunes - WOW!) I thought about how much he had to offer and did offer, yet how much he failed to accomplish due to his inability to really find any anchor of normalcy in his life. As I was pondering his demise, the one pop icon who approached his stature came to mind and I thought, "Well at least Michael has more time. Perhaps he can redeem his last troubled years." Of course I didn't realize then that Michael Jackson only had hours remaining at the moment I expressed my thoughts.

A few hours later, I turned on the TV thinking I was gong to catch up on other news which included Farrah Faucett's death from cancer, which had been expected. The screen suddenly lit up with breaking news banners that seemed too spectacular to fit the "normal" range of "breaking news." The words were hauntingly familiar, and the name attached was simply shocking. "Ladies and gentleman, The King is Dead! Michael Jackson has died of what appears to be a heart attack at the age of 50. The King of Pop is no more!" I felt the same level of disbelief I had felt some 32 tears earlier. This time, instead of listening to my dad recalling the Elvis's budding career, Luz and I began recalling when we first heard the Jackson 5, tracing their careers and Michael's solo emergence. This was amazing considering that we were discussing his impact on us from the perspectives of two different continents! Luz even recalled how during her last trip home to the Philippines just a few years ago, MJ's presence was the major factor to consider in planning local transportation, public events and intra-island travel! With thousands of miles of ocean between us, The King of Pop had been a major influence on our cultural identities and our remembrances of our growing up years.

After such reflection, the question arises, what does the death of such a famous person really mean in the Grand Scheme? Why does the passing of someone we really didn't know touch us so personally and so deeply? One explanatory comment I made in responding to a friend via IM's who expressed his own surprise at how the Michael Jackson's death had affected him was this, "You can't hear someones voice for [30 years] without their passing touching you!" All of us who enjoyed Michael's music can attach specific memories to it. In elementary school, there were incessant arguments about who was better, The Osmond's or The Jackson 5? In Junior High and High School, Michael's solo career began to emerge with Off the Wall which fueled the "disco infernos" for countless school dances, picnics and gatherings. Thriller took everything to another level during college and early adulthood and the rest is History.

These memories are sweet. Nevertheless, as with everything in my life, I find it necessary to glean some spiritual truth from the nostalgia. We all should take note that MJ's life demonstrates a too oft told tale of extreme fame and riches failing to bring ultimate happiness and peace. Even with a large family behind him, it does not appear that Michael ever found peace for his heart or rest for his soul. With all the joyful, carefree memories his music brings for many of us, it is a tragedy that he never found that kind of carefree enjoyment for himself, but rather lived a stress-filled life filled with pain, controversy and an unfulfilled quest for personal peace and contentment. In many ways, having achieved everything anyone could want, he possessed nothing we all ultimately desire. His shocking death serves as another jolting reminder that the basic aspects of human existence are common to us all. As John F. Kennedy stated in his commencement address to Washington University in 1963, "...[I]n the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal."

When "Kings" die, their passages serve as reminders that no matter how great or small, we are all given a limited amount of time to make good use of the gifts, talents and intellects that the Heavenly Father has bestowed upon us. Ephesians 5:15-17 puts it like this:

Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is.

With all of the accomplishments of the two Kings of our musical heritage, it is a shame that there is an almost universal understanding that somehow for all they accomplished, they still fell short of their intended purposes.

As we remember the good times they brought us, let us also remember the difficulties they suffered and the mistakes they made. Let us display godly wisdom as we live our lives and let their struggles and failures serve as warnings and motivators for us to make the most of every opportunity to do good and glorify of Father in Heaven. It is the one sure fire way we can each make sure that their lives and ours shall not have been lived in vain. Remembering the kings, Farrah and Ed with deepest respect - until next time...

Sam

Why?

Bob Priest, a professor at the Seminary from which I graduated, served as a missionary in an extremely remote part of the Peruvian Jungle among a tribal people group known as the Aguarunas. As Bob spent time learning the ways of the Aguarunas and built a foundation of friendship and understanding upon which he hoped to share the Good News about Jesus Christ, he would often find himself immersed in deep philosophical and theological conversations that would keep pace with any university setting on the planet. When he asked for the ultimate question the Aguarunas had about the nature of life, truth and beauty, the response he received struck him in its universality among all people. Those with whom he was speaking answered his philosophical probe with this question:

"Why do the wicked flourish as the Green Bay Tree and the good die young?"

It was a question for which there is no quick answer and one that led to hours and hours of discussion and that eventually opened the door for Bob to share the Message of hope about Jesus.

I heard this account almost 20 years ago, yet this week, after the sudden and incomprehensible deaths of two friends and the nationally reported murder of someone who shares my profession during a Sunday morning worship service, I find myself asking a similar question, "why do the wicked seem to flourish unscathed, while the good suffer and die?"

About 2 weeks ago LTC Jeff White, a West Point classmate of mine and about as robust, fit and energetic specimen of a man as one could ever find, had been stateside for about a month just having returned from an 18 month tour of duty in Iraq. While singing in the choir during a Sunday service at his home church, Jeff collapsed and died of a massive heart attack. A good man, dedicated to his God, family and country and dedicated to selfless service that consistently put him in harm's way, died in the prime of life of a cause one generally attributes to someone much less fit and much much older. He was only 46.

Just this week, Paul Sorce, a very dear friend since my arrival in Detroit, and a top-notch Special Agent serving with the Federal Bureau of Investigation was on duty and traveling on a local road about half a mile from where we live, when he was struck by another vehicle and inflicted with injuries that led to his death a few hours later. Paul was an extraordinarily devoted family man, a tireless community volunteer, and a dedicated brother in the Lord. Yet, with all of the attributes we would like to think guarantee a long life and personal prosperity, Paul was cut down at the height of his powers all too soon at the age of 44.

And then there's the murder of Pastor Fred Winters, who in the middle of his sermon, was interrupted by a man who stood up during the message and for what by all accounts appears to be no particular reason, shot Pastor Winters on the spot, killing him. After 20 years of faithful service to the Lord, his family, his church and his community, Fred Winters was silenced abruptly at the age of 45.

Practically everyone knows of tragedies like these, severe in their degree and shocking in their impact that cause us to ask much like the Aguaruna of Peru, "Why indeed do the wicked flourish and the good die young?" The answer I have is not profound, but it is simple: "I don't know." Yet, there are some things I do know and about which I am very certain. While I cannot tell you why these wonderful men died "before their time" or why it seems bad things happen to very good people, I address a much more important issue for you, which is why these men lived.

Two passages of Scripture come to my mind at times like these. The first passage is from the Apostle Paul's letter to the Philippians and says this:

"For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Philippians 1:21).

These Brothers all lived for Christ and lived for others by putting themselves at risk time and time again and by throwing themselves vigorously into opportunities to serve others whether in a neighborhood sporting ministry, in ministries that strengthened of families or in being available to answer a cry for help in the wee hours of the morning. These men all realized that their lives were not truly their own, and that they were stewards of gifts, talents, abilities and moments that were God-given and for which they felt duty-bound to direct toward the benefit of others. These wonderful people never lived life as if it was all about them. They lived in the full knowledge that they had been given so much because their gifts desperately needed to be shared with others. Their lives were lived for Jesus Christ in obedience to Him, for His glory, and for the benefit and blessing of others.

Yet they died. It is in their deaths, however, though painful, devastating and untimely for those who love them and are left behind, that they have gained an amazing reward. It is this reward that reminds me of the strains of a glorious hymn of old based on more words from the Apostle Paul. The verse of that hymn that comes to mind and the refrain which comes from the Scriptures are as follows:

I know not what of good or ill
May be reserved for me,
Of weary ways or golden days,
Before His face I see.

But I know Whom I have believèd,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.

None of us knows what tomorrow may bring, whether good or bad, triumph or tragedy. The particulars of the future are simply unknowable. It is unknowable for us the living and it was unknowable for the loved ones who have passed into eternity ahead of us. Nevertheless, the three men whose memories we honor after their passing, provide strong and straightforward examples of what we can know and what we all must do in light of the unclear veil that obstructs our view of tomorrow.

We must make sure that our lives count by serving others with all of our gifts and talents. We don't all have the same gifts, passions or calling, but we each have something that is useful to contribute to society. Don't waste your time or your gifts, saving them for a tomorrow that may not be your to use. While it is today, do good to those around you and do good for those who will carry on after you. Tomorrow or even this afternoon may by a mystery, but we each have a "right now" that is within our grasp and with which we can do tremendous good.

In addition, for those of us who know Christ and believe in the salvation He has made available through His death for our sins - not just ours but for the sins of the world - and the victory and hope that are ours to share through the power of His Resurrection , we can be confident in uncertain days that God will keep His Word and that there is a reward for those who hope and trust in Him. Jeff, Paul and Fred believed this and their lives produced an abundant crop of fruit even in their brevity. They are now experiencing the reality of their reward as humble servants who responded to God's wonderful grace with thanksgiving made manifest in a life of selfless service. I want to leave the last verse of the aforementioned hymn with you as we contemplate the unknown future and seek to diligently follow the clearly revealed call of God for all believers to all the good we can, as often as we can for as long as we can:

I know not when my Lord may come,
At night or noonday fair,
Nor if I walk the vale with Him,
Or meet Him in the air.

But I know Whom I have believèd,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.

Until next time,

Sam