Reflections on the Death of Michael Jackson, and the Worship of Celebrities

Like almost everyone, I was stunned to hear of the sudden death of Michael Jackson on Thursday, June June 25th. The community around Georgia Avenue in Washington, DC, was literally buzzing with the news when I arrived home from my office, with no fewer that three people stopping me on the street to share the news.

Somehow, the man-child who dominated the universe of popular music for nearly 40 years was someone who seemed to flirt with immortality. Michael Jackson, to hundreds of millions of people who celebrated him with a passion that bordered on worship, never grew old, and wasn't supposed to die. But now that are confronted with the reality that, at the age of 50, he is, indeed, dead.

As the Qur'an teaches us, from God Almighty we come, and to Him, we shall (all) surely return.

But as I contemplate the loss of Michael, truly a giant figure in global "pop" culture, there is a second Qur'anic truth that resonates with me: that there is no deity worthy of worship but the One Lord of Creation. And how true these words must be for those of us who blieve in God, yet live embedded in a culture where the mass adulation that society pours out on athletes and performers approaches — and frequently crosses into — the territory of idolatry.

Michael Jackson, for all of his obvious troubles and even moral ambiguities, was truly an "idol" for millions. His phenomenal talent as a child leading the legendary Jackson Five had grown, over the years, into entertainment legend that equaled that of Elvis Presley and the Beatles.

Our culture looked beyond his fixation with self-mutilation and his fascination with children, brushing them off as nothing more that the eccentricities of genius. And when, as it was reported, his $20 million annual income could not pay for his extreme spending habits, our culture brushed it off, and seemed prepared to pour more money into his gigantic pockets of self-indulgence, feeding his appetites and those of the army of sycophants who feed off of him.

But now, when the music has died, the world must confront a deeper question: Who, or what, do we actually worship? And what is the nature of our relationship with God if the objects of our adoration are nothing more than false deities?

Michael Jackson, I believe, was a mirror held up before society, and one that yielded a reflection of the shape and form of modern idol worship. I think of how frequently I hear the word "idol" used in the context of our celebration of mega-athletes and entertainers, and how we collectively allow them to hover just above the moral judgments that we reserve for lesser mortals.

When a ballplayer injects steroids, or kills someone while driving drunk, or when an actor gets busted for drug possession at an airport, we say: So sad. Too bad. It's so unfortunate. And a few weeks later, after the intervention of a few ultra-expensive lawyers and a team of PR people, we place these "idols" back in the temple of collective popular worship.

And the world treated Michael the same way. His phenomenal talent trumped his need to carve away his face and bleach his skin (to the point where the African-American identity was transmogrified into a white death mask). And the numerous allegations of his sexual relationships with minor children — one of which was "settled" out of court for a reputed payment of $10 million to the family of the boy who filed the lawsuit — dissolves in the brilliant light of his on-stage performances.

Even when Michael admitted to sleeping with children who were not his own, we winced — and kept on giving him props, and love, and adoration, and yes, the fuel of nearly all idolatry — money.

But now the "King of Pop" is gone — and like all earthly Kings who pass away, his soul must answer to the Celestial King of all the Universe.

But don't misunderstand me. I'm not complaining about Michael Jackson's phenomenal talents. or his fame, or his money. In the final analysis (in the words of another dead icon, Tupac Shakur) only God can judge him. But collectively, we can, and we must, judge ourselves for the celebrity worship that permeates modern culture, and ignores the need to give real help to our "famous," but very human, brothers and sisters when they spin out of control.

I will miss Michael Jackson, too. I send my condolences to his family and loved ones.

But I must remind myself, and everyone, that the worship of celebrity, any celebrity, is both false and utterly destructive to the objects of worship and to those who bow down before them.

Let us honor great talent, but save worship for the Almighty God alone.