ybvdadminuser
Death comes as a thief in the night, we are told by a reliable authority. And death spares no one. We distinguish between those who are celebrities and those who are not. Death makes no such distinction. We think of giants of the silver screen as “stars.” But even stars perish. The entire universe, physicists tell us, is running downhill. Immortality belongs to a different sphere.
As another year came to an end, the media unfailingly supplied us with a list of celebrities whose lives have come to an end. We read the list and are touched. Could such a thing as death happen to such extraordinary creatures?
As the year 2024 approached its terminus, Jimmy Carter passed away at age 100. He was the longest living president. And yet, what is a century when we consider the length of eternity. “Anything that ends,” to cite St. Augustine, “is too short.” Stardom may not be in our forecast, but we have other things, no less important, to achieve.
Beloved Bob Newhart lived until 94 as did Gena Rowlands. James Earl Jones and Willie Mays died at age 93. Ethel Kennedy, the widow of Robert Kennedy expired at 96, but her stronger claim to immortality was in the 11 children she raised who produced 34 grandchildren and 24 great grandchildren.
Canada lost Alice Munro, the first of her country to win a Nobel Prize for Literature. Her fellow countrymen, Joe Flaherty and Donald Sutherland left the world in that same year. 2024 also claimed TV personalities Joyce Randolph, Richard Simmons, Shannen Doherty, and Dr. Ruth Westheimer. Death does not discriminate.
The music world will no longer hear live music from Quincy Jones or Kris Kristofferson. The dulcet voice of Morgan Freeman now belong to heaven. We mourn the passing of Terri Garr, Dayle Haddon, Shelley Duvall, Norman Jewison, and Lou Gossett, Jr. And from Great Britain, we bid adieu to Glynis Johns and Dame Maggie Smith.
Ron Ely defied death for a while portraying Tarzan. Richard Lewis, Martin Mull, and Dabney Coleman made us laugh. The world of sports may have suffered death’s mightiest blow in taking from us Pete Rose, Fernando Valenzuela, Bill Walton, Jerry West, O. J. Simpson, and Rickey Henderson. They will remain visible in celluloid, but no one applauds taped performances. We cherish their legacy though we will miss their live accomplishments on the field of battle.
The passing of celebrities is accompanied with sorrow, even though our heroes lived and breathed far from us. They were icons that, like the stars, appeared to be imperishable. Their falling to earth is broadcast throughout the world. They were, indeed, very special, and their demise created a whole. The media referred to them as “Notable.” Yet, this category, in all truth, does not lift them above the ordinary lot of human beings. Being “notable” means nothing in the eyes of God. We may enjoy their performances without necessarily imitating their life styles.
If we envied these “notables,” their passing initiates our sympathy. We pray for them and hope they will return to God. We will hold no grudges. In the most important sense, they were just like us, no better, no worse.
So many lives—enchanting on the screen, impressive on the playing field, refreshing as comedians, edifying as authors, and influential as politicians—have made their exits from the land of the living. The stars flicker, falter, and fall.
In the final analysis, what we all yearn for is not stardom, but God’s kingdom. Fame is a soap bubble. Christianity teaches us about the Resurrection, which is the victory of life over death. In addition, by meditating on our own mortality, we are less likely to mistreat our neighbors when we see them also as dying, even though that point of death belongs to an indeterminate moment in the future.
The “bell tolls for thee,” as John Donne has reminded us. We owe each other a profound sympathy, inasmuch as we are all made of the same clay and are traveling toward that presently unknown moment when time and eternity intersect. Our attitude toward others would be more Christian if we did not see them as heroic or non-heroic beings, but as dying, however slowly, and establish our relationship with them in accordance with both this fact and the reality of our own mortality.
We say adieu to our panoply of celebrities, our noteworthy notables, with the hope that their personal lives have earned them an eternity of everlasting joy with the God who is Life which does not cease on the midnight hour. These former “stars,” like everyone else, will be placed in the merciful hands of God.
Photo by Phil Botha on Unsplash
