The Tragedy of Fame

Yesterday we learned 27-year-old English singer-songwriter Amy Winehouse had died, apparently of a drug overdose. Admittedly, I wasn’t a fan. I couldn’t tell you one song she sang or wrote. I can’t keep up with the often-crazy pop culture.

I’d heard about her history with substance abuse, another celebrity held captive to that curse. But were it not for those occasional reports, I’d have thought Winehouse was a tourist stopover in California’s Napa Valley.

Her death, it seems, wasn’t a total shock. Her family and friends had lamented her life’s downward spiral, feeling helpless to intervene. Now she underscores the high price – and tragedy – of fame.

The long list keeps getting longer: Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison, among many in the hard rock world; Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Hank Williams, Michael Jackson. You probably remember others.

Sadly, some current “stars” seem headed toward the same fate if they don’t turn their lives around. I hope they do.

But my goal isn’t to mourn those who brought about their own untimely demise. Rather, it’s to remind us all that wealth and celebrity are overrated. Just as Yogi Berra purportedly said, “The future isn’t what it used to be,” it could also be said fame and fortune are not as fun and fulfilling as we might think.

Thousands of years ago, King Solomon wrote, “I denied myself nothing my eyes desired, I refused my heart no pleasure…everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind…” (Ecclesiastes 2:10-11).

Then at the book’s close he wrote, “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes 12:13). We would be wise to heed his advice.

It’s better to be in God’s “Who’s Who” and the world’s “Who’s He?” than in the world’s “Who’s Who” and be unknown to God.

From ‘Who’s Who’ to Who’s He?

Justin Bieber’s a mop-haired, 16-year-old pop/soul singer who’s become the latest heartthrob for the teeny-bopper set. A YouTube video shows a little girl weeping because she “loves” Justin so much. He’s already written a book – and it’s actually longer than five pages! (How could someone so young have much to say?)

I hope he enjoys the fame while it lasts, because it probably won’t. When our girls were little, they adored New Kids on the Block. Who? Where are they now? A few years ago, the Jonas Brothers were the rage. They’re still around, but fading fast. Ten years from now, will young Justin be just another “who”?

Fame, correctly stated, is fleeting. At my exercise class they play a CD consisting of “one-hit wonders,” songs by groups that rocketed to the top and plummeted just as fast. Would you want your legacy to start with, “Whatever happened to…?”

A legacy is established not by long life, but how we live the years we have. I think of people who died relatively young: individuals like Oswald Chambers, 43, whose devotional books bless millions almost 100 years after his death; Dawson Trotman, 50, founder of The Navigators international ministry; and David Brainerd, 29, and Jim Elliot, 28, both missionaries.

Their earthly lives only shone briefly, like candles, yet their impact – through words, inspiration and vision – continues in the lives and hearts of people around the globe. In a world where we can move so quickly from “Who’s Who” to who’s he, it’s important to focus on things that will endure. That’s why I appreciate the last words of a poem by C.T. Studd, a missionary to China, India and Africa at the turn of the 20^th century:

Only one life, ‘twill soon be past,

Only what’s done for Christ will last.