The tears of Jesus were real. How can one read John 11 and fail to come away without a greater understanding of the emotional humanity of Jesus. When Jesus walked upon our dirt, He connected with people. His emotion of compassion surfaces again and again (Matt.9:36; 14:14; 15:32; 20:34). In what are arguably the most famous stories ever told, Jesus noted the compassion of the Samaritan for a wounded man (Luke 10:33) and the compassion of a loving father for a wayward son (Luke 15:20). It is little wonder that Paul admonishes us to “put on a heart of compassion” (Col.3:2) and “weep with those who weep” (Rom.12:19). In so doing we become like Him.

Celebrities Die in Threes

I’ve always heard that although in recent weeks celebrity deaths seem to be contagious.

• Ed McMahon—longtime pitchman for Johnny Carson and leading spokesman for Budweiser beer—deeply in debt and dead at the age of 86
• Farrah Fawcett—one of the original Charlie’s Angels and the sex symbol of the 70’s (she posed nude for Playboy), was married once, divorced, followed by several romantic relationships including actor Ryan O’Neal with whom she had a son our of wedlock—dead at age 62
• Michael Jackson—the King of Pop whose 1982 album, Thriller, is the best selling album of all time, and who was known for eccentric behavior, multiple pedophilia charges and addiction to prescription drugs—dead at age 50
• Billy Mays—full-volume pitch man for OxyClean and a host of other products not sold in stores (although they are sold in every other store in Pigeon Forge)—dead at age 50
• Steve McNair—popular retired NFL quarterback, married and father of four, carried on an extra-marital affair with a twenty-year-old waitress—shot by his girlfriend who suspected him of seeing someone else—dead at age 36

And so on (and on). By the time this piece finds its way into your hands, many others will be added. Should we not be surprised that larger-than-life celebrities die, too? Last time I checked, we all die (Heb.9:27)—including the rich and famous.

It is the reaction to celebrity deaths that concern me. For example, the blogs are rampant with emotional attachment to these people. Of Michael Jackson’s death—“A part of me has died, too,” “I have been crying and my tears won’t stop,” “I have been lying awake until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning feeling sick and gutted,” “I feel isolated—like I lost my best friend…” It is both odd and sad.

First, I think it important to note that we should never make light of the death of anyone.  When someone makes the transition from now to eternity, it is cause for pause and sober reflection. There are two reactions, however, that become common in celebrity deaths:

1.  They become the best person that ever lived. Ungodly living is often glossed over as their death only magnifies their larger than life aura. And anyone who would dare point out sinful behavior that often leads to an early demise is vilified. One Facebook account posted that if anyone said one negative thing about Michael Jackson, they would be removed as a friend. A “friend” noted that since MJ’s death and funeral service at the Staples Center, nine U.S. soldiers had been killed in the Middle East with little media notice. He was removed as a friend. Others write about the ungodly: “Rest in peace.” Am I the only one who fails to understand what that means? How can anyone living immorally rest in peace?

2.  We mourn like we know them. I do not know any of these people—have never met them and have no relationship with them. Yet because we see them on television, we connect with them in an odd emotional way, and grieve at their passing as if we have lost a genuine friend.  The psychologists can decipher the why of it all, but there is no denying the reality of emotional attachments to the rich and famous.

We Get It Backwards

Here is the kicker: if we’re not careful, we expend more emotional energy to those we don’t know than to those we do. Take for example your church family. Every congregation of which I am aware is filled with problem people—people with problems, hurts, and heartaches. How much emotional energy do we give to them? These are not people we see in the movies, listen to their music, or throw touchdown passes, but are real folks with whom we worship and with whom we have a relationship. Their lives should touch and impact us. Do they?

And this: Are we bothered more by celebrity deaths than we are by the deaths of those who “die in the Lord” (Rev.14:13)? I’ve been to some funerals of godly older Christians that were barely attended by younger couples. Why? I am amazed at the callousness that we show our own brethren at times.

“I Don’t Know What to Say to People…”

Friend, join the crowd and get in line because I don’t either. I have learned over time, however, that what you say isn’t nearly as important as the fact that you showed up. There are many situation best served by golden silence (Eccl.3:7b). Just the fact that you are there to share your heart means more than anything you can say. And this: How can we claim to be like Jesus if we cannot weep with the hurting?

Here are things you can do—

• call ahead and take supper to a burdened family
• write down a meaningful Scripture on a piece of paper and ask them to put it in their pocket (Psalms 16:5, 30:5b, Rom.8:28; Eph.3:14-21, etc.)
• tell them you love them
• tell them that you mentioned their names and lifted them up before the Throne in prayer
• show up at the hospital—and make your visit brief
• send a hand-written note (the old fashioned kind with a stamp)
• weep with them—tears are God’s miniature messengers of love that transcend words

Jesus cared. A man’s man, He was moved by the plight of the hurting. His tears were real as He was willing to expend emotional energy to connect with folks like us. The saddest words I have ever heard are—“I’m afraid to love because I might get hurt.” Aren’t you glad Jesus wasn’t afraid to love? And He loved knowing He would get hurt—but did it anyway. Those who choose to distance themselves from hurting brethren miss out—they miss out on some of the greatest opportunities to serve and…they miss out on knowing the heart of Jesus.

Celebrity deaths do one thing for sure—they are a publicized reminder that we all die. Thus it behooves us to ready ourselves for the inevitable and, in the meantime, comfort those we know who experience loss and pain.