In the span of two days, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and Billy Mays all came face-to-face with their Maker. Their lives continued to pop into my mind as mile followed mile.
Farrah Fawcett exploded into American libidos on Charlie's Angels and as a swim-suited pin-up that has never been rivaled. Her fame of the 70's translated into limited commercial success in succeeding decades. She remained steadfast with her live-in, Ryan O'Neal, and bore him a number of children. Farrah's final decade found her in a fight to the death with cancer. In the heat of the American spotlight, she died.
Michael Jackson hit the scene about the same time Farrah did, earning his fame as part of The Jackson 5. Many thought of The Jackson Five as a black answer to the Osmonds, but when both bands dissolved, Michael's talent remained. He completely changed the face of music, video and dance, but for some still unknown reasons he marred his own visage into the mask of some circus clown. Out of the spotlight but trying to get back in, Michael likely died trying to silence his demons with drugs.
Billy Mays. Ten years ago, I'd never seen the man. Five years ago, I couldn't tell you his name, but would have remarked, "Isn't he the Oxy-Clean guy?" From obscurity into the white-hot of American fame, the seemingly genial and 0ver-loud pitchman erupted into the American commercial. With speed just as sudden, he died. At fifty. The same age as Michael Jackson.
More mileposts race by. Such a sudden cluster of deaths can't help but make one consider their own mortality. Why did she die? Why did he die? What is God saying in all this?
Even the One who knew the answer to such questions would not reveal it to His followers. When asked about a governor who was murdering his charges, the King of kings responded by stating that it wasn't necessarily for more grievous sin that these had died. He then dipped into another current event of the day by stating that the eighteen crushed under the weight of a structurally deficient tower had no greater corruption than the next guy.
But--and this is pivotal--such events, said the Lord of all, should bring us to a point of self-examination and repentance before a holy, righteous, and just God. "Unless you repent you will all likewise perish." We all will face death, and repentance will not forestall death. Repentance before God and an accepting of the finished work of Christ will prevent the second death, a death of unmitigated and eternal horror.
As Solomon closed Ecclesiastes, he encouraged, "Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth before the difficult days come..." And then to drive the final nail in his treatise, he said,
Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep His
commandments, for this is man's all. For God will bring every work into
judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil.
Farrah, Michael and Billy have all slipped into eternity. In a few weeks you will have forgotten them, perhaps to think about them one more time this year when the end-of-year look backs on all who died take place. In this season with their deaths fresh in your mind, perhaps a bit of repentance is in order. Perhaps a lot.
Before you know it, another hundred miles slip into your review mirror.
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UPDATE: This morning, I read where Karl Malden died. He passed from this life at age 97! He was the large-nosed, chapeaued police lieutenant on "The Streets of San Francisco," the TV show where Michael Douglas, Kirk's son, got his start. He was superb as Omar Bradley next to George C. Scott's eponymous "Patton," and he earned an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor in "A Streetcar Named Desire." Sadly, many will only know him for "don't leave home without it." He died in the quiet of his home after a long life and an outstanding and unsoiled acting career. What a difference.
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