"I'm an Instant Rockstar!"

 

HBO made a series partly based on his work called "The Pacific". Robert Leckie was a journalist who joined the United States Marine Corps not long after Pearl Harbor. On the day he was shipped out to boot camp, he was loaded on a train with hundreds of others for the long trip to Parris Island. As the train chugged down the tracks, the young men began to interact with one another. Leckie noticed that many gathered around a fellow he names as "Red" because of his red hair. Red had been a catcher for the Saint Louis Cardinals, even hitting a homerun. "Red had been in the big time" wrote Leckie, and he became an instant hit on the lengthy trip.


The other recruits began to gather around Red and "consult him about everything from pitching form to the Japanese General Staff. "Whaddya think it'll be like at Parris Island, Red?" "Hey, Red - you think the Japs are as tough as the newspapers say they are?" Red had become an instant Rockstar. Not because of any deep experience in military intelligence, or public policy, or for any of those reasons. It was all simply because he had celebrity status from Baseball. And from that experience, Leckie observes, "It is an American weakness. The success becomes the sage. Scientists counsel on civil liberty; comedians and actresses lead political rallies; athletes tell us what brand of cigarette to smoke. But the redhead was equal to it" (Robert Leckie, "Helmet For My Pillow," 7). And he penned this observation in 1957.


It's an American weakness. The success becomes the sage. Though it happened then on an all-night train ride, today it becomes a bigger, instantaneous trick. But now you don't even have to be a success to become a sage. All one needs is their cellphone video camera, or the camera on their computer with a great microphone, and - viola - sage status! I'm an instant Rockstar!


An acquaintance I know has done a satirical video showing the sham of the whole situation. Alan Noble, an English professor at Oklahoma Baptist University, made a short 1-minute broadcast that laughably pokes a thumb in our eye. He records himself being "real" by doing a video while riding in his car. You can watch it here: "Just something I needed to get off my chest." If you can laugh with it, you're likely healthier than many.


I bring this up because countless times we are prone to put a ton of stock in celebrities, giving them deference (esteem) that they haven't earned and may well not deserve. I love the band U2, and I really like Bono. So, I am perplexed every time Bono's chest swells up and he begins to talk politics and public policy. When he does, I slap my forehead and groan. "Dude! You're an entertainer. That's where your credibility lies. You've had a tough upbringing. I get it. You could talk about family and relationships and hard times, and even spirituality, and be alright. But international policies? Governmental directions? How to run a country? Seriously, you're an entertainer. I love you, man. But get off it!" But in our age, the success becomes the sage.


And yet, as I've already mentioned, you don't even need to be a success to be esteemed a sage. You just need a video and a microphone. In fact, in many cases, the more distance there is between me and my viewers, the more credibility and sage-status and Rockstarness I have in the eyes of some.


Recently one of those virtual Rockstars "deconverted". In other words, he denounced his Christianity "boldly" to all of his viewers. What struck me was how many of his "followers" were distraught over the whole affair. I wasn't distraught. I had questions. Real, flesh-and-blood questions. There had been a divorce in there, and I was only being given his side of it. But my heart wanted to ask his Ex's side of the story. I wanted to find out from his kids and friends who knew them both, and had watched the marriage implode, etc. You see, in an unconnected world of instant Rockstardom, I can show you how handsome, holy, and wholesome I am because it's all a show. You can't smell me, you can't touch me, you can't drive by my house and see my lawn, you can't engage with my wife and kids and know if I'm consistent. I can present the clean, tidy side I want you to see. But behind closed doors, in my flesh-and-blood life, I can be a monster. And you'd never know.


But what I find more disappointing is how easily Millennials, GenXers, and Boomers (and maybe GenZers) are susceptible to becoming Rockstar groupies. Rather than putting more credibility in neighbors, church members, flesh-and-blood pastors and elders, real in-person congregations, and so forth, many people race to the latest Instant Rockstar in virtual-realm and fawn over them. Christians included! We fuel the problem. We like clean, tidy showmanship. But that's only shallowness and a sham.


So, I encourage you to:

1. Put aside your favorite virtual addictions, your treasured podcasters and YouTube gurus for 1 month.
2. Begin to ask yourself questions about your preferred Rockstar. "What are they like in person? Can I ever get to know them? How do they treat their family? What makes them "experts"? Is this a "the success becomes a sage" situation, where I have allowed someone who impresses me on one subject to become my life-director in other areas? Do they mow their lawn? Do they let their laundry pile up, and get smelly before they wash?"
3. But also, get involved in an actual, in-person congregation. Get to know real-life people in their skin. Engage with others who have warts and blemishes and succeed and fail and pick themselves back up. Become open to helping at a church dinner or the clean-up of the church building with others. There will be all kinds of unprogrammed moments and conversations there that will aid you far more in your own struggles, and even career decisions, than you'll get with that perfectly beautiful person online.
4. Further, become regularly involved with flesh-and-blood pastors and elders in that congregation. Watch how they deal with mistakes and stresses. See the way they talk to their wives. Pay attention to their interactions with their children. You'll get more genuine guidance there, the kind that will keep you buoyant in the squalls and storms of life, than you'll get with the instant, virtual Rockstars.

It's an American weakness when the success becomes the sage. When all I need is a good video and microphone and can become an instant Rockstar. Let's recognize this weakness, and work at moving in a different direction, one that can be more a strength.


Mike