Where Is Thy Sting, Thy Dignity?
I don’t know if it was a mistake, or a point of sobriety for which to be thankful, that I followed a link to the story about Heath Ledger’s death. But what I found there grieved me: A picture of dozens of photographers, piled on top of each other, ravenous, flashing their cameras at Ledger’s body wrapped and rolling away on a gurney. Grieved because they did not gather to pay homage to a human life, but to commodify its end. Grieved because they do not feel sting, but satisfaction at possessing another story to tell. I am grieved because we have created them to do this. And how eager they are to give us what we want.
I had no great affection for Ledger or his work. Please understand, I mean him no disrespect or disservice. But as far as the vast millions of us are concerned, he was not a great leader to mourn. With his passing a great cause did not suffer (as far as I know). We did not know him but on screen, in magazines, in gossip. He was an entertainer, an actor, and soon more actors will take his place. As such, I have no loyalty to him except for this: Heath Ledger, fellow human, made in the image of the Living God, son, father and friend. His film credits matter nothing. As far as I’m concerned, this is what’s greater: that he was loved by the One called Love—a distinction we all share. Certainly he deserved more respect in his passing than he was afforded.
I take the events surrounding Heath Ledger’s passing as a reminder of the dignity of all human life and how our culture so quickly debases and denies that which is sacred. It’s a reminder to turn my attention from celebrity to the flesh and blood beside me—my wife, family, friends and neighbors both near and far. It’s a call to live apart from Hollywood gossip and talk about things that truly matter; to look less into screens, glossy magazines—all that seeks to disgrace our being—and look into living and breathing faces.
In anything less than looking into each other’s eyes, hearing each other’s voice, and taking each other’s hand, life is but a shadow of what it is meant to be. Let us run from turning one another into mere functions or products to be consumed. Let us love instead.
January 24th, 2008 at 11:50 am
Cam, I couldn’t agree more. Thanks for posting this. May we all seek to love in a deeper and more authentic way.
January 25th, 2008 at 9:23 pm
I don’t disagree with your central premise. But there is something unsettling about the way it’s constructed. In the eagerness to dismiss his celebrity and work, you almost throw out the individual along with the fame machine. It seems that a different but equally destructive kind of objectification happens in the reaction. When we fail to fully and meaningfully acknowledge him as a unique human being, statements that he is a fellow human loved by God tend toward abstract platitudes that potentially demean him further. As Rich Mullins said:
“I think we cry at funerals–even at funerals of people we don’t know or like–because we realize what a miracle life is. You realize, ‘This will never happen again.’ There will never be this exact combination of genes, there will never again be the things that have created this person to be what he is. God has spoken uniquely here, and it’s gone. It’s over. And I think there’s some regret, because we all realize, boy, we didn’t pay enough attention.”
In that sense, do we ever fully grasp the implications of anyone’s death?
January 25th, 2008 at 9:40 pm
Hi Randy, I appreciate your thoughts, but I have to disagree that I’ve counter-objectified him, so to speak. If I dismiss his celebrity or work, it’s only that 1) I didn’t set out to write about his death because I am a fan of his (toward his work I have no strong opinion), and 2) I think there must have been more to the man than his work on screen and what we see of him in magazines, or on E!. Surely the true uniqueness of Heath Ledger as an individual transcended his reel. I would submit to you that this uniqueness is something neither you nor I can know. And as such, I am not qualified to speak on it. I was not “eager” to dismiss, as you say.
I also regret that you see what I had to say about Ledger being made in the image of God as a platitude. I fear your interpretation there is more of a fault with the medium (a Web log) than my intention. I whole-heartedly meant that.
This was not meant to be a comprehensive essay or philosophical treatise–just a quick snapshot of my thoughts and feelings. After all–isn’t that what a blog is for? Perhaps my language was too terse, and your reading is a reflection of that.
January 25th, 2008 at 11:14 pm
I also want to add that, for me, the theology behind human beings bearing the image of God is profound and ultimately speaks of the worth and identity of all persons in a far more meaningful and substantial way than what accomplishments we can attribute to them. It could be no further from a platitude, in my opinion. A tier beneath that is that they love others and are loved by others. As such, I do believe that what we accomplish in our vocation matters very little in many cases or, at least, is less important. But who and how we are to the people we know and care for, the people around us, and who we are to the Maker, makes everything else a secondary matter by comparison. And to say that Ledger will soon be replaced in Hollywood by other actors is a matter of fact, not a dismissal of his uniqueness. As I said above, to know someone on screen, playing a fictitious role, or in a gossip magazine isn’t to know a person at all.
To say that he was no great leader to mourn is really to raise the question: why were there scores of reporters and photographers there, looking through his windows, to videotape and photograph his body in a body bag? It is not to say he is unworthy of devotion and mourning. But that ravenous way of going after anything newsworthy, in spite of the dignity it will strip away, is not mourning. It is not devotion–at least not in a pure, good sense.
I did not know the man—how could I ever be expected to meaningfully acknowledge his existence in a way that would do it honor? And so I settle on the honor afforded to all human life. This is all I’m qualified to say. And to me this surely seems enough.
February 1st, 2008 at 11:39 am
Hey, Cameron. I completely agree with both your post and the comments here. I think as Christians this is the only way we can properly mourn for the death of a person we didn’t know, the only way we can react to the tragedy of this invasion. One wishes for more of that silence we were discussing recently.
February 2nd, 2008 at 7:59 pm
Cameron, I promise to never quote Rich Mullins in response to anything you blog.
March 7th, 2008 at 10:10 pm
Cameron,
Thanks for the very thought-provoking post. It’s easy for me to objectify actors and actresses, or really anyone whose primary job is to entertain me. It is much harder to look at them as people who breathe the same air i breathe and are loved by the same God who loves me. In fact, i can’t say i think much about God in connection with any people in Hollywood. Thanks for the reminder.
March 8th, 2008 at 6:58 pm
As usual, I appreciate your thoughtful writing about a subject that’s become central to American existence: the cult of fame. Ledger is only the latest in a long line of people who’ve lived large and burnt hard and fast as cheap cigarettes. The paparazzi are not alone; Daniel Day-Lewis’s embarrassing fixation on Ledger (in two separate television appearances) illustrates our worship of the creation. Or worse, the creation of the creation, since what we know of Heath Ledger was a construct of writers and directors and publicists.
Still, the most poignant part of your post is the reminder that we are stamped with God’s image (and not under his heel but in his hand). And treating death as a spectacle–or a spectator sport–not only objectifies the created but mocks the Creator.
Thanks for the post, as always, brother.
March 15th, 2008 at 12:15 pm
Absolutely incredible Cam. Such inspiring and moving thoughts from you. Thank you.