It is not right, ordinarily, to describe a death as something sorely needed.
Sometimes, yes, we do wish specific people of wickedness, incompetence, or ill intent might pass on to their reward (whatever it might be). The saintly people, we want them to stay and speak and shine forever. But when they die, it gives occasion for the rest of us to celebrate goodness, to recognize greatness, to give thanks for a life well lived.
So it is with Dolly Parton.
Her unexpected passing this week has poured a river of gratitude all over our parched land. We needed an opportunity to celebrate something or somebody really good, truly great, authentically human in the best sense of that word. The glory of God, a great and ancient theologian once said, is a person truly alive. And Dolly was: truly alive with joy, with talent, with generosity, with delight, with kindness to everyone, all the time, to the very end.
Pollsters tell us that Dolly Parton was the most beloved public person in the whole United States. More than presidents and athletes, more than any preacher or performer. Did she have enemies? Perhaps, and some of them may come out of the woodwork, as we say, looking to “set the record straight.” Some of what they might say may very well be true. It is hard to be perfect all the time. It won’t matter.
Dolly is as close to a saint as we have in these United States. I wonder if the Roman Catholic Church can beatify a person who was never confirmed as one of their own but who exhibits all the human and divine qualities they wish more of their people had.
Somebody more worldly has suggested that we declare September 25 as Dolly Parton Day, not just this year but every year. We could all give books to kids or buy a ticket to support a struggling performer or even join in a karaoke at a gay bar. Better yet, we could find a small country church to attend, sing old gospel songs, and kneel at the alter to pray and forgive somebody and consecrate ourselves anew to kindness and generosity. What a way to make a living, what a way to make a life.
September 25th, you surely noted, is 9 2 5.
Dolly presented as a worldly woman, in keeping with her childhood idol whom her mom derided as the town trash. But Dolly demonstrated that the way you look is the very last measure of who you are. She made fun of her “trashy” look, often in ways that gave us a good laugh; but she was deadly serious about her treasures, including those gathered in some financial barn, or scattered to saints and sinners around her, but also those treasures “laid up somewhere beyond the blue.”
I never met Dolly, never saw Dolly, never even bought a record or downloaded a song. But I give thanks today for her life and also for her death. The latter gives me good occasion, in the midst of all the ugliness, meanness, and violence that swirls around our country today, to appreciate a truly good person and do so in a way that inspires me to also be a better person.
Good and Gracious God, in the name of the One whom Dolly called Lord and Savior, light my candle and help me also to shine in the darkness. Amen
Dwight A. Moody
It is not right, ordinarily, to describe a death as something sorely needed.
Sometimes, yes, we do wish specific people of wickedness, incompetence, or ill intent might pass on to their reward (whatever it might be). The saintly people, we want them to stay and speak and shine forever. But when they die, it gives occasion for the rest of us to celebrate goodness, to recognize greatness, to give thanks for a life well lived.
So it is with Dolly Parton.
Her unexpected passing this week has poured a river of gratitude all over our parched land. We needed an opportunity to celebrate something or somebody really good, truly great, authentically human in the best sense of that word. The glory of God, a great and ancient theologian once said, is a person truly alive. And Dolly was: truly alive with joy, with talent, with generosity, with delight, with kindness to everyone, all the time, to the very end.
Pollsters tell us that Dolly Parton was the most beloved public person in the whole United States. More than presidents and athletes, more than any preacher or performer. Did she have enemies? Perhaps, and some of them may come out of the woodwork, as we say, looking to “set the record straight.” Some of what they might say may very well be true. It is hard to be perfect all the time. It won’t matter.
Dolly is as close to a saint as we have in these United States. I wonder if the Roman Catholic Church can beatify a person who was never confirmed as one of their own but who exhibits all the human and divine qualities they wish more of their people had.
Somebody more worldly has suggested that we declare September 25 as Dolly Parton Day, not just this year but every year. We could all give books to kids or buy a ticket to support a struggling performer or even join in a karaoke at a gay bar. Better yet, we could find a small country church to attend, sing old gospel songs, and kneel at the alter to pray and forgive somebody and consecrate ourselves anew to kindness and generosity. What a way to make a living, what a way to make a life.
September 25th, you surely noted, is 9 2 5.
Dolly presented as a worldly woman, in keeping with her childhood idol whom her mom derided as the town trash. But Dolly demonstrated that the way you look is the very last measure of who you are. She made fun of her “trashy” look, often in ways that gave us a good laugh; but she was deadly serious about her treasures, including those gathered in some financial barn, or scattered to saints and sinners around her, but also those treasures “laid up somewhere beyond the blue.”
I never met Dolly, never saw Dolly, never even bought a record or downloaded a song. But I give thanks today for her life and also for her death. The latter gives me good occasion, in the midst of all the ugliness, meanness, and violence that swirls around our country today, to appreciate a truly good person and do so in a way that inspires me to also be a better person.
Good and Gracious God, in the name of the One whom Dolly called Lord and Savior, light my candle and help me also to shine in the darkness. Amen
Dwight A. Moody
Recent Posts
Related Posts
Three Gospels? or One?
I Joined a Church on Sunday
Beatitudes not Bombs
Eating That Gospel Pie