Celebrities in the Sty
|by Zoe Sandvig|
As I was jogging at the gym the other day, the news flashed yet another notice about Britney Spears's latest buzz--shaving her head. The announcer followed with a statement along the lines of "Research has shown that celebrities are actually more insecure and are on a path to self-destruction." The woman on the treadmill to the left of me chuckled a little as I felt a smile creeping to my own lips.
Britney's life, along with Brad Pitt's, Angelina Jolie's, Jennifer Aniston's, and Anna Nicole Smith's, has become a joke to us--a soothing balm in the grocery store line that reminds us that no matter how awful we may be feeling, at least we don't make out with Madonna and shave our heads.
But I (and I'm sure you can relate) have struggled with the correct response to People magazine's latest headline. Britney has made a mockery of herself, but does that give me the liberty to make a fool of her as well?
David Kuo has a better approach:
Now there is this runaway, this breakdown, the shaved head, the tattoos, the parties and the presumed drugs. And it all makes me wonder if the lost, little girl who now has two little boys isn’t trying to do whatever she can to get back to who she once was. I wonder if she’s looked at the pictures of her onstage kissing Madonna and writhing around on the floor and felt much as the prodigal son felt when he found himself lying in a pig sty. Britney’s sty may be different – more luxe and less slop – but the self-loathing, hopeless destination is the same. They both reached the end of the of the glam road and discovered it looked a lot like hell.
For the son there came the conclusion that his father’s house would give him a better chance at life even if the father he had once shunned no longer loved him. So he went home to confess and ask for forgiveness. He was greeted with a party; a party to celebrate his life.
For Britney now there is a trip to rehab; a trip to rehab with a newly tattooed cross on her left hip. And there is the prayer that as she goes into rehab that she might remember a simple faith that she once had in a man named Jesus and that she might return to him and find that he is waiting to welcome the little girl back and throw her the kind of party she has really been looking for.
Before we cast the first stone, I wonder if we ought to look in the mirror and see what slop is in our sty. And, instead of picking up that next issue of Us, say a prayer for Britney, and countless others, that they would run back to the Father who is waiting for them with a glorious feast.