Buzz Trexler

Last Sunday, I went to a river baptism connected to my mom’s church, Roan Mountain United Methodist, and penned a column about it. There is also a video, but the date at the end of the video is wrong. It should read Sept. 13, but the video editor and I both missed it until it hit the larger computer screen. We’ve uploaded a corrected version, but for some reason the errant version is showing most of the time. Oh, well. Maybe it’ll straighten out at some point.

Here are short links to the column, photo gallery and video:

Photo gallery of “The Baptism of Rhodyjane”:
http://tr.im/rhodyjane_photos

Video of “The Baptism of Rhodyjane”:
http://bit.ly/rhodyjane

Faith Today column of “The Baptism of Rhodyjane” with links to photos
and video:
http://tr.im/rhodyjane_column

It was an incredible faith experience for me …

In watching the Michael Jackson memorial event today, I found myself torn between two vocations: There was the newsroom cynicism that looked at motives and celebrity production, and then there was the desire as a pastor to see family and friends make their way through what can be a difficult ritual — likely doubly so for a family caught in the midst of stardom.

The memorial event sometimes had the feel of a celebration of Michael’s life, sometimes it had the feel of just another pop variety show, but there were also some poignant moments that gave a sense of normalcy:

• Michael’s daughter, Paris Michael Katherine Jackson standing before the throng and proclaiming, “I just want to say ever since I was born, Daddy has been the best father you can ever imagine. And I just wanted to say I love him so much.” She then fell into the arms of her aunt, Janet Jackson. It’s a clip that is playing over and over on CNN in the background as I write this post.
• Brooke Shields sharing how she and Michael were friends who bonded through the common life of child stardom. “We had a bond and maybe it was because we both understood what it was like to be in the spotlight from a very, very young age. I used to tease him and say, ‘I started when I was 11 months old. You’re a slacker. You were like 5?’ Both of us needed to be adults very early, but when we were together, we were two little kids having fun.”
• Motown legend Smokey Robinson expressing the same sort of sentiment that an elder experiences when a younger friend or family member dies: “You don’t think you’ll live to see them gone.”

Those are the moments and memories that are common to humanity as we move through the rituals of a loved one’s passing: Grief, remembrances, and shock. Still, in the swarm of celebrity and pop culture hoopla, I continued to wait for one particular moment, growing more and cynical — and then it came, from Bernice King, daughter of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.:

“My prayer is that no one and nothing, public or private, fact or fiction, true or rumored, will separate you from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus,” King said. “Because ultimately at the end of the day it is only God’s love that will anchor you, sustain you, and move you to a higher ground, far above the noise of life. There you will find the peace, comfort and joy to move forward and advance Michael’s legacy.”

She later added, “Michael’s life and work was inspired by the love of God.”

Earlier, I believe, Stevie Wonder shared, “This is a moment that I wish that I didn’t live to see come. But as much as I can say that and mean it, I do know that God is good and I do know that as much as we may feel — and we do — that we need Michael here with us, God must have needed him far more.”

Not certain about the theology that God needs someone more than we do and thus decides to end their life here on earth, but it was good that God got a shout out, so to speak.

It was a long memorial event, and I may have missed other references to the Giver of Life and the Giver of Gifts, and thus the One who gave us the gift of Michael Jackson’s talent. But with an audience of millions, the pastor in me sought more in terms of comfort, assurance, and the love of God for the children and family.

I was still cynically stewing about this when we were in the News budget meeting discussing coverage for the next day’s print edition when I was reminded that the family had a private memorial service before the Staples Center spectacle. And then it hit me: That’s exactly where it belonged.

Michael’s mother, Katherine Jackson, has guardianship over his children. It is said that she is a woman of faith, and perhaps with that in mind, and knowing the entertainment spectacle that would follow, she placed the service of faith in the forefront.

Once again, I am humbled by the revelation that things are not always what they appear in this world, whether in the spiritual or the secular realm.

I first read “In His Steps,” by Charles M. Sheldon, in the late 1980s.

My Pa’s mother, Momma T., had it on her shelf, but the inscription indicates it actually belonged to his sister, Emily. Since I expressed an interest in reading it, it was placed in my hands.

In the Sheldon tradition, it has no copyright; however, the author’s introduction indicates it is a 1935 edition. Based upon a series of sermons by Sheldon, the book was originally penned in 1896 and the author notes that, “Owing to the fact that no one had an (sic) legal ownership in the book, sixteen different publishers in America and fifty in Europe and Australia put out the book in various editions from an English penny to eight shillings. “Mr. Bowden, the London publisher, sold over 3,000,000 copies of the penny edition on the streets of London.”

In the early 1990s, the once public domain book and the “WWJD?” acronym for “What Would Jesus Do?” became a Christian subculture pop craze. I always felt a little funny about that, and I’m fairly certain if he had seen some of the applications Sheldon would have rolled over in his grave.

Today, my somewhat inherited copy of “In His Steps” — with its brittle, yellowed pages — has a high place of honor in my bookcase. The reason: It greatly influenced how I attempt to practice journalism today. One of Sheldon’s central figures was a newspaper editor, who stopped to ask himself “What would Jesus do?” before printing any story or advertisement. While I confess to falling short of asking that question on every story, I do seek to use faith-based wisdom and compassion in conjunction with news judgment when plying my trade.

Christians struggle in every vocation, but journalism offers some unique struggles for people of faith — not the least of which is a feeling that we sometimes peddle gossip for a living. That feeling serves as a reminder to me that the calling is much higher, the responsibilities great, and the opportunity to impact your community in a positive way even greater. In the Christian vernacular, it can be “Kingdom work,” which is not to be confused with proselytizing for the faith.

Kingdom work is looking for places where the community — particularly, but not solely, the community of faith — is letting down its responsibility to care for the widow and orphan, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, and to ensure that ‘justice rolls down like a mighty river.’ Once identified, it can spawn a news story that sometimes results in positive changes within the community.

Few people know that Sheldon was actually invited to edit The Topeka Daily Capital newspaper as he believed Jesus would for one week beginning March 13, 1900. Heather Hooper, writing for The (Topeka) Capitol-Journal in a Sheldon centennial section published in 2000, notes, “At that time, the Capital’s average weekly circulation rate was around 11,200, and 12,300 on Sundays. During Sheldon week, the number skyrocketed to an average daily circulation of 362,684, with more than 2.1 million copies printed all together, according to an article published March 25, 1900, in the Capital.”

The March 13, 1900, New York Times carried a story headlined, “The Rev. C.M. Sheldon’s Newspaper Experiment.” The lead paragraph, datelined Topeka, Kan., read, “The main purpose of the paper will be to influence its readers to seek first the Kingdom of God.”

Not sure how well I do that sometimes; however, like the Apostle Paul, I try to run the good race.