American Idol has returned and all is weird with the world. I’m hooked. I admit it. Enough drama to fuel a fleet of Kia’s.
“I just want someone to tell me that I’m great,” says a weeping contestant. Fine, then work your way from badness to goodness to greatness. Greatness is not bestowed by a three- four-judge panel; it is earned by years of hard work in obscurity. Or sold by the Governor of Illinois to the highest bidder. Or thrust upon you by the vote-counters of Minnesota.
I am always surprised by the talentless auditioners who display genuine befuddlement when the judges reject them. In my humble opinion, their friends and family should crawl to them in contrition for half a lifetime of duplicity.
We’ve been told for decades that the younger generation lacks confidence. Not the young people who audition for AI. They brim with confidence. Misplaced confidence. Too much confidence.
Have we raised a generation of young people who really believe they’re good at everything? Have we deluded these poor Gen-whatever’s into thinking the world really is their oyster? It’s not. It’s your sieve, and you’re a lump who’s just been sifted. Welcome to the real world.
Whatever happened to speaking the truth in love?
Friends don’t let tone-deaf friends do American Idol.
By the time I reached high school, I knew I’d never be a rock star. Or a football player, talk show host, financier, engineer, builder, or dancer. See how many options I crossed off my list? Whew! Ka-ching on the college savings. I was good with that then; I still am.
Maybe we need to manifest the ministry of deconfirmation. Maybe our kids are baffled about their careers because no one has helped them rule options out. Deconfirm them: “No, honey, you won’t succeed as a singer; stick with math.” “No, little Jim-Bob. Rudy notwithstanding, you’re too small for football. But you’re great at biology–remember how fast you cut apart that frog?” See how loving that sounds? By the time they’re burning wheelbarrows of dollars at college, they should have crossed a few dozen options off the list.
The sky is not the limit, the bottom branch of the apple tree is. Quite a relief.
Spurgeon’s pastor’s college refused to admit preachers who couldn’t preach. They had to audition. I guess that made Spurgeon preaching’s Simon Cowell. I can only hope to follow in his footsteps.
Is everyone an apostle? Of course not. Is everyone a prophet? No. Are all teachers? Does everyone have the power to do miracles? Does everyone have the gift of healing? Of course not. Does God give all of us the ability to speak in unknown languages? Can everyone interpret unknown languages? No! (1 Corinthians 12:29, 30, NLT).
Can everyone sing?
My mom says I can be anything if I only believe. I hear belly dancing pays well. I’ll start tomorrow. Need entertainment for your next party?
[P.S., Dear Church Veteran, please look up satire, hyperbole, and irony in the dictionary before you take offense.]