Whitney Houston's Spirit Lives On

A few days ago, Kathleen and I were in the car, singing along to a song. The song was by Alan Jackson, accompanied by Jimmy Buffett, “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere.” Pour me something tall and strong, make it a Hurricane before I go insane. It’s only half past twelve, but I don’t care. It’s five o’clock somewhere. After the song was finished, my wife said, “That song doesn’t make any sense. A guy goes to lunch, to a bar, and drinks his lunch away and then blows off the rest of work and drinks the rest of the day and all night.” She said, “That song doesn’t make any sense.” I said, “It’s country music, it doesn’t have to make sense.” I said a few years ago, Carrie Underwood sang a song, “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” about a woman turning her life over to Jesus. Then Carrie Underwood sang a song about taking a Louisville slugger to her cheating boyfriend’s car. It’s country music. It doesn’t have to make sense.

I’m glad my wife and I had that discussion because I like to begin my sermons with a story or a joke or something to lighten the mood, but I wondered what I could do to start off with a joke or a humorous story for this sermon.

Last Sunday when we were driving home from church, we were singing along to another song. A Whitney Houston song. The DJ played it, he said, because he wanted to pay tribute to Whitney Houston, who died the day before. As I was singing the song, tears came to my eyes and I wondered why. I mean, I didn’t know Whitney Houston personally. I liked her music, but I like a lot of music. Then I sent out an email to parishioners, saying that I was going to change what I was talking about today and I was going to preach a sermon entitled, “Whitney Houston’s Spirit Lives On.” A couple of people wrote me and asked, “Why are you doing this? Why do a sermon about Whitney Houston?” And I wasn’t sure. Why would I do a sermon about Whitney Houston? It’s not because she was a glamorous superstar, was it?

Several years ago, back in 1997, Princess Diana died in a car crash. There was a huge funeral service for her in London. All of the network anchors went and covered it. People wondered, “Why are you doing that? It’s because she’s a glamorous superstar.” They said, “Oh, no, no, no. It’s not that. It’s because of her humanitarian efforts.” People were skeptical, but the anchors stuck to their guns. That’s why they were there. Then, less than a week later, perhaps proving that if God exists, God has a sense of humor, Mother Teresa died. Not that that’s humorous, but then the network anchors who had gone to Princess Diana’s funeral because “she was such a humanitarian,” had to go to Calcutta in the middle of summer in the heat and humidity and cover Mother Teresa’s funeral because, obviously she was at least as much of a humanitarian as Princess Diana. So am I talking about Whitney Houston because she’s a glamorous superstar?

I remember years ago hearing her song on the radio: “The Greatest Love of All.” Whitney Houston sings The greatest love of all is easy to achieve. Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all. I thought at the time, “Man, that’s arrogant and egotistical and self-centered, isn’t it? Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all?” Then I remembered the words of a rabbi from a couple thousand years ago. Someone asked him, “What is the greatest commandment?” and he said, “To love God with all your heart, strength, soul and mind, that is the first and greatest commandment and the second is like it, to love your neighbor as yourself.” And I thought, well, actually that’s three commandments, isn’t it? Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. I think that rabbi knew something that Whitney Houston knew: that before you can love God and before you can love your neighbor, you need to love yourself, not in an egotistical, self-centered, arrogant way, but in an accepting way. You need to love yourself, warts and all, flaws and all. You have to accept the fact that you’re not perfect, that you have shortcomings, but still you have to love yourself and then you can go on to love your neighbor and to love God (if God exists). I think that’s part of the reason why I wanted to preach about Whitney Houston, because the lyrics of that song alone could warrant a sermon all by themselves.

Whitney Houston, as you probably know, unless you’ve been living in a cave this past week, was born in Newark, New Jersey 48 years ago. She, like many African American singers, got her start in church, singing in the choir, singing solos beginning at age 11. Perhaps it’s not surprising that she was quite a wonderful singer, even at that age. Her cousin is Dionne Warwick, her mother was a singer, so maybe it isn’t so surprising that within about a decade she would be a superstar.

Whenever I do a funeral, I say we want to mourn the loss and celebrate the life of the person who’s died. I don’t dwell on somebody’s shortcomings, because we all make mistakes in our lives. I’ve done a funeral for a man who was an alcoholic for much of his life, but I didn’t dwell on that because he was also a man who brought love into the world, who was loved by many people; that’s what I focused on. Whitney Houston was human like the rest of us. She made mistakes. She had a rough life in a lot of ways, even though she was a superstar. I think, as one of her songs says, I’m every woman, I think she’s every woman, she’s every human that doesn’t always live an idyllic life.

When I first heard about her death – that she was found in a bathtub, that there were prescription drugs and alcohol nearby, I wondered whether she had committed suicide. I don’t think we know the answer to that yet. She did have a mixture of prescription drugs in her system, but I don’t want to judge, certainly, but whenever I think of a suicide, I think of one of the phrases that I loathe, usually said by perky people, who mean well, but are oblivious: “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” Really? Doesn’t suicide demonstrate that God gives some people more than they can handle? I would say that to these perky people, but I think their heads would explode. And then usually, the same perky people say that if you commit suicide, then you immediately go to hell. Really? If God is a God of Love, a God of Compassion and Understanding, first of all I don’t think God would allow hell to exist, but if God is a god of love and compassion and understanding and mercy and forgiveness, why would God send a suicide victim, who’s already lived hell on earth, why would God send a suicide victim to hell? It seems to me that if God were a God of love and mercy and compassion and understanding, God would welcome a suicide victim into heaven with open arms, with loving arms.

This week has been kind of bookended by the Grammies on Sunday and Whitney Houston’s funeral yesterday. The Grammies were a tribute to her and yesterday the commentators said that America, meaning white America I guess, got a glimpse of the black church, a three hour and forty-five minute glimpse of the black church. I watched it all.

I agree with Stevie Wonder, who said at the Grammy Awards last Sunday, “Whitney, we know you’re in heaven.” I have no doubt that if heaven exists, if God exists, Whitney Houston is there, like every person. I think that’s part of the reason why I wanted to preach a sermon about Whitney Houston, because I think that her life demonstrates a truth for all of us, that we all end up in heaven, if heaven exists.

Then there are more of her lyrics that are just profound. “One Moment In Time:” I want one moment in time when I’m more than I thought I could be, when all of my dreams are a heartbeat away and the answers are all up to me. Just those lyrics, that could have been written by a liberal Christian, a liberal religionist, a humanist, a Unitarian Universalist! I want one moment in time when I’m more than I thought I could be, when all of my dreams are a heartbeat away and the answers are all up to me. It’s lyrics like that that convince me that Whitney Houston’s spirit lives on. It lives on in the loved ones that spoke yesterday at her funeral, her family and friends. But it lives on in other people and will continue to live on whenever we hear a Whitney Houston song on the radio, a song like that one. She will be remembered, just like all of us I think will be remembered, by those we love, by those who love us. Whitney Houston, and all of us, will live on in the hearts of those we love.