Momily Monday!
Gospel found here
Or should we call it Miley Monday?
We stood in a crowd of thousands, sweaty and smelly from sleeping outside; our toes still slightly frozen from the German countryside’s cold evening, waiting to load one of the too few trains scheduled to transport the World Youth Day crowds. With my future husband beside me, I didn’t quite mind the wait, so long as he didn’t accidentally smell my armpits. Those behind us, however, weren’t quite as patient. A train came, and though the impossibility of it fitting the thousands of international Pope fans standing in the way back of the crowd was clear, they stampeded anyway. Medics rescued several people my size or smaller as they were being trampled, put into anxiety attacks, or unfortunately not being protected in the strong arms of my boyfriend, like me.
The narrow gate: not everyone fits; especially when irrational choices to shortcut the path create disarrayed chaos.
Miley and her gross suggestions, exposed bum, and worst hairstyle of all hairstyles is, to me, simply one example of the first being last and the last being first (see most VMA performances, I believe Nicki Minaj dressed up as the pope last year while dancers dressed as altar boys danced their way to explicit sexual suggestion? Or maybe that was another cultural value revealing performance?). Last night, as Matt Walsh explained quite well here, she revealed the true nature of her lyrics, and we are shocked as we should be, maybe because she used to be Hannah Montana? Or the naked visual finally creeped us out as the lyrics also should? Yet, her song is making millions, and so too, is the dismal Blurred Lines naked song (fine it has a good beat, but I prefer the Marvin Gaye version.) Sure, they are first on the charts and center stage, but it is doubtful the lock on the gate referred to in the Gospel will be figured out with the same ease, especially if Growing Pains boy continues to wear such dizzying outfits (not a knock on his moral character, but an observation of it being difficult to open things when dizzy, and his suit was the dizziest thing other than actually spinning.)
I have absolutely no idea what these people do in their private lives in relation to God, but I do know that actions have consequences, and celebrities are often a depiction of what the buyers find to be cool, or they wouldn’t be famous. And all of those middle school children who watched last night might not be able to decipher what or why any of those gyrations were offensive at all; their ability to develop a normal sense of sexuality or moral compass further trampled by those unwilling to take the right path.
And as a side note, I watched my son wait in line to get his face painted at the park. Lines are tough, especially when waiting for eternity.