Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Here's Johnny ... Johnny Cash that is

If you watched the special on CBS tonight, you heard some of Johnny Cash's classics - including one of my favorites, the Wanderer (originally performed with U2). Over the last year, I've been introduced to Cash's music, and I'm the better for it. We'll soon see if the movie about him is able to capture some of the mystique and power of his life and music. I hope so.

The upcoming movie also reminded me of a story which I had hoped to publish on Relevantmagazine.com. Unfortunately it never made their site, so I'll do my own publishing this time. The story was written in the early part of '05 - when I was listening to Johnny Cash for the first time and the world was awaiting the fate of Pope John Paul II. Here's the story:

Somewhere in heaven the man in black has probably tipped his hat to the man in white. Call me speculative or even ludicrous, but I would like to believe Pope John Paul II was welcomed into the heavenly realms with a firm but cordial handshake from Johnny Cash. Yes, I am serious, and I mean the comparison with the utmost respect for the Pope, Catholics and Country music fans worldwide.

Though John Paul II and Johnny Cash had their obvious differences, the similarities between the two men run deep. Both men were icons for their people. Both were known as common men – able to embrace all levels of society. And no similarity is more significant than the way both men identified themselves with suffering and with the meek. They were champions of a humble road, and thus a lighthouse for our sleek, sitcom world.

Pope John Paul II welcomed his later years of suffering as a powerful, redemptive experience. The Vatican newspaper suggested in February the Pope was participating in the suffering of Christ and said “the bed of pain” had become the “the cathedral of life.” Though he passed away quietly in his apartment, his weakness was not hidden. His head held low, his words inaudible, he appeared just days before his death to pray and to bless.

The Pope’s final days were a stark contrast to his early days as Pontiff. When he became Pope twenty-six years ago he was athletic, determined and charismatic – attributes he would use as a world evangelist. Some even assert Pope John Paul II helped topple communism in his home country, Poland, and beyond.

However, his powerful influence emerged out of a humble and harsh childhood. He experienced the greatest tragedy of the 20th century when his country was occupied by Nazi Germany. More intimately, three of his family members, including his mother, died before he reached his 13th birthday.

Against this backdrop of sorrow and with his own health deteriorating, he freely acknowledged in 1994 “the pope must suffer so that every family and the world should see that there is...a higher gospel: the gospel of suffering, with which one must prepare the future.” His last act of leadership was to remind us that even godly, bold people still suffer and die.

Johnny Cash had his own way of walking the rugged road of death and suffering. Known as “the Man in Black,” Johnny Cash once sang “I shot a man in Reno/Just to watch him die.” This song and several others from Cash have gritty language more suitable for prison yards than churches. But the harsh side of Johnny Cash was more musical folklore than truth. In reality, his attitude was down-to-earth – mirroring the somber sound of his baritone voice. And his song “Man in Black” revealed Cash’s willingness to identify himself with the underprivileged and unknown, including these lyrics:

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times . . .

Well, we’re doing mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin’ cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we’re reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought ‘a be Man in Black.

Both John Paul II and Johnny Cash could have chosen different styles to demonstrate their fame in this world. They could have gone the way of many stars and people of power: building barriers between themselves and others. Thankfully, though, they chose a different path, the more difficult path. Pope John Paul II chose his years of suffering as a road to compassion, not isolation. Likewise, Johnny Cash chose to remember people others would just as soon forget. Both men dared to keep the door to brokenness open, knowing that many roads to heaven pass initially through Gethsemane and Golgotha.

So my idea may not be ludicrous after all. Pope John Paul II, the man who ended his earthly days hunched in white robes, was likely welcomed by a whole host of saints and angels. And I would like to believe up there in front somewhere Johnny Cash got a chance to say hello and welcome a friend.

What is certain is the legacy these two men left: modern examples of Christ-like compassion. They left some big shoes to fill, or should I say, some important clothes to wear. And regardless of what clothes you wear – black or white – you may want to reflect on the Pope’s final messages while listening to some Johnny Cash. I think they would be pleased, and you would be enriched.

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