American Idolatry?
I have a weakness for talent shows. Apparently, based on the wild success of FOX's “American Idol” reality television show, so does a large segment of America. Try as hard as I might, I could not escape the clutches of this pop phenomenon. I ended up watching the last three or four episodes, following a band of college-age kids with aspirations of stardom get whittled down to a single singing “idol” through a series of weekly contests.
Talent-wise, the show was a mixed bag. Although some of the finalists had modest vocal skills (usually in inverse proportion to their ability to dress outrageously), a few had impressive potential, especially the winner, Kelly Clarkson, an all-American girl with serious pipes and a sweet disposition. But the real star of the show was not a teenager trying to climb three octaves, but a sardonic English music industry veteran named Simon Cowell. Along with Americans Randy Jackson, a record company executive, and Paul Abdul, a former dancer and 80s pop star, Simon judged each performance on “American Idol.” The creator of a similar talent show in England, he brought the idea to the United States and in the process turned into a celebrity — some would say villain — in his own right. He also succeeded, unwittingly, in revealing some intriguing aspects of the American psyche.
In the initial auditions for the show, held in major cities around the United States, Simon rolled out his caustic, unapologetic brand of criticism. As the force behind mega-selling pop acts in the UK, he has little patience for aspiring vocalists with less than exceptional abilities. Tone-deaf youngsters pouring their hearts into pop standards were told they were horrific, talent-challenged, rotten, pathetic, and, in one case, “the worse singer in history.” In no time at all, Simon was labeled mean-spirited, nasty, cruel, despicable, and — gasp! — full of disrespect.
It was this aspect of the show that initially caught my attention. I first viewed an episode in which a contestant unleashed a fingers-on-chalkboard rendition of some maudlin 80s song. Randy said it wasn't very good and Paula attempted a nice, non-committal remark. Simon would have none of it. (As USA Today noted: “Fellow judges Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson sugarcoat their criticisms lest they puncture the contestants' self-esteem. Cowell cuts to the chase.”) He flatly judged the piece to be horrible and the singer to be pathetic. The contestant, angry and defiant, fought back tears and lashed out at Simon's “insensitive” and “mean” remarks. Even Paula thought Simon was “rude.” Similar scenarios followed. One episode featured a segment in which a group of contestants confronted Simon about his cruel critiques of their performances. How dare he, a successful record executive and talent show judge, tell them whether or not they had any talent? Couldn't he see how special they were? Didn't he realize how good they thought they were?
Yet Simon didn't criticize everyone. When a performance deserved praise, he praised it. And when he praised a performer, a strange thing happened: the crowd went nuts. The positive assessments of Randy and Paula were generally greeted with pleasant applause. In contrast, Simon¹s infrequent words of praise were swallowed up in a roar of nearly ecstatic glee. Simon is praising him! Simon likes her singing!
Intolerant of Truth
For some time now, Americans have developed a warped sense of entitlement and have embraced an unhealthy form of tolerance. A large number of contestants on “American Idol” seemed to believe that just because they showed up for an audition they deserved to be applauded. Raised on a diet of cliches exhorting them to “believe in themselves” and “follow their heart no matter what anyone says,” they have been taught that criticism is “intolerant,” correction is “insensitive,” and even the smallest dose of reality is “cruel.” After all, my truth is good for me, so why wouldn't everyone else embrace it? I'll tell you how wonderful you are, you tell me how marvelous I am, and the world is a cozy place.
One girl who auditioned for “American Idol” could not fathom that she had not been picked to go on to the next level. Even though the judges agreed that her singing rivaled that of house cats fighting on a hot tin roof, she was not to be denied. She stormed back into the auditioning room, angrily demanding an explanation, and condemning the decision in colorful language. How could they be so stupid? Hadn't they listened? She deserved to go on. How dare they judge her? How dare Simon tell her she couldn't sing well?
It is a fascinating microcosm of how people deal with reality and truth. Because of our fallen nature, we naturally shy away from truth, especially when it shines light on our faults and weaknesses. It is equally distressing when our carefully constructed views of ourselves and of reality are exposed as little more than card houses and cheap paint. In the face of truth, we have two choices: conform to truth, or try to conform it to ourselves. The former is the path to growth and maturity, while the latter leads to a life of stilted adolescence and narcissistic tantrums. The first is the narrow path God wishes us to follow, the second is the broad path that leads to destruction (Matt. 7:13).
Most of us will admit, if we are honest, that we are not completely mature in every aspect of our lives. We are constantly in motion, either conforming to truth or fighting it. When someone knocks over our card house and chips our cheap paint, our natural inclination is to be angry and defensive, whining that we haven't been respected and have been victimized. How dare reality force itself on my life? How dare truth demand that I change my ways? Who do they think they are?
But Longing for the Truth
Of course, “American Idol” is an imperfect example of how this works. Simon Crowell is, as he admits, an arrogant and often nasty guy. He's not the most charitable guy around, even though his ear for pop music is quite good. But he is also the most honest and insightful of the “American Idol” judges. This honesty, even when delivered with barbs and acid, attracts people. Which is why the same audience that often booed Simon also hoped that he would affirm their favorite contestants and tell them they are indeed an “American Idol.”
This tormented relationship is natural, but needs to be resolved. We can find truth revolting because our fallen nature flees from it. At the same time, we hunger to fill the God-sized hole at the core of our being. The Catechism notes: “The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself. Only in God will he find the truth and happiness he never stops searching for…” (CCC 27).
In sharing the Gospel and standing up for the Catholic Church, we will meet resistance, derision, and scoffing. We will hear remarks similar to these: “Who are you to tell me how to live?” and “I don¹t need organized religion. I'm already a spiritual person!” and “Do you think you are better than me? Christians are hypocrites!” As hard as it is, we must recognize such remarks as the defensive, frightened reactions of people who see their card houses falling down and the paint being stripped from their shiny, seemingly perfect lives. They realize, even if vaguely, that they need more in life than they can provide for themselves. They want truth, but they probably don't know how to handle it; they might not even realize that truth is not the enemy, but their friend.
So the Catholic, in living and sharing the Gospel, needs to always speak the Truth with candor and conviction, but with the knowledge that many will get angry. Others will be curious, but still might not know how to respond. We need to be ready to aid them in their weakness and lack of knowledge, not settling for showing them where to walk, but walking beside them. And, unlike Simon, we won't resort to sarcasm and a sharp tongue in confronting the falsehoods and lies of our age, but will instead follow the advice of the Apostle Paul: “And the Lord's bond-servant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, able to teach, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will” (2 Tim. 2:24-26).
© Copyright 2002 Catholic Exchange
Carl Olson is editor of Envoy Magazine.
