I’m pretty sure you’ve heard by now. Kris Kristofferson is dead.
As you’re reading this, it’s been two days since the legendary singer-songwriter and actor passed. But I’m writing this column on Sunday afternoon, less than an hour after People magazine and The New York Times emailed me the news.
And I have tears in my eyes.
Actually, I’m rather surprised at this response. I never even bought one of his albums but his work is still indelibly stamped into my memory from my college days.
Among my tight circle of friends at that time, at the Christian Student Center, there were several singers, guitar players and the like. That’s definitely one place where my love of singing blossomed.
My roommate, Jan Robertson (later to become Jan Robertson Dasher), and I would relentlessly beg our friend Sam Poole to play and sing Kris’ “The Silver-Tongued Devil and I.” Over and over … and over.
Not to mention “On the Cover of the Rolling Stone” by Dr. Hook & the Medicine Show. On that song, Sam Poole would be accompanied by Sam Holt – a great friend of his – and they would perform it almost dead on. I can still see and hear them like it was yesterday.
I dunno. Maybe those are kind of strange songs for conservative Christians to have loved back then, what with the “freaky ole lady name a cocaine Katy” mentioned in the Dr. Hook song. And Kris’ allusions to possible seductions by the silver-tongued devil. If memory serves, one time we had the duo sing “Cover of the Rolling Stone” in front of a group of adults from our congregation. I don’t think the applause was very loud.
But we college students absolutely loved it.
Which is why the tears have returned to my eyes as I’m typing this sentence.
And I’m thinking … why should I be taking this death so hard? Remember: I didn’t even buy an album.
And I’m thinking … surely other recent celebrity deaths should have affected me more. People whom I had a closer “relationship” with than Kris Kristofferson. Like – Bob Newhart. Matthew Perry. Tina Turner. Tommy Smothers. Tony Bennett. No tears shed at all.
I did cry when Lisa Marie Presley died, but I think more than anything it was the compounded tragedies occurring in that family that got to me. And, of course, the love I had for Elvis.
And I’m also thinking, on a completely different level, on a deeper level … there’s another death that deserves my tears. Tears for someone with whom I have a much more profound relationship than any of these celebrities. It’s also someone whom I have never met personally, but whom I long to know more deeply every day.
It’s Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth. The carpenter’s son. The hope of the world. The Bread of Life. The Light of the World. The Good Shepherd. The Great I Am.
He died. And that death was for me. And for you. He died so that we can have eternal life with him forever. His death was the only way that humankind could get back into the right relationship with God. If there were any other way, I know – I am certain – that God the Father would have arranged it. But he didn’t.
That death deserves tears. Because my sins helped cause it.
Yet, as the saying goes, wait. There’s more. With this death, we don’t stop at the tomb. Because it was empty. He’s now in heaven, awaiting every single soul who will accept and obey him.
That includes you.
So we can wipe away those tears that come from our part in his death … and we can rejoice.
The term “Good News” is actually an understatement. It is GREAT news.
If that sounds simple, it is. At the same time, it’s the deepest truth in the world.
And with that, my tears are gone.
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Sallie Rose Hollis lives in Ruston and retired from Louisiana Tech as an associate professor of journalism and the assistant director of the News Bureau. She can be contacted at sallierose@mail.com.
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