As most of you know by now, Kobe Bryant and his daughter were killed in a helicopter crash last weekend. There has been a huge outpouring of support, but there has also been some significant pushback. Some are pointing out that others also perished in the crash. Some are pointing out that we should give more credence to those who are true heroes (first responders and military) who die every year in more noble causes. One military General even went so far as to claim that those mourning a basketball player are “wasting their energy.”
There is no doubt that those who willingly, even purposely, put themselves in harms way in order to defend freedom and protect others are on an entirely different level of hero. Soldiers, police officers, firefighters, all deserve the highest level of respect and when (as they so often do) they sacrifice their own lives in the line of duty, they should receive all the accolades we can possibly raise in their honor.
I will also say, here and now, that when sports heroes or performers get political, I’m usually near the first to say that they have overstepped their bounds and, while they do have a unique and powerful platform from which to make their opinions known, government and politics are not, generally, their field of expertise and I take their opinions with a grain of salt (or less).
So, why do we mourn celebrities with so much passion? It’s because we feel like we know them on a deeper level than we actually do. It’s because we have memories built on times we saw them perform. It’s because, in some way, they have touched a large number of people. It is also, sometimes, because of the shock factor when someone dies before they are expected to.
We mourn those who create a void and a feeling of loss in our lives when they leave us. A celebrity or sports hero for whom we have significant fond memories of, a musician whose music we loved, an actor whose performances we treasured, all leave marks on our lives that do not quickly fade. When one lives a long life and leaves behind a legacy of great work we celebrate what they have done. When one leaves us at a young age, we mourn for their family and their fans, while we honor their work and celebrate their accomplishments. When an officer or a soldier dies in the line of duty, I am deeply saddened, but I can’t feel it on a personal level like one who knew them or even who has served would feel it.
No, Kobe and Gigi were not more important, nor more significant than the other 7 people who lost their lives in the same crash. Their loss was not more tragic than the loss of an officer or a soldier who gave their life in defense of others. They were more widely known.
Their loss was more of a shock. Someone dying in a helicopter crash at 41, with his daughter, is more surprising to the public than someone dying in war, or in the line of duty as a first responder. Their passing is not more significant, but it is less expected.
When I see that Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter crash, this is what I see. I see the loss of a personal sports hero. It brings back a flood of memories of watching basketball on TV with my son (who swears his first word was “Lakers, Lakers, Lakers” said in a mock crowd noise whisper). I see a man who was a great leader for his team. I see a man who stumbled and responded with a renewed love for his wife and children. I see a devoted father and husband. I see a super human who fell and got back up and was forgiven by his family and by God. I see a reflection of God’s grace and love.
Nine people died in a helicopter crash on Sunday, January 26, 2020. All of them leave behind a void that can never be filled. All of them will be mourned. Some by more people than others, not because they are more important, but perhaps because they are more known.
Some say we should be mourning others instead, or more. Truth be told, we have an infinite capacity for sorrow, just as we have an infinite capacity for joy. I hope we can celebrate those who we have lost and that the joy from their memories will be greater than the sorrow that accompanies their passing.
