I never know what is going on in the lives of celebrities. I can't keep up with them. I don't know who's who anymore. But Lady Gaga is an exception. There is something about her you can't miss.
Everything about her is outrageous: the lyrics, the antics, the look—including the meat dress.
Even a fossil like me knows who she is.
Or do I?
I don't think I do. See, all I know is a caricature. A projection. A made up character with a made up name. How much of this Lady Gaga persona resembles the real Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta?
But her Oscar performance gives me my first clue.
I see a beautiful, talented woman.
I now have an insight into the person God made. Where has she been all this time? I'd like to see more of this version of her, who I'd like to believe is simply—her. Anyway, it leaves me wondering: Why the gimmicks? Lady, you don't need gimmicks.
I see a correlation between the entertainment world and the dating world. The same motives are there. We want to be noticed. We want to be accepted. We want to be remembered. We want someone to love us—for ourselves. But there's a conflict; we're afraid we're not good enough just as ourselves.
We all feel this way. Everyone. The most successful performers get into the worst trouble worrying over their self image. They are us writ large.
Sometimes we struggle through it and become better for it. This is the kind of progress God wants to see. Us becoming more like what He made us to be. Ultimately—holy.
Other times though, the struggle leads us away from our true selves. We give in to the feeling of insecurity and hide behind a caricature of ourselves. Trying to make ourselves into something we think people want. Or at least won't easily forget. Gimmicks.
Gimmicks don't do us any favors. They lead people to think they know us when they don't really. They lead people to put us in a box and label us—often with an eye roll. Is this really what we want? Yeah, people notice us and remember us, but what good does it do if their impressions are negative? Or if not negative, then at least false? Gimmicks don't satisfy anyone because everyone is meant to love and be loved, to know and be known for who they really are.
A lot of performers have testified to the emptiness they felt even at the height of their careers. European pop star, Tajci, told me in an interview that people's expectations were crushing her. People wanted to look like her, get advice from her, and name their kids after her—all based on her image. Nobody really knew her. One of the moments that led to her conversion, to her abandoning her stardom to seek God, was meeting real friends. She joined a youth group which met in a church basement. Everyone there knew who she was the moment she walked in, but they all treated her as a regular person. They met her—not as part of a mob of screaming fans—but as herself. A mystery to be discovered.
We are all mysteries waiting to be discovered. The question is, will we allow it? The people we meet will know us more or less depending on whether we let them.
So while we hope that someone out there will give us a chance, we need to give ourselves a chance. Lent is a good time to ask ourselves what "version" of ourselves we are putting out there. How can we be better—really? The way God wants us to be. Just us. No gimmicks.
That's the version people can really love.
