Yes, I know Jesus died for our sin and rose on the third day.
Yes, I know that Beyonce (or other artist/celebrity) is not God’s begotten son.
No, I am not going to repent for being overly ecstatic in this moment.
No, I am not going to repent for rejoicing in someone’s talent.
Now I will say that, yes, some people do elevate their favorite celebrities to god-like status and “worship” them. However, I do know that Beyonce didn’t wake me up this morning. Let’s talk about you, he/she the devout, who only notices when I have an internet stan moment then wants to lecture me about how I wouldn’t go off for Christ like that. (That goes for those who do the “military/dead celebrity comparison” posts when a celebrity dies.)
Hold on a second, I’m going to have to ask you to sit in the last pew in the back of the sanctuary, next to Sister Wilkins, the usher you don’t like because she makes you spit out your gum EVERY SUNDAY, when you come in after we march in.
Last time I checked, the relationship between me and Jesus, we cool. I call him in the morning, thank Him for the snow. He calls me up at night, we chat in the middle of the day about problems and others, Y’know, we chill.
If it’s one game I can’t stand playing online it’s virtual sawdust and planks. (Matthew 7:3-5) I feel where you were coming from, but if your intention in helping me “know better” included taking a small piece of my joy, you failed.
What you need to know:
1. Don’t ever think that I’m stupid enough to not know the difference between my Savior and a singer. If I really thought that Beyonce was god, why do I sing in the choir every Sunday, or even volunteer in the office?
2. Sister Wilkins is really a nice lady, her banana pudding is off the chain. You’d know it was hers if you really talked to her. Altoids or Tic Tacs will do just fine.
At the end of the day, the relationship between me and God is just that, me and God. This ain’t you, me and He. (Shoutout to Mtume.)
Have a blessed day,