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In one of our conversations together, my friend Rabbi Shmuley told me that he had asked some of his colleagues–writers, thinkers, and artists-–to pen their reflections on the Sabbath. He then suggested that I write down my own thoughts on the subject, a project I found intriguing and timely due to the recent death of Rose Fine, a Jewish woman who was my beloved childhood tutor and who traveled with me and my brothers when we were all in the Jackson Five。
Last Friday night I joined Rabbi Shmuley, his family, and their guests for the Sabbath dinner at their home. What I found especially moving was when Shmuley and his wife placed their hands on the heads of their young children, and blessed them to grow to be like Abraham and Sarah, which I understand is an ancient Jewish tradition. This led me to reminisce about my own childhood, and what the Sabbath meant to me growing up
When people see the television appearances I made when I was a little boy--8 or 9 years old and just starting off my lifelong music career-they see a little boy with a big smile. They assume that this little boy is smiling because he is joyous, that he is singing his heart out because he is happy, and that he is dancing with an energy that never quits because he is carefree. But while singing and dancing were, and undoubtedly remain, some of my greatest joys, at that time what I wanted more than anything else were the two things that make childhood the most wondrous years of life, namely, playtime and a feeling of freedom. The public at large has yet to really understand the pressures of childhood celebrity, which, while exciting, always exacts a very heavy price
More than anything, I wished to be a normal little boy. I wanted to build tree houses and go to roller-skating parties. But very early on, this became impossible. I had to accept that my childhood would be different than most others. But that's what always made me wonder what an ordinary childhood would be like
There was one day a week, however, that I was able to escape the stages of Hollywood and the crowds of the concert hall. That day was the Sabbath. In all religions, the Sabbath is a day that allows and requires the faithful to step away from the everyday and focus on the exceptional. I learned something about the Jewish Sabbath in particular early on from Rose, and my friend Shmuley further clarified for me how, on the Jewish Sabbath, the everyday life tasks of cooking dinner, grocery shopping, and mowing the lawn are forbidden so that humanity may make the ordinary extraordinary and the natural miraculous. Even things like shopping or turning on lights are forbidden. On this day, the Sabbath, everyone in the world gets to stop being ordinary
But what I wanted more than anything was to be ordinary. So, in my world, the Sabbath was the day I was able to step away from my unique life and glimpse the everyday
Sundays were my day for "Pioneering," the term used for the missionary work that Jehovah's Witnesses do. We would spend the day in the suburbs of Southern California, going door to door or making the rounds of a shopping mall, distributing our Watchtower magazine. I continued my pioneering work for years and years after my career had been launched
Up to 1991, the time of my Dangerous tour, I would don my disguise of fat suit, wig, beard, and glasses and head off to live in the land of everyday America, visiting shopping plazas and tract homes in the suburbs. I loved to set foot in all those houses and catch sight of the shag rugs and La-Z-Boy armchairs with kids playing Monopoly and grandmas baby-sitting and all those wonderfully ordinary and, to me, magical scenes of life. Many, I know, would argue that these things seem like no big deal. But to me they were positively fascinating
The funny thing is, no adults ever suspected who this strange bearded man was. But the children, with their extra intuition, knew right away. Like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, I would find myself trailed by eight or nine children by my second round of the shopping mall. They would follow and whisper and giggle, but they wouldn't reveal my secret to their parents. They were my little aides. Hey, maybe you bought a magazine from me. Now you're wondering, right?
Sundays were sacred for two other reasons as I was growing up. They were both the day that I attended church and the day that I spent rehearsing my hardest. This may seem against the idea of "rest on the Sabbath" but it was the most sacred way I could spend my time: developing the talents that God gave me. The best way I can imagine to show my thanks is to make the very most of the gift that God gave me
Church was a treat in its own right. It was again a chance for me to be "normal." The church elders treated me the same as they treated everyone else. And they never became annoyed on the days that the back of the church filled with reporters who had discovered my whereabouts. They tried to welcome them in. After all, even reporters are the children of God
When I was young, my whole family attended church together in Indiana. As we grew older, this became difficult, and my remarkable and truly saintly mother would sometimes end up there on her own. When circumstances made it increasingly complex for me to attend, I was comforted by the belief that God exists in my heart, and in music and in beauty, not only in a building. But I still miss the sense of community that I felt there-I miss the friends and the people who treated me like I was simply one of them. Simply human. Sharing a day with God
When I became a father, my whole sense of God and the Sabbath was redefined. When I look into the eyes of my son, Prince, and daughter, Paris, I see miracles and I see beauty. Every single day becomes the Sabbath. Having children allows me to enter this magical and holy world every moment of every day. I see God through my children. I speak to God through my children. I am humbled for the blessings He has given me
There have been times in my life when I, like everyone, has had to wonder about God's existence. When Prince smiles, when Paris giggles, I have no doubts. Children are God's gift to us. No-they are more than that-they are the very form of God's energy and creativity and love. He is to be found in their innocence, experienced in their playfulness.
My most precious days as a child were those Sundays when I was able to be free. That is what the Sabbath has always been for me. A day of freedom. Now I find this freedom and magic every day in my role as a father. The amazing thing is, we all have the ability to make every day the precious day that is the Sabbath. And we do this by rededicating ourselves to the wonders of childhood. We do this by giving over our entire heart and mind to the little people we call son and daughter. The time we spend with them is the Sabbath. The place we spend it is called Paradise。
我應邀去希墨利家分享安息日前夕的晚宴參加晚宴的還有他的家人和朋友。席間最讓我感動的是希墨利和他的妻子把手放在孩子額頭祝福他們長大後能成為亞伯拉罕和撒拉一樣的人。這是猶太人古老的傳統。這讓我想起自己的童年想起在我的成長過程中安息日對我來說意味著什麼 ?
剛出道時我只有八九歲電視上的我總是一個面帶燦爛笑容的小男孩形象。人們總以為我是因為快樂才笑得那麼燦爛我是因為快樂才大放歌喉我是因為無憂無慮才狂歌勁舞。當時確實是這樣當然現在也是。然而童年時期我最希望得到的是遊戲和自由的感覺可有誰知道身為童星要承受巨大的壓力。一方面那樣的生活讓人感到很刺激；另一方面我又為此付出沉痛的代價。
我想做一個普通的孩子。我希望去搭樹屋去溜冰。可從我很小的時候開始這種夢想就成了不可能。我不得不接受這樣的現實：我的童年將和大多數孩子的童年不一樣。內心的渴望一直讓我很好奇，我想知道一個普通孩子的童年到底是什麼樣的我的理想就是做一個普通人。在我的世界裡，安息日成了我擺脫刻板生活.可以對普通人的生活匆匆一瞥的日子。
1991年，正值“危險之旅”演唱會開始時，我依然會穿上肥大的衣服，帶上假髮假鬍子和眼鏡去商場。我對絨毛毯感興趣，會饒有興致地去看拉茲男孩安樂椅，會去看完大富翁遊戲的孩童，去看照顧孩子的老奶奶。對一般人來講，這都是極其普通的生活場景，對我來說，卻是一幕幕奇妙的景色，讓我留連忘返。最有趣的是，沒有任何一個成年人會懷疑我這個戴這假鬍子的怪人。可孩子們往往能認出我來。每次到商場，我就像漢姆林鎮上穿彩衣的吹笛人，身後總是跟著一群八九歲的孩子。他們有的吹口哨，有的咯咯笑著，但從來不會將這個秘密洩露給他們的父母。
我童年的星期天是神聖的，這有兩個原因：一是去禮堂做禮拜二是用功排練。這似乎有違安息日休息的宗旨，可我認為這是我以最神聖的方式來利用我的星期天：發展上帝賜予我的天賦。上帝既然賜予我天賦，我就要充分發揮出來，這是我能想到的感謝上帝的最好方式。其實做禮拜本身就是一大樂事是讓我去做一次常人的好機會。教會的牧師對我像對其他人一樣。他們從來不會因為教堂後面擁滿了尾隨我的記者而惱怒小時侯我們總是全家一起去教堂。等我們長大了一起去教堂的願望越來越難以實現。後來只有我尊敬的媽媽一個人去教堂了。再後來我的情況越來越複雜，已很少去教堂做禮拜。我便這樣安慰自己：上帝在我心中，上帝在我的音樂裡，上帝存在於一切美好的事物裡，而不止是存在於樓房裡。可我依然懷念教堂裡的那種氛圍，想念我的朋友，想念那些待我像普通人一樣的普通人。
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狗仔卡
发表于 2010-12-15 21:44:14
变色卡
显身卡
楼主
发表于 2010-12-17 08:08:27