You probably recognize the title as a line from one of Michael Jackson’s popular songs “Man in the Mirror,” and I thought it an accurate description of my thoughts in light of his memorial service yesterday.

There is no doubt that Jackson was a gifted and talented performer and an excellent song writer with an incredible ability to excite and inspire scores of people around the world. His record sales, sold out concerts, and televised memorial service leave this assessment without question. Evidently, he was a great friend to some, and as we learned from her tears, viewed as a great father by Paris Jackson. And multiple stories could be told of all the great and comforting gifts he poured out on ill and less fortunate children. This was the Michael Jackson that was honored yesterday.

However, I remember another Michael Jackson who lived alongside this one. This Jackson never could come to grips with who he was, thus the radical change in appearance over time. This Jackson was such a compulsive buyer that he could not stop making outlandish purchases even when he was financially troubled. This Jackson fell under piercing scrutiny from scandalous charges of abusing the very children he had befriended. When asked about the questionable events concerning his child friends, he reasoned and acted much like a child himself. Al Sharpton told Jackson’s children during the service that there was nothing strange about their father. While this was surely comforting to these children, it wasn’t a true statement. His odd behavior is exactly what earned him the nickname “Wacko Jacko.” I’m not trying to be cruel here, but I am wanting to be forthright and honest. (BTW - true comfort comes from embracing truth not making pithy, unrealistic statements!)

There were two Michael Jacksons. The one who the crowds adored in spite of and to the ignoring of his faults, and the one who never seemed at peace and content although he possessed millions of dollars and millions of fans. Both were laid to rest yesterday even though it appeared as if only the former Jackson was remembered. From the golden casket to the T-shirt sales to the packed out arena to the star-studded appearances, Jackson put on one last great performance, which brings me to my point for this blog.

It’s over now. O sure, Michael Jackson (the name) will make more money now that he is dead than he ever did while he was alive, and I’m sure Neverland will become something of the new Graceland for this generation. But Jackson’s life is over, and eternity has already stretched out before him forever and ever. While there were many references to heaven during the service and Lionel Richie sang “Jesus is Love,” Jackson’s religious background with various spiritual advisors, his lifetime of discontent, and vague references to God leave me with little comfort for his soul. Even more disheartening was Brooke Shields’ tearful belief that Jackson was looking down from up there “perched on a crescent moon.” What!?! Sadly, Michael was surrounded by people who have no idea at all what comes after this life (Heb 9:27) and what is the only means of everlasting life in the presence of God (John 14:6).

It’s over now. And as my wife said concerning the memorial service, “That’s the best that the world can do!” What she was communicating was that Hollywood can put on a big show, but it simply cannot fill the void or provide lasting, sure peace and comfort.