Can't get enough of Susan Boyle?

You know, I’ve been unusually busy and out of touch, but I happened to be in front of a TV this evening and saw a CNN report with Blitzer on Susan Boyle. Her hair was shiny and coifed and she looked lovely and sweet. I couldn’t hear much, but from what I am seeing in my email, she’s just taking the world by storm!

I mean, heck, I am writing about her for the third time in a week! And I can’t think how many times I’ve listened to her “I Dreamed a Dream.” She needs to release that, quickly. I’m tired of trying to hear her through the screams of the audience, although it’s all of a piece, and a great story.

Why is the world so obsessed with a woman so “ordinary” – even her name seems “flat and ordinary” – in every way, except in her powerful voice?

I suspect it is because Susan Boyle has reminded us of something we’ve forgotten for too long. Hypnotised by Madison Avenue and Hollywood and the culture of youth, we’ve forgotten that the things they offer to us as “the norm” are ideals, and mostly fake ones. In embracing those fake ideals (how much money was spent last year in cosmetic surgeries and teeth-whitening?) we’ve forgotten that beyond all of those superficialities, we each have within us something of much greater value than perky breasts and unlined skin: the divine spark, the God-kiss, that lives in each and every one of us – no exceptions.

I think we look at Susan Boyle and her artistry (and she is clearly an artist) and we think, “wait a second…that’s not the narrative! Ordinary people who look ordinary, and live obscurely and who don’t run with the herd are not supposed to be great.” And then we dare to think: “what if there is greatness in all of us?”

That’s quite a thought, isn’t it – almost subversive – that there may be greatness in each of us, but that it goes unappreciated, because what is great in us is not valued by the people who “define” things and set the narratives?

I have always thought my mother-in-law was one of the greatest women on the planet, and I mean the world “great.” I remember once – even before I had married and produced the heir (which conferred upon me a royal Italian status even though I am Irish) telling a group of students that she – a mere housewife – was the most creative woman I had ever met. That sentiment was met with some rolled eyes, but I have always held it true that my husband’s mother and father – who are living saints, people who would do anything for anyone at the drop of a hat – are also people of great creativity and dynamism. They’ll never be famous, and they wouldn’t want to be, or give a fig for it, but there are literally “great” people with outsized gifts,who will never be known outside the family or their working-class neighborhood.

There was a terrific episode of All in the Family, back in the ’70’s. The Bunker family is being robbed, and Archie and Edith are in the living room with the thieves. I don’t remember all of it, but at some point Edith says “everyone is someone,” and confesses she has written a song about it. Urged on by one of the thieves, she sings it in that screechy, Queensborough voice: “Everyone is someone, if you love them…”

Yes, it’s sentimental. It’s simple. It is unsophisticated and simplistic, but it is true: Everyone is someone. Everyone has a God-kiss, a divine spark. My friend Fr. James Martin has written an appreciation of Susan Boyle that is downright catechetical, and it is marred only by his sort of apologetic, “okay now, “I know this is sentimental, but…” caveat.

The way we see Susan Boyle is very nearly the way God sees us: worthwhile, special, talented, unique, beautiful. The world generally looks askance at people like Susan Boyle, if it sees them at all. Without classic good looks, without work, without a spouse, living in a small town, people like Susan Boyle may not seem particularly “important.” But God sees the real person, and understands the value of each individual’s gifts: rich or poor, young or old, single or married, matron or movie star, lucky or unlucky in life. God knows us. And loves us…Everybody is somebody

Isn’t that wonderful? We should not have to apologize or hedge because we have dared to notice something of wonder, because we have dared to realize the very simple notion that – yes, I’m going to say it – God doesn’t make junk.

We are fascinated with Susan Boyle, because she reveals to us the world of possibilities we too often leave unexplored, within ourselves. We dare to think…has God kissed me, too?

Let us seek out what that kiss may have wrought, uncover it, celebrate it, thank God for it, even if the world finds those gifts less fascinating than the duckling/swan story of Susan Boyle. Small greatnesses add up, and they support whole worlds.