Admire vs. Idolize: When Public Power Couples Break Up

Somebody on some meme somewhere predicted that Covid quarantine would yield a lot of breakups, and they should have taken bets. I mean…that’s awful, but they’d be so rich right now.

If you’re anything like me, and enjoy consuming wisdom and motivation from professional authors and speakers, you may have noticed the seemingly monthly announcements of divorce after divorce. Men and women whose relationships have been front and center of their advice, beliefs, and public personas are dropping like flies.

While I can’t help but be a bit wide-eyed and text my fellow fans a few OMGs after each new announcement, I’ve lacked the feeling of disappointment so many fans have expressed in widespread comments or personal conversations. I’m not entirely sure why, but I tend to admire without expectation.

I can see the perfection of someone’s wisdom without believing they’re implementing it perfectly, themselves.

Part of this may come from my own experience as a writer. Most often, the topics we write about are the ones that we fear at failing, ourselves. We dive deep into the parts of our lives that need the most consideration, whether because of legitimate shortcomings in our pasts or just the general surfacing of anxiety over areas our hearts fear losing the most. We write as a pot to the kettle, preaching to ourselves. It’s in that desire for betterment that we compile all of our lessons learned—first-hand or researched—and fine tune how things should be handled.

But it doesn’t mean we successfully handle it that way. It just means we want to. We know how to. And maybe, at times, we’ve seen great leaps of refinement in our own lives as we strive to. Nonetheless, the subject of most writers’ or leaders’ expertise is the exact area of their life that is the most tender. That needs the most consistent evaluation, attention, and medicine.

As the world of motivational couples has been breaking down over the last few months, my reaction is not surprise. It is not judgment or disappointment or glee or a feeling of something being inevitable. Rather, I feel solemnly reminded that people are people. That the couples most coveted are often the most vulnerable. No one is above temptation. No one is always strong. No one is immune from challenges or heartbreak or betrayal, even those who seem to have all the answers.

Other than empathy and a bit of curiosity, I can’t say it shakes me all that much.

You see, it’s all too easy to cross the threshold of idolatry when it comes to people we admire.

When you admire someone, you appreciate their insight, personality, or accomplishments. When you idolize someone, you see their life as worthy of replication. But no one—absolutely no one—is worthy of replication. People can be brilliant, kind, hard-working, funny, talented, faithful, and powerful. But with the exception of Jesus himself, no one is perfect enough to reasonably induce the desire to replicate.

Should we glean wisdom from those who’ve had success in certain areas? Sure! But should that wisdom translate to expectations? …I don’t think so. It’s a delicate balance to entrust yourself to the insight of a worthy mentor without underestimating their struggles or placing their strengths on a pedestal. Even the most tested and steadfast person under any umbrella of life—marriage, career, parenting, etc.—can falter in their area of expertise. In fact, they’re more likely than anyone. It’s why they became an ‘“expert” in the first place.

I hope this summer and all the tremendously sad news about the broken marriages of motivational leaders can serve as a reminder of that fine line. That they are not [all] unworthy or unfit to lead, but that we must have the discernment to evaluate our own hearts: Are we admiring someone, or are we idolizing them?

If your reaction to a person or couple’s demise is an array of personally-offended emotions (disappointment, anger, fear, frustration, haughtiness, etc.), then you’ve forgotten about your own autonomy. You are not them, and they are not perfect. Most importantly, you’ve forgotten that the only safe place to lay our faith is at the feet of God. Nowhere else. He is the only one who will never falter.

Now I’m off to go read more insightful books and digest wisdom from trusted resources, because a life without intentional growth feels stale and depressing. Can’t stop won’t stop. I hope the absolute best for these authors and thought-leaders, but their words are their words and their lives are their lives. Keep it separate, and enjoy your own path to fullness.