Kathie Lee thinks I’m a d**k
Or, how social media undermines thoughtful discourse
After football and broadcasting legend Frank Gifford died on Aug. 9, his wife Kathie Lee took understandable time off from her broadcasting gig on NBC’s “Today.” When she returned the following Monday, she offered a very moving thanks and testimony about how their Christian faith had seen the family through this difficult time, and how her husband’s relationship with God had set him up to leave this world with a peaceful and joyful spirit, knowing his sins were forgiven.
But in the midst of her emotional tribute, her message took an extraordinary turn. She said Frank would want the audience to know that his relationship with “a living God” was available to all, and would change their lives for the better.
“[Frank would] want you to know that he died with complete peace, he knew every sin he’d ever committed was forgiven, he had the hope that he would be with the Lord and we would someday be with him as well. That is the foundation of the Christian faith — forgiveness, grace and hope — and those of you who are hurting today or feel hopeless, it might be the answer for you. In fact, I know it’s the answer for you.”
It’s unusual for a daily news program — even the wine-soaked fourth hour of Today — to stray too far off the safe secular path into matters of faith, let alone full-on proselytizing. I thought it was amazing. It certainly took someone of the status of Kathie Lee Gifford to be able to go on at length about the principles of Christianity on network television.
Her words were just a Communion wafer’s distance from an outright altar call — a moment that might have left a channel surfer confused between NBC and TBN. And, for the record, I thought it was FANTASTIC!
As a Christian and Quaker, I felt deeply connected to Kathie Lee’s words and moved by the family’s bittersweet loss. I understand how grief is eased by the comfort of one’s faith in a loving and living God. As a viewer, her words felt revolutionary, authentic and boundary-pushing in a television genre that is typically plain Cheerios and vanilla yogurt to start your media day.
As a journalism scholar who studies how news covers — or mostly doesn’t cover — faith, it was the highlight of my day. I pulled up as many news stories as I could find to see how news organizations were covering her message.
Without exception, the major news outlets skipped her evangelizing. They highlighted her thanks for the tweets and condolences of fans; they prominently featured her comments on his impoverished childhood during the Great Depression; and they featured her comments about the importance of faith in his life, including the couple’s trip to Eilat, where he gathered stones in the place where the Holy Bible depicts David slaying Goliath.
CNN included a clip of a precious 5-year-old moppet named Heavenly Joy, who sang the gospel hymns “This Little Light of Mine” and “Something About the Name Jesus” for Kathie Lee. News loves an adorable child. And news programs — especially those that feature “infotainment” as Today does — love personal stories of triumph over adversity. As David Nord and other scholars have noted, American journalism has deep roots in the Christian religion.
Still, no mainstream news organization I could find mentioned her comments about Christ being “the answer for you.” Only the Christian Examiner and the Christian Broadcasting Network quoted that part of her message. But on my Facebook and Twitter feeds, Christians were rejoicing in her bold testimony, openly amazed that the “liberal network” NBC would allow it. So, I noted this discussion in a tweet during the wee hours before I faded off to sleep.
Now, first I have to admit I was taken aback that Kathie Lee had responded to my tweet at all. In fact, I’m not sure that I followed Twitter etiquette in using her handle, since I wasn’t really messaging her or seeking a reply. It didn’t occur to me to refer to her without tagging her.
Second, I spent enough time in Georgia early in my career to know a dismissive “Bless your heart” when I encounter it. I do appreciate the sentiment, but the “find peace” part threw me. As a Quaker, peace is central to my perception of the Holy Spirit. It’s also my nature to be a peaceful person. I don’t anger easily and I have Oprah levels of confidence. God and I are solid.
So why, I wondered, did Kathie Lee hope for me to “find peace.” I think it’s likely that she saw the word “proselytizing” and “awkward” and assumed I was criticizing her message as a non-believer. What a dick move that would be, right?! “Ooh, look at the grieving widow trying to tell people about God! OMG… #awkward!” Yikes.
If anyone did tweet anything like that to Kathie Lee or her family, I would happily take part in publicly shaming them. Only an asshat would use such a moment to eye-roll/side-eye/throw shade — choose your term — on a person’s heartfelt testimony.
So, as you see in the image above, I replied to clarify that I found her message moving and extraordinary, and that I was commenting about it from the perspective of someone who studies faith and the news. I got no further reply, but others on her feed “favorited” her reply to me. Each time I thought, “Did you READ the tweet? Like, really read it?!”
And it reinforced what I have learned many times over in studying media, religion and politics: People don’t listen, especially on social media. They wait for an opening to defend themselves. And that’s a shame. There’s so much to talk about!
I teach a class on media law and ethics and a class on media history. I love having a forum for deep discussions with students about how media messages shape our understanding of the world.
As the 2016 presidential campaign gets more intense, many of my wonky friends post stories about politics to my Facebook wall. Just a few days after Kathie Lee’s tweet to me, a very conservative friend from the West Coast emailed me to say that she had disconnected from my Facebook feed because she couldn’t take the lefty political posts.
I need to explain to her that the most militant leftist posts were friends of mine sharing things to my wall that they thought might interest me. They weren’t my posts to everyone else. But it doesn’t really matter. She won’t understand the difference.
And in the end, it’s probably better that we not be connected on social media. Because it’s just not where thoughtful and sensitive discussion about faith and politics happens. Not yet, anyway.
Rest in peace, Frank Gifford, in the arms of the living God — your God and mine. I will hold your loved ones in the Light.
