Robin Williams

It's a sad thing when someone reaches a point of such depression and helplessness that they see only one final way out. In Robin Williams's case it seems particularly sad since in a movie he made called World's Greatest Dad, he makes the comment, "Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem." I was surprised, however, at how much attention his death received on the news channels. For 24 hours it was almost the only thing on Fox. You would have thought the whole world had stopped while they paid homage.

My introduction to Robin Williams was on the TV sitcom, Mork and Mindy. He made such a splash and was so funny, that I still remember the first time I saw the show. It was around Christmas 1978, and I was on my way home to Denver from college in Springfield, Missouri. I traveled with my roommate, Terry Andrews, to his home in Wichita, and stayed several days before heading on. One night there we watched this new sitcom about Mork from Ork. It was unbelievably and ridiculously hilarious.

I watched the show whenever I could over the next couple years, but when I saw a stand-up comedy act Williams did on some other program I turned him off. The routine was a vile, profane mockery of Christianity and the Bible. I got the impression he was an atheist. Now the news reports are that he grew up Episcopalian, so maybe not atheist, but his attack on the Word of God and fundamental Christian doctrines such as the Virgin Birth made it pretty clear that he did not believe the Bible in the least.

The only movie I've watched of his since then was Night at the Museum. He played a very heart-warming role as Teddy Roosevelt and I enjoyed the movie. It's unfortunate, I suppose, because from all I'm reading and hearing on the news he played some very good roles and he was as good as a serious actor as he was a comedian. Then there are his visits to entertain our troops, and his respect for them and To the Colors, which interrupted one of his performances. Testimonials tell of how generous he was, how many people he helped, and how he was a friend to everyone he passed on the street or anywhere else. Fame had not gone to his head. He was as humble and kind and generous as a human being could be.

I guess I didn't really appreciate his talent after that comedy routine, but he apparently was an incredible person and I think maybe it's a shame that more people don't share his outrageously humorous look at life. One poignant thing that Williams's death reveals, however, is that for all of his humility, all of his kindness, his generosity, his friends and family, all of his laughter, his fame and fortune, none of it was enough to overcome the depression that led him to his permanent decision. His successful achievements, public acclaim, material wealth, and all that comes from the world, could not drive away the dark shadows in his mind and bring him peace. Peace in the world, as well as peace in the heart, is only found in the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, the very one Robin Williams so irreverently scorned.