We have a weekly Friday movie night tradition in my family. And as soon as Thanksgiving is in the rearview mirror, it is all Christmas movies for the next month. Is that true for anyone else? Well, whether it is or not, take a moment right now to tell someone sitting near you what your favorite Christmas movie is. …
When I was growing up, the movie we watched every year was A Christmas Carol (the one starring George C. Scott as Scrooge – this is the best one, and I will not be convinced otherwise). This classic Charles Dickens story has endured and been made and remade for so many reasons, but one is that we love a compelling transformation story. A miserly curmudgeon is visited by four ghosts who show him his life from different perspectives, past, present, and future. As we watch (or read), the audience, too, is brought into reflecting on how our own life experiences shape us and our values, how our current way of being in the world affects others, and how this might play out into the future. By the time Scrooge wakes up on Christmas morning, a dramatically changed man, we, too, feel that maybe there is hope for a brighter future for ourselves. I am not ashamed to admit that I cry every time when Scrooge shouts down to the boy to go buy the turkey in the shop window, “the one as big as he is,” and bring it to the Cratchits’ house! We love a transformation! And I think we love it, in part, because if we see it play out on the screen, we believe it becomes possible also for us. There is hope for humanity yet!
Unfortunately, my kids still find my preferred version of A Christmas Carol too scary. (I mean, I get it – I used to be convinced, even into my teens, that Marley’s ghost, with all his chains, was going to appear from out of my parents’ bathroom! But I digress.) One of my kids’ favorite movies is The Grinch. Anyone else? This is another story of a dramatic transformation. The movie expands upon the classic Dr. Seuss book, providing a backstory for why “Mr. Grinch” hates Christmas so much. He was emotionally wounded as a child by something that happened on Christmas, and has carried that pain ever since – not unlike Ebenezer Scrooge. It has caused him to pull away from community, and instead, glower down at anyone who dares to be joyful or happy, especially at this time of year that is so painful for him. Indeed, his past trauma has shrunk his heart by two sizes.
Green hair or not, we know what that is like, right, to carry pain from past hurt along with us. We know how it colors the way we see the world! Scrooge knew about that, too!
The Grinch plans to steal Christmas joy from the Whos in Whoville, but his plan fails – instead, he witnesses the people of Whoville holding hands and singing, even without any trees, lights, or presents, just like they do every year. Christmas joy could not be stolen from them, and the Grinch is so moved by this, his heart grows three sizes! The movie adds a layer to the book, saying that the kindness extended by sweet little Cindy Lou Who makes the Grinch brave enough to vulnerably join the Whos in Whoville for their Christmas feast. He is even invited to carve the roast beast. For the first time in his life, the Grinch experiences loving community.
I could go on and on. Christmas movie after beloved Christmas movie tells a similar story: someone is in pain, is struggling, and sometimes even causes others harm because of it. They struggle because of grief, or past hurts, or greed, or pride, or disappointments, or feeling unseen, or any number of other human failings and vulnerabilities. And over the course of the story, they are transformed. Their hearts are turned, or they grow three sizes. They are healed. But this transformation doesn’t come as a result of an expensive gift, or relentlessly jolly music, or even delicious cookies. They are transformed by kindness, by honesty with self and others, by caring… they are transformed by love.
And that, my friends, is the story of Christmas – the real Christmas, the one we celebrate here tonight. That is the story of the incarnation. It is the story of God looking at a world full of people who are struggling and in pain due to grief, pride, disappointments, self-absorption, bitterness and resentment. God looks at them, at us, and knows, whether we know it or not, that we need a transformation. And so to bring that about, God enacts the most profound and powerful sort of love: he comes to dwell with us. Becomes one of us. Has compassion for us by feeling our same pain with us, and walking in our skin, our shoes. Yes, God comes down, and becomes flesh and blood, right alongside our flesh and blood, and in doing so, God loves us, in the most concrete sort of way. As a beloved Christina Rossetti poem says, “Love came down at Christmas, love all lovely, love divine. Love was born at Christmas; star and angels gave the sign.” And this love transforms the world. Transforms us.
Christmas movies tell this story of the incarnation in various, mostly secular ways – a green-haired, grumpy loner, a miserly curmudgeon, a full-sized elf trying to find his birth dad, a kid left home alone, a depressed banker wanting to end his life. And we also have our own stories that paint how we understand Christmas – stories when things went awry, or when we were grieving someone dear to us, or when the most unexpected surprise came our way. But they all point to the same underlying truth: that pain and greed and pride and darkness are a part of life, but they are not the end of the story. They can be overcome by love and light. That transformative love may not change our physical circumstances – nothing changed in Whoville or in 1840s Victorian London – but it does have the power to change us, and grow our hearts. And then we have the eyes to see how, by this love, God is changing the world, both now and hereafter.
I love the words of tonight’s offertory hymn. The last verse says:
Love has come, and never will leave us.
Love is life everlasting and free.
Love is Jesus, within and among us.
Love is the peace our hearts are seeking.
This, you see, is how this gift of love transforms us and the world. It does not leave, no matter how deep our pain. It is everlasting and free, no matter how miserly, grinchy, selfish, or otherwise terrible we are, and it offers us life unlike anything we have previously known or experienced. It brings us peace, because we know we are not left to face the pain alone.
Now, we can do everything in our power, like the Grinch, to stop this gift of love from coming, or we can grumble and complain about it like Scrooge, but that will not stop it from coming. Love will come, has come, and never will leave us.
Where do you see it, tonight, my friends? Where have you seen it this year – this relentless love, coming to be born in our world and in our hearts, coming with the power to transform us? How has that love caused your heart to grow in size? How has it changed your outlook? How is the love come down at Christmas casting light through the cracks of our broken world – and how is that love beckoning you to be a part of that shining light?
I’m sure we will be watching more Christmas movies in the next couple of weeks while the kids are off from school. And I, for one, will be watching for those transformations. And, because stories – whether from the Bible or from Hallmark – often compel us to look also at our own lives, I will also be watching for the ways God’s love, born at Christmas, is working in my own heart this season and throughout the year, to transform me and bring me freedom, peace, inspiration, and the promise of life everlasting.
Let us pray… Incarnate Love, when we are stuck in our own pain and sadness, you come down to be with us. Come to us also this year, and transform us, so that we would see your loving presence among us, and be a part of your saving work. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment