Images for Advent from the Silver Screen - November 30

November 30

Hallmark Christmas Movies

 

Unlike the classic movies of Christmas, such as Meet Me in St. Louisand White Christmas, and the beloved cartoons starring Rudolph and Frosty, the Countdown to Christmas that began on October 23 on the Hallmark Channel is relatively new, having just completed its first decade, but what a decade it’s been. There are three categories of people in this regard: those who have never watched a Hallmark Christmas movie, those who’ve watched one or two and feel as though they’ve seen them all, and those who can’t wait for the channel to kick off the films that bring Christmas to life for them each year.

Those in the first two categories often take on a superior air when the subject comes up, proud to cling to their purity when a Facebook question asks if they’ve ever watched a Hallmark movie. A friend of a friend told of her experience: “Never, NEVER thought I would say this . . . It all started two years ago. I have an elderly client (88) who got me hooked. When I go over for a visit and she has it on, I’m sucked in and can’t leave till it’s over.” Sappy? Yes. Corny? Yes. Obvious, predictable, mindless? Yes, yes, and absolutely. “And yet I love it.” She notes her exhaustion with life’s challenges, and admits: “Watching the Hallmark Christmas movies with precious older people is a nice escape. Wow, admitting that felt good!”

Unlike real life, Hallmark Christmas movies nearly always have a happy ending. Christmas Under Wrapsreminds us, “You can listen to your mind, but you have to follow your heart,” for there is goodness in this world. Perhaps Hallmark Christmas movies do have a purpose, helping us to think on what is lovely, if just for ninety minutes.

 

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. 

Philippians 4:8 (NLT).

Images for Advent from the Silver Screen: November 29

I’ve written a number of advent devotionals over the years as a pastor and author, focusing on prayers (We Hear the Angels), faces (Faces of Advent for Christ-seekers), Christmas carols (Advent Notes for Christ-seekers), and questions (Advent Questions for Christ-seekers), as well as a collection of stories I titled Christmas Memories: Reflections of a Smitten Believer.  This year I'm offering a series of thoughts for Advent that can be read within a few minutes each day. These short essays will draw from images found in a variety of Christmas movies to help us focus on what it means to open our hearts to the celebration of the coming of the Christ child to the world. 

Here is day 1, the first Sunday in Advent.

                                                November 29

Home Alone 2

 

When shopping recently for face masks with a message, one of the few joys of a long-lasting pandemic, I discovered one that said, “Wear your mask, ya filthy animal.” Immediately I thought of the Home Alone movies, as Kevin (Macauley Culkin) watches gangster movies while waiting for his family to come home. In Home Alone 2, the iconic phrase is “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.” Whenever our kids gather together, their conversation is peppered with quotations from movies, including this one, and so of course I had to purchase the masks inspired by that oft-quoted line. 

The imagery from film can impact our understanding of social issues, familial relationships, and even religious thoughts. We do not practice our faith on a desert island, nor do we read the Bible in a vacuum. What we see, hear, and experience can mold our understanding of scripture, our faithful living as a seeker after Jesus. We are impacted by the culture we live within, and images from that environment can expand our faith. 

That’s my hope with these writing – as well as to bring a glimpse of joy as we enter the magic of film and Christmas. Catherine Booth taught us: “Here is the principle – adapt your measures to the necessity of the people to whom you minister. You are to take the Gospel to them in such modes and circumstances as will gain for it from them a hearing.” In the movies we can see and hear the good news of the gospel, even if we might have to look for it a bit.

In Home Alone 2, Kevin reveals his heart and ours as he talks with the desk clerk at the Plaza. “And ma’am, sometimes I do get into mischief. We all do!” Substitute ‘sin’ for ‘mischief,’ and we see ourselves. That’s why Jesus came. That’s the good news of the gospel. 

 

The angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. 

“I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people.”

                                                                Luke 2:10

Jack of All Trades?

rom my column in today's Ashland Times-Gazette

When I was first dating Larry, I arrived at his family’s home to find his mother in tears. “What happened?” I asked. “Margaret died,” she replied. Not recognizing the name, I asked, “Who is that?” “She’s on my story” she answered. Myrtle was a soap opera fan, and she was broken-hearted because one of her characters had met her maker.

One of the more minor struggles of the pandemic is that I’ve been missing my stories. Since filming abruptly concluded in the spring of 2020, it’s taken many months for new episodes of weekly television shows to be produced. Finally, our friends are back. Larry and I are creatures of habit, so on Wednesday nights, we watch the Chicago shows, on Thursday the music of Law and Order SVU beckons us to the television, and on Tuesday nights at 9, we join millions in viewing “This Is Us.” Yes, we have become our parents, absent the nightly bowl of ice cream.

On “This is Us,” Jack Pearson told Rebecca that his dad used to call him “jack of all trades.” As a kid, Jack was pleased with the label, but he came to understood that his dad didn’t see that designation in a positive light, and the associated label, “master of none” became a burden Jack carried for years. I’ve been thinking about that in recent days. I follow a history professor on social media, and I am so in awe of her expertise. Heather Cox Richardson speaks about current events in thoughtful ways, weaving in the lessons of history with ease. Reconstruction, the New Deal, the Civil War, oh, and did I mention what Johnson did in 1965? How I wish I had her depth of knowledge and her expertise.

My high school friend Susan is a concert pianist in Sweden. I play hymns, and “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” from “Frozen” for my grandkids. Robert, another high school friend, is an accomplished surgeon. The closest I come to medical skills is the placement of Band-aids on skinned knees – with plenty of Nana kisses.

Obviously, our individual abilities depend on a variety of circumstances. Born with a genetic predisposition toward music, music is in the air in the home of a budding musician, and instruments offer the opportunity to explore the magical notes. Throw in parental provisions for weekly lessons and supervision of daily practice sessions, a willingness to give up other interests, a strong work ethic, a good dose of talent and an even greater dose of fortune, and maybe Carnegie Hall becomes a reality. Remove even one of those factors, and we’re playing in a garage band at age forty.

This is not a “feel sorry for me or tell me how talented I am” plea for affirmation. Nor am I wallowing in envy, for I try daily to heed Thomas Browne’s counsel: “Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks.” Instead, I sit in awe of how uniquely different we each are, “fearfully and wonderfully made” as the Psalmist suggests.

The apostle Paul recognized the importance of bringing together people with a variety of gifts under the umbrella of faith. In I Corinthians 12, he compares this concept to the body, reminding us of this: “If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? It the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be?” Yes, Paul says, we each bring value to the body.

This principle extends to groups of all kinds, in families, workplaces, social media platforms, and communities. Like the villagers in Stone Soup, we offer what we have to each other, the gift of music, the ability to heal, the skill to weave historical stories into the reality of today. And like Jack Pearson, jack of all trades, we love our family fiercely, draw out greatness in each other, and cast dreams far into the future.

Richard Rohr suggests we discover places of sharing where hearts and bread can be broken and passed around, places where Band-aids heal, stories connect, and music brings joy. Whether our skill set runs deep or wide, it is enough to give what is in our hands.

Fat Turkeys

Thanksgiving 2020 news flash: too many fat turkeys! When projecting the market for Thanksgiving turkeys in early 2020, turkey farmers had to estimate the number of birds needed for holiday dinner tables. What percentage should be 12-16 pounds, what percentage 20-24 pounds?

 

It’s already been a tough year for those seeking their fortunes in turkeys. With college food service limited and few state fairs or Renaissance festivals wanting turkey legs, demand has been down. Now, the call for smaller gatherings for Thanksgiving is challenging the turkey supply chain. 

 

The Washington Post spoke with Ariane Daguin, who founded D’Artagnan, a premium meat company, and her words feel prophetic. “Some people have gone down to a duck or goose, but still, when you’re talking about Thanksgiving this year, a huge majority of Americans will stick with turkey. Everything is falling apart, so we cling to tradition.”

 

In “Fiddler on the Roof,” Tevye reminds us that “because of our traditions, we’ve kept our balance for many, many years . . . You may ask, how did this tradition start? I’ll tell you – I don’t know. But it’s a tradition.” He concludes, “Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as . . . as a fiddler on the roof.”

 

Tradition often takes a bad rap. A favorite story tells of a family who traditionally cut off the end of the holiday ham, and when the reason was traced back through the generations, they discovered it was because in the late 1800s, the only available pan was too small to hold the entire ham. That’s the origin of some traditions. 

 

Traditions have value as they help connect to those who have gone before us. When we sing a sixteenth-century hymn in the midst of a congregation, we are surrounded by “a great cloud of witnesses” who also believed that “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing.” When we use grandma Jones’ recipe for pumpkin pie or nibble at Aunt Charlotte’s corn casserole, we trace our heritage through traditional favorites, cooked with love.

 

While a struggle, sometimes we must let go of traditions for a bit. It’s a different holiday, but in “A Christmas Story” Ralphie and his family salivate over the turkey roasting in the oven, and are devastated when it’s stolen by a pack of ravenous dogs. Yet their visit to a Chinese restaurant on Christmas day provides viewers with one of the funniest scenes in a film that has, in itself, become a holiday tradition in millions of households. 

 

It's traditional to gather together on Thanksgiving. We usually watch the Detroit Lions lose, we clasp hands to pray, and we eat way too much. Yet this year, too many of us are having to say, “I love you too much to risk being together right now.” It’s horrible to be the one who says this to a beloved grandmother or our favorite bachelor uncle who will otherwise be alone, but as infection rates rise dangerously across the nation and in our Ohio backyard, these may be the most loving words and actions we can offer to each other.  

 

These are difficult days. These are difficult choices. Others will disagree with our decisions. But, as our immediate family has decided, we would rather look forward to gathering around a post-COVID Thanksgiving table with a fat turkey in 2021 than to risk spreading this lethal virus to those we hold dear. 

 

In the holiday film “Meet Me in St. Louis,” the Smith family was faced with an unwelcome move to New York. To console her little sister Tootie, Esther (Judy Garland) plaintively sings Hugh Martin and Ralph Blaine’s composition: “Someday soon we all will be together if the fates allow, until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow.”

 

I’m claiming Mr. Rogers’ words for these muddling days. “Some days, doing ‘the best we can’ may still fall short of what we would like to be able to do, but life isn’t perfect on any front – and doing what we can with what we have is the most we should expect of ourselves – or anyone else.” Especially when what we can do is motivated by love.

 

 

Yellow Lady-bugs and the Corona

The lovely Madelyn Simone and the delightful and determined Elizabeth Holiday had an overnight visit at Nana and Pop-Pop’s house this past weekend. We’ve been a “bubble” since May, as the adults in our family made that decision after weeks of waving to each other through the picture windows of our houses. No other sleepovers for them, no playdates, no babysitters, no trips to the mall, no free samples at Sam’s Club – spending the night at the grandparents is the extent of their social lives. At five, Lizzie is thrilled; at ten, Madelyn is still glad to come. I’m grateful.

 

My weekend conversations with Lizzie were enlightening. Her favorite subject is math – good for her. She plays noodle tag in gym, using pool noodles to keep kindergarten children six feet apart. Brilliant! She explained to me that you can get the ‘rona from yellow lady-bugs – knowledge gleaned from her kindergarten friends. And ghosts and zombies are real. When I offered an alternate viewpoint, she was quite insistent – no, they really are real.

 

From Elizabeth’s perspective, if someone tells her something is true, then it is. She doesn’t yet have the intellectual capacity to consider the evidence for herself. I’m a bit put-out, because after her parents, I’ve been a leading source of information in her life, and now I’m out to pasture, replaced by kindergarten experts and paranormal documentaries. But I know that over time, she’ll learn about the scientific method and the principles of geometric proofs, that list of statements and the reasons we know those statements are true. I knew I’d use tenth grade geometry one day. She’ll also learn how to determine the source of information, and will understand that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

 

In the late 90s, I took a class where we often discussed postmodernity, worth a google if you’re unfamiliar with the term. At the end of the 20^thcentury, our first world culture was shifting from the science-based absolute truth of modernity to the relative truth of postmodernity. Our class focus was on the movement from a belief in the long-held tenets of religion to the assumption that anything goes spiritually – your truth is as good and as valid as my truth. That loss of absolute truth was in the realm of philosophy and religion, not necessarily science, math or elections. 

 

As rumors of widespread election fraud are churning, I wonder, what is true? What is the source of these rumors? What evidence is being presented? And how does this fit in with my experience? Last question first. I stood in line to vote at the board of elections with other Ohio citizens. My neighbors from both the right and left persuasion searched for my name, verified my ID and signature, and checked me off the list. Other Ohioans, both R and D, counted my vote. Mail in ballots required ID verification, double envelopes to prevent tampering, two locks on the storage room door (red and blue keys), and separate machines for scanning and tabulating the votes. No internet-based tabulation was used (take that, Russian hackers). Seems like it would be easier to steal a Browns’ playbook than a vote.

 

As for my other questions, call me old-fashioned, but the maxim to “consider the source” has served me well over the course of a lifetime. I was deeply formed by tenth grade geometry and biology to logically follow the evidence to the truth, which I believed did exist and could be found. I am still that person, as evidenced by my determination to follow the evidence to get to the bottom of dubious social media claims. Inquiring minds still want to know. Yes, there can be shades of gray, but at the end of the day, Elvis is still dead, and the zombie apocalypse only happens in imagination, no matter what Elizabeth believes. I’ve concluded that our voting system, with its numerous checks and balances, can be trusted. Now, as long as I stay away from those COVID-spreading yellow ladybugs, all shall be well.