The beginning of It’s A Wonderful Life lets us in on prayers lifted to God for George. Viewers are then given an overview of George’s life, leading up to the awful mistake that his uncle Billy made with the year-end deposit. George sought help from Mr. Potter – his rival and the only person with enough wealth to help. Mr. Potter was accidentally handed the missing deposit – Uncle Billy’s innocent mistake – yet George took responsibility. Instead of showing compassion – on Christmas Eve – Mr. Potter called the police, issuing a warrant for George’s arrest for embezzlement. Desperate, George considered taking his own life so that his life insurance policy might save the Building and Loan. That’s when he meets Clarence and gets to see what the world would be like had he never been born.
Once he realized how wonderful his life was, he prayed to live again. When his prayer was answered, he was overjoyed, running like a fool through the town, all the way home to be with the people he loved the most – his wife and kids. He was certain he would be arrested, but his joy could not be squelched. He soon discovered that Mary made some phone calls to many of George’s friends. Soon, these friends flowed into George’s house to offer their support in an old-fashioned Go Fund Me campaign. Sam Wainwright telegrammed to offer more than three times the amount needed to satisfy the books. Harry even flew through a storm to be with his brother at his time of need. Overwhelming support came in, so much so that the arrest warrant was ripped to shreds. It’s a beautiful scene.
Most of these folks had accounts at the Building and Loan after – it was their money that was missing. Why did the people come through for George in his time of need? Why didn’t they bring torches and pitchforks instead, given the word on the street about his alleged malfeasance? The reason is obvious throughout the story. George frequently put the needs of others before his own. George valued people for more than what they offered him. He may have been a banker by profession, but as a human being, he was not a transactional guy. He genuinely cared and they knew it. When word came around, nobody bought Mr. Potter’s story because they knew George’s heart and character. All they heard was that George was in trouble, and they rose to the occasion out of love for a man they knew and trusted. Harry raised a glass and made a toast to his big brother, “the richest man in town!” Not literally, of course, but because of the love and support he had from his friends. He heard a bell ring on his Christmas tree and noticed the book, Tom Sawyer, on his table with an inscription from Clarence: “no one is a failure who has friends.”
Relationship is everything. George based his decisions not on what others deserved, but on who he was, which was a person who lived his life motivated and guided by love. The people he loved were everyday folk who didn’t have a chance to own their own home apart from the Building and Loan. They were not people of position or title. Some had an ethnic heritage that brought with it racial discrimination. Some, like Mr. Gower, deserved anything but grace after nearly killing a customer and smacking George on his sore ear. George loved unconditionally, which literally strengthened the community and buoyed everyone in their time of need.
The Christmas story had this element in it as well. Mary found support from her cousin, Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist. Imagine the supportive conversations they enjoyed? In Bethlehem there was no room, but someone offered what little space they still had – a cave-barn – where Jesus was born. Soon after, shepherds came to tell their experience of the heavenly host. Eventually wealthy men from the East came with precious gifts to the one born under a new star that somehow served as a GPS coordinate. People showing up for people, sharing their stories, increasing everyone’s perspective and experience.
The author of Luke’s gospel was especially focused on the underdogs, the overlooked, and the underrepresented of his day. That’s why readers notice more women being represented than the other gospels. Women were vulnerable. So were the extremely poor, like the shepherds working the graveyard shift, and those forced to shelter in a dung-filled-barn-delivery-room. Luke wanted us to recognize that God was purposefully including and loving people who are usually excluded. Despite popular opinion supporting the false notion that material wealth indicated greater favor from God, the actual God of love chose to communicate expansive, radical love toward the key characters. Who could predict it? Nobody.
Jesus, being filled with the Spirit of that same God, was motivated and guided by that same expansive love. He befriended anyone and everyone, often raising eyebrows in the process. His fierce love inherently challenged those who did not live motivated by the same Spirit. Some of these conspired to work together to get Jesus arrested, tortured, and killed. Expansive love is sometimes as unnerving to some as it is inspiring to others.
Jesus was not a lone ranger, either. He invested himself in the lives of disciples and the regular folk of every community he visited. He chose to teach and learn in community because that’s where we learn the most. His disciples learned how to love well, taking his message far beyond Jesus’ original audience. They became known as people of The Way who welcomed all around the table as equals, emphasizing grace as their North Star. Relationship is everything because love requires relationship to be fully realized. You can only learn so much about love in textbooks. Real love is risked with others, reciprocated by others, for the sake of love itself. In the end, love is the only thing that really matters, and being the primary nature of God, is the only thing that lives forever. You’ve heard it said that nobody on their deathbed wishes that they’d spent more time at work. We all want to express love and be surrounded by love. Love compels us to want that for everyone.
Who has shown you supportive love in your life? How can you offer thanks to them and for them? They may be dead – you can still give thanks – it will further fill your heart with love. Who do you love easily? How will you show them deep love this Christmas? How might you embody love wherever you go like Jesus did? Is it possible that we can make a loving impact through our relationships with everyone we meet? Love is not pie. When we choose to give away love, it does not mean there is less for ourselves or anyone else. The opposite is true. When we choose to love, we end up with more love.
The least likely actors to get roles in the original Christmas Pageant became fiercely loving. We are still talking about it because they got it and did it.
George was overcome by love when everything was falling apart. Love replaced his fear and desperation with pure joy. The opportunity to express love by his friends created a miracle as the house filled with love and laughter.
Could it be that coming to grips with how much we have been loved and expressing genuine love toward others is what we all need more of? How will you respond to love’s invitation today?
Arab-American poet Naomi Shihab Nye recalls a transformative, unexpected occasion of generous acceptance (copied from the The Center for Action and Contemplation daily reading, Thursday, December 14, 2023):
“Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal … I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.”
Well—one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. “Help,” said the flight service person. “Talk to her.… We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”
I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke to her haltingly. “Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment.… I said, “No, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just later, who is picking you up? Let’s call him.”
We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother … and would ride next to her.… She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I thought … why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her? This all took up about two hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life, patting my knee, answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamoolcookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie.
And then the airline broke out free beverages … two little girls from our flight ran around serving us all apple juice and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”
May God inspire us to love expansively in relationships of many kinds this Christmas.