I have always been a fan of Frank Capra’s film, It’s a Wonderful Life. The movie wasn’t very popular when it first released. It did win an Oscar, but only for their snow-making innovation. I remember in the 1980’s, as cable television was emerging, that one network played the movie 24/7 for weeks leading up to Christmas. People began to bemoan it. At some point, NBC bought the rights to the film and showed it only once, building it up for weeks, and invited celebrities to share their favorite scenes. It was a huge hit. Yet, regardless of the culture’s fickleness, it has remained one of my favorite movies of all time, and, given the number of times I’ve viewed it (and still look forward to viewing it again), let’s just call it my #1. There is so much good material in the story that I think it deserves a teaching series this Advent – my 25th at CrossWalk!
However, there are some disclaimers that I think deserve mentioning before we inch forward. Varying levels of cringe exist in this film. In no particular order, here’s a list off the top of my head (please add your own):
· Cosmology. This may not make others’ lists, but it makes me cringe: Angels are talking stars or constellations in the “heavens above”. A literal heaven is called upon to help George Bailey in his time of need. Clarence is called to serve. When he explains to George that he is an angel sent to help, George rightly snickers that he is just the sort of angel he deserved – more bad luck. As a fan and advocate of Open and Relational Theology (ORT), I don’t believe that God is “up there” but rather everywhere. Literal angels are problematic, too, as this seems quite unnatural and also interventionist, two red flags that would be waived by ORT. Yet let me say clearly that while I disagree with the still popular cosmology depicted in the movie, I absolutely believe that God is present to and with us, and constantly responds to and in our lives. As a pastor trying to help people unravel limiting theological paradigms, this doesn’t sit well in my stomach. Sigh.
· Misogyny. This film was released in 1946 and serves as a time capsule of that period. Unfortunately, women are depicted almost entirely as supporting roles in a man’s world. George’s friend, Violet, is valued mainly for her looks. George’s mother is forced to run a boarding house because no man could provide for her in her old age. And poor Mary, without George being born, was destined to be a pitied librarian. Oh, the horror! Capra reflected his time in history which did not view men and women as equals. Yet it should be noted that Mary was in many ways George’s partner, eventually saving the day and keeping her husband from arrest and likely imprisonment. Women are viewed as objects in other ways as well, mostly valued for their sexuality, especially depicted by the character of Violet. While some of her scenes are genuinely funny as she works the power that she has to her advantage, it still must be noted that her power largely was born from her ability to leverage her sexuality. Sigh.
· Racism. The film is a mixed big on the racism front. On the plus side, George and Mary are viewed celebrating the new home ownership by an Italian immigrant family. This might not seem like a big deal today, but in that time, Italians suffered discrimination along with other Southern European descendants. This sentiment was reflected in Mr. Potter’s calling such folks “garlic eaters”. Capra gets a point for inclusion. But the film is dated in its treatment of African Americans. George’s family has a housekeeper, Annie, who is black. While apparently treated like family, she is still in the role of servant. Also, some intersectionality shows up as Harry, George’s younger brother, gives Annie a slap on the rear in his excitement about the Prom. A seriously cringeworthy scene, regardless of how lovingly she appears to be treated otherwise, or her affection toward the family at the end of the movie. Sigh.
· Violence against children. Mr. Gower would have been locked up, regardless of his emotional state that contributed to his smacking young George on the side of his head. Repeatedly. Whenever I watch this scene, I want to jump into the TV and tackle the old Pharmacist and give George a hug. George is understanding in the moment – very mature for his age – but the act not only reflected that time in history when corporal punishment was normal, it served to perpetuate it. Inflicting physical violence on anyone is bad. On kids? Deplorable. Sigh.
There are other, smaller issues as well. As I consider the above anachronistic offenses, should I reconsider my decision to build an Advent series from such a source? Should we “cancel” the film from our Christmas repertoire? It’s tempting. And popular. Lots of books and films and people have been “canceled” for less. Yet the truth is that the birth narratives of Jesus as depicted in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke have cancel-worthy issues on their own, including the following:
· Incongruency. Critical details in Matthew and Luke simply don’t match each other and cannot be reconciled. Luke tells a story about a young, engaged Galilean couple who journey to Bethlehem for a Census – just in time for Jesus to be born. Matthew depicts that couple as having lived in Bethlehem from the start. A simple fact check calls the story into question. Sigh.
· Translation and Eisegesis. Matthew, written with a Jewish audience in mind, wanted to make a strong case for Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah using prophetic fulfillment as a chief tool. The author quotes Isaiah 7:14 – a virgin shall be with child – as a way of proving that Jesus was miraculously conceived and thus holy from the beginning. Unfortunately, the author of the account used a Greek translation of Isaiah instead of Hebrew, which read “young woman” – not virgin. Matthew put the focus on the conception, when the original focus was on time: God was saying through Isaiah that things were going to get better by the time that one of the King’s daughters gave birth. No immaculate conception required. How much has this mistranslation screwed things up? This was a clear case of Matthew hijacking scripture for his own mission. Sigh.
· Cosmology. One reason Jewish people rejected Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah when the Gospels were written is the birth narratives themselves. The increasingly Gentile audience welcomed a demigod Jesus since such a notion aligned with their Greek-and-Roman-mythology-informed theologies. But the idea of a demigod was anathema for Jews. The fact that Matthew and Luke were finally compiled and distributed after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE wiped out any proof-texting Matthew provided. The Temple’s destruction invalidated Jesus’ claim as the anointed one who would restore Jews to strength and dominance, and penal substitutionary atonement became moot at the same time as Judaism moved away from such a system of attaining God’s favor. Sigh.
· Rape, Adultery, or Both? Mary is celebrated as a heroin in Luke’s birth narrative as she welcomes what is going to happen to her, which she apparently has no control over. In essence, she is going to be impregnated by an unwelcome guest. Is this rape? And since she is legally bound to Joseph, does this also qualify as adultery? All part of God’s will? I love Mary’s Song as much as anyone, but that doesn’t take away from the plain facts of the text. Sigh.
· Misogyny. The Christmas Story is a time capsule. Women are considered property even if they are celebrated as in Luke’s story. Sigh.
· Hospitality. Luke’s version paints a picture of a truly incredible – not credible – lack of hospitality among the residents of Bethlehem. Small village as it was, in such a part of the world where the hospitality ethic loomed large, there is no way that a pregnant woman going into labor would be rejected shelter. Pinocchio alert! Sigh.
In light of the above, should we cancel the Gospels? Should we cancel Christmas? Many people have, for the reasons stated above. That’s fair. Their choice.
I wonder if the very reason we might cancel these two stories – Capra’s and the Christianity’s – is why we should keep considering them. Our culturally-derived inclination to wholly reject that which is imperfect goes too far, arrogantly dismissing and disrespecting our human ancestors in context. When we make such an error, we inadvertently cancel ourselves, for who can say that their story is flawless? Who has a crystal ball that can go into the future and say that there were no cringeworthy scenes in the reels of our lives?
This is no way is to excuse that which is inexcusable. Don’t read that. Read this: both stories communicate that something beautiful happened – is happening – even as ugliness is also happening. That’s real. That’s the story of our flawed, cringy lives. That’s why these stories offer hope. When we reflect on what those stories offer, we can live truly authentically with ourselves, knowing hope is with us even though not everything is good. It also may foster the capacity to view others more graciously as well when we embrace the reality that we are all mixed bags, all varying degrees of matter and spirit. When we fashion our eyes accordingly, we may be able to see that it’s a wonderful life despite the difficult seasons and difficult people along the way who often command the spotlight of our attention. May this series help prepare our eyes for this year’s coming of Christ in new ways in your life and in our world.
Process Questions.
1. What are your first reactions to the film, It’s a Wonderful Life? How was it embraced – or not – by those around you?
2. How were the birth narratives of Jesus presented to you? How has your relationship with the stories evolved over the years?
3. How have you witnessed cancel culture? When do you think it is justified? When is it not?
4. Should you be canceled? Why or why not?
5. How have you been influenced by culture’s demand for perfection as you view others? As you view yourself?
6. When have you been able to appreciate or respect the reality that we are all mixed bags of dirt and spirit? What affect has such a realization had on you? How does it inform hope?
Matthew 1:18-2:1 NRSV
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea...
Luke 2:1-7 NRSV
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.