Homily for
the First Sunday after Christmas 27 December 2015
What has come into being in him was life. John
1:3b-4a
Is it really “a wonderful life”?
That’s the question journalist Wendell Jamieson raises. He’s talking, of course, about It’s a Wonderful Life, Frank Capra’s 1946 holiday season staple.
Now, truth-in-advertising: Holiday staple it may be, it’s not to everyone’s taste. Hard to believe, I know. But, in the interests of full disclosure, I liked It’s a Wonderful Life the first couple of times around. And then, with increased exposure year after year after tinsel-spiked year, I began to find the ending ― especially the line “Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings” (cue ting-a-ling from a bell on the creeping-cheer Christmas tree) ― I just find all that to be sufficiently saccharine as to rot one’s teeth.
And yet, if you ― like me ― consider your TV remote a bionic extension of your arm, the past few days and spilling into the coming week, click away as you may, you can run from It’s a Wonderful Life but you can’t hide. It will find you out!
Now, on the off-chance you've been in media lockdown for roughly the last half-century or so, It’s a Wonderful Life stars James Stewart as George Bailey. After repeatedly trying ― and failing ― to abandon his underwhelming hometown of Bedford Falls in order to pursue his dreams out in the wider world, George thinks his life is nothing short of a disaster. He looks in the mirror and all he sees is “Loser.”
So, in a fit of exquisite timing ─ not! ─ on Christmas Eve, no less, he attempts to take his own life … appropriately at the falls of Bedford Falls fame.
George’s flirtation with suicide gains the attention of his guardian angel-of-questionable-competence, Clarence Odbody.
Spoiler alert: In church-type circles, we talk a lot about “saving your life by losing it.” But, in order to save George’s life by not losing it, Clarence helps him reframe his life by showing George a series of “what if” alternate universes: “what if” roads-not-traveled that show what Bedford Falls and the lives of those who actually have been touched by George would have been like had George never lived.
It’s Clarence Goodbody’s revenge on Ebenezer Scrooge, who is invited by a similar spirit, of sorts, to see how dreadfully things will turn out if Scrooge’s life continues on its course. Grim.
Well, what Clarence reveals ─ by George’s absence, his very nonexistence ─ isn’t pretty either. And it’s a wake-up call for George. As a result, channeling Susan “I Want To Live” Hayward, he calls off the suicide and ― in a “Merry-God-bless-us-everyone-Christmas” of tears and cheers ― George concludes that, yes, all things considered, “it’s a wonderful life!”
But is it? Is George Bailey’s life a “wonderful life” after all?
That’s what Wendell Jamieson asks. What’s his answer? “Wonderful? It’s a pitiful, dreadful life”! because, Jamieson suggests, “It’s a Wonderful Life is a terrifying, asphyxiating story of living among bitter, small-minded people … a story of being trapped, of compromising, of watching others move ahead and away, of becoming so filled with rage that you verbally abuse your children and your oppressively perfect wife.”
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?
What’s fueling Jamieson’s jaundiced view of this red-letter day icon?
Well, all that abusive behavior, for one.
Then there’s the economy. In the “what if” scenario ― without George around ― Bedford Falls is renamed Pottersville ― not after Harry Potter, but the scheming, Bernard Madoff-type banker named Mr. Potter, played to the snarling teeth by Lionel Barrymore.
Who can deny, Jamieson points out, that alternate-universe Pottersville ― with its smoke-heavy nightclubs packed with raucous gamblers and “boogie-woogie” showgirls ― is infinitely more interesting, and ─ like the casino towns of Connecticut ─ more profitable than former manufacturing towns like Bedford Falls … and Malden?
Disclaimer: This isn’t a pitch for gambling! But if you go in for 40s-era Vegas-style fun and a booming service economy, Pottersville wins hands down over Bedford Falls.
What’s more, Jamieson alerts us to something the film fails to tell us. In real-life Bedford Falls, before he heads for the bridge to end it all, George commits a bit of bank fraud. Even though the shortfall is eventually covered by his friends, George is still liable to prosecution and just might end up serving time. That is, if you rob a bank and later return the money, you’re still guilty of robbing the bank. This plot hole gets under Jamieson’s skin.
But to enjoy the film, it’s best not to get tripped up on this anomaly, because immunity from prosecution adds one more outcome ─ intended or not ─ to the wonders of George Bailey’s so-called wonderful life … a wonderful life that answers ─ for George ─ the question the movie consequently puts to each of us: Would the world be better off if you hadn’t been born?
Great question. But this is the Christmas season. And the birth we continue to celebrate is Jesus’ birth, not George Bailey’s, and not our own. So, we could ask, “What kind of a world would this be if Christ had never been born?”
But as Liza Minnelli says when she’s asked to sing her mother’s signature tune, “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” “It’s been done.” In other words, the question (“What kind of a world would this be if Jesus had never been born?”), it’s been done. A lot of people have explored this already.
Their conclusion? Along with all the positives ― the great charitable enterprises of the Church (the hospitals, ministries, and justice work) … and the great conversion stories like Francis of Assisi … and complex stories like Mother Theresa of Calcutta (who, it turns out, experienced dark nights of the soul) ― along with all that, you get the downside: the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the Salem Witch Trials.
So the verdict on what kind of a world would it be “if Jesus had never been born” is decidedly mixed. No news on that front.
But to reframe the question by narrowing it, chances are there’s another, more immediate question no one has answered: What about your life? What kind of person would you be … if Jesus had never been born?
What would be your values and priorities?
What would you do with your money?
What would you do with your time?
What would your relationships be like? Who would you hang around with? Whom would you love? Who would love you?
What people just wouldn’t matter to you?
Add it all up and my hunch is, it’s a less-than-ideal “what if.” Read: a not-so-wonderful life.
The good news is, it’s our conviction that Jesus was ― in fact ― born!
Good news: God ― in fact ― chose to live ― in Jesus ― a chaotic, painful, dangerous, edgy, free, far-from saccharine wonderfully human life!
The angel did ― in fact ― bring “good news of great joy to all people”! … because to you … to you … to YOU … “is born in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
To you!
Bottomline: It’s not always about you or any one of us. And yet, what difference ― because Jesus was, in fact, born ― “born to you a Savior” ─ what difference does Jesus’ birth make … to you?
Are you better off ― not well-off ― but better off ― better off living an abundant life of purpose and challenge and creativity and possibilities, hope, healing, and fulfillment?
Are your neighbors ― those you know, like the people next door, as well as your neighbors on the far perimeter of your radar ― are all your neighbors better off … because Jesus has been born … to you?
Is your family, this community, the world, this planet, better off because Jesus Christ has been born … to you?
In other words, are you more tolerant of others different from you?
Are you more likely to identify with and help people less fortunate than you?
Are you more ready to ask, “What can I do to make life more bearable, more abundant, more just for the neighbors God has sent my way?” … because, as John the Evangelist attests, “What has come into being in him ─ in Jesus ─ was life, and the life was the light of all people.”
Bottomline: What, as a result of your encounter with the Babe of Bethlehem, prompts you ― with all your family and friends and neighbors of all stripes to say ― because of that First Christmas … because of this Christmas reborn in you … “It is a wonderful life”?
Amen!