I’m not a praying man or much of a churchgoer, to begin with. Still, I love Christmas. Not all the commercial stuff attached to it. That’s nothing more than what a barnacle is to a boat, not its magic. The magic is what the Christmas season does to us, how it slows us down, gets us to set aside workaday concerns, makes us a little more patient with each other, gentler, kinder. Even if the effect is only momentary, it’s remarkable.
I love the storytelling Christmas inspires. My favorite movie has to be Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I’ve lost count how many times I’ve seen it, must be north of 50. Never gets old. The finest story I’ve ever read might just be Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” Favorite song? Oh man, that’s tough, could be any one of a thousand, depends on the mood. Around this time of year, Jackson Browne’s “The Rebel Jesus” cries out.
“All the streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season
And the merchants’ windows are all bright
With the faces of the children
And the families hurrying to their homes
As the sky darkens and freezes
Will be gathering around their hearths and tables
Giving thanks for God’s graces
And the birth of the rebel Jesus
And they call Him by the ‘Prince Of Peace’
And they call Him by ‘The Savior’
And they pray to Him upon the seas
And in every bold endeavor
And they fill His churches with their pride and gold
As their faith in Him increases
But they’ve turned the nature that I worship in
From a temple to a robber’s den
In the words of the rebel Jesus
We guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year when Christmas comes
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if anyone of us should interfere
In the business of why there are poor
They get the same as the rebel Jesus
But pardon me if I have seemed
To take the tone of judgment
For I’ve no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment
In a life of hardship and of earthly toil
There’s a need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan
On the side of the rebel Jesus“
Speaking of taking sides, the battle of wills between public-spirited George Bailey and greedy Mr. Potter in “It’s a Wonderful Life” is as relevant as ever with class divisions and cultural tensions at a full boil in our day and age. The storyline of one man’s absence causing idyllic Bedford Falls to transform into the nightmarish Pottersville resonates as much now as it did when the film was made more than three-quarters of a century ago.
It’s hard to see “It’s a Wonderful Life” as anything but an indictment of warped values putting commercialism above community. Those values are much more deeply embedded in today’s America than they were in Capra’s day and age.
The movie’s religious themes are not subtle, even though George Bailey admits – in a prayer, ironically enough – that he is not a praying man. “It’s a Wonderful Life” tells a story of divine intervention prompted by the prayers of friends, family and admirers of George’s as he considers taking his own life.
George’s nemesis Potter is a heartless money-grubber but a tame caricature of today’s predatory profiteers who’ve done gruesome violence to modern-day versions of the Bailey family business. Seeing Potter on the screen brings to mind Dickens’ words on the page, the ghost of Jacob Marley imploring his one-time business partner Ebenezer Scrooge to change his ways.
“‘Business!’ cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. ‘Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!’”
Dickens handed down that indictment of warped values in 1843; Capra issued his in 1946. Both cases still await prosecution. All these years later, America feels more and more like Pottersville or the gaslit alleys of Dickensian London.
What a better country America would be if our predominant values were the ones we all were taught in kindergarten. Share. Take turns and play fair. Don’t hit. Say you’re sorry when you hurt someone. Don’t take things that aren’t yours. Clean up your mess.
Sandbox values that all come down to this: Treat others how you’d like to be treated. The spirit of Christmas synthesized to a single phrase. One worth holding in our hearts and keeping all the year.
Mike McCabe is a Wisconsin native and has been a farmhand, journalist, educator and civic leader. He is the author of the novel, “Miracles Along County Q,” and keeps an online journal at mikemccabe.substack.com where he shares weekly essays.
