Encore
I want to begin by admitting I despise that “Christmas Shoes” song that is in such heavy rotation again on the radio. I used to say 
that it was the worst song ever recorded, but since Gwen Stefani has released a hip-hop version of the “Lonely Goatherd” song, I’m afraid it comes in second in my book. If you haven’t heard it (how would such a thing be possible?), it is about a kid at a department store begging strangers to help him pay for a pair of shoes he’s picked out for his mother who is dying on Christmas Eve, and he wants his mom looking fine so she can get into heaven. It is pure emetic.
And so I have been at work formulating a response. I’ve started by changing the words of the chorus from “Sir I want to buy these shoes for my mamma please,” to “Sir I want to buy these shoes, want to buy these Jimmy Choos,” (at least my version rhymes). Also, if I can find the address of the boy in the song I’d like to say two things to him. The first is that no man in his right mind would pick out a pair of shoes for any woman. If you want to buy a gift, your best bet would be earrings, understated and expensive (especially expensive). Second I would like to tell him that one enters heaven because of the blood of Jesus Christ, not on account of designer footwear.
Now, I’m not above breaking down in tears over a bit of well-earned treacle. I still can’t watch “Old Yeller,” or “The Yearling.” I’m not a Grinch either. Perhaps this season, more than any other, floods the senses with heart-wrenching moments. A few of the ones that lump up in my throat are:
*When every Who down in Whoville sings without any presents at all
*When Linus tells Charlie Brown what Christmas is all about
*When the boy finds that his snowman has melted (this is the Raymond Briggs
Snowman – I don’t care much for Frosty)
*When the Velveteen Rabbit sheds a single tear
*When anything happens in Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”
*When Harry Bailey toasts his big brother George as “the richest man in town”
*When Ralphie shoots himself in the eye with his BB gun (that lump is
actually choking from uncontrolled laughter)
*When John Boy Walton, holding his stack of Red Chief writing pads, says to
his Daddy, “I guess that Santa is a right smart man”
*When John Payne and Maureen O’Hara look over and see Ed Gwynn’s
cane leaning in the corner of the empty house.
And there are many others, it’s just that there’s an even greater amount of drivel, and the deficit seems to increase every year.
Of course others share this sentiment, and bemoan the fact that we’ve lost the true meaning of Christmas. But the truth of the matter is that Christmas has always been a Saturnalia – an excuse for consumption, and bad taste. Jesus never asked for us to observe it, and the New Testament never commands it.
And yet, a lot of truth gets through. Even a broken clock tells the correct time twice a day.
There are these two moments in two different black-and-white classics that remind us a lot about prayer. The first is from “The Bishops Wife.” Henry (the Bishop) is trying to raise funds to build a Cathedral, and prays for help. He receives Dudley the Angel. When Dudley succeeds in getting the funds released - not for a Cathedral, but for benevolence and evangelism, Henry believes his prayers were not answered. Dudley replies “No, Henry – you prayed for guidance, and that has been given to you.” Point taken. Be careful what you pray for, you will get it. Are we prepared for “thy will be done?”
The second is from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” George Bailey’s suicide attempt has been thwarted by the intervention of Clarence the Angel who gives him a glimpse of what the world would be like without him. The way we know we have entered into this fantasy-world is that it has stopped snowing. When George decides that he wants to live again, he asks and asks Clarence to take him back – with no effect. Then he prays “Please Lord” and the snow starts to fall again.
I choke up even typing this. It is an amazing thing that we have, at every moment, the ear of a caring Lord, is it not?
