I already know this topic is going to be controversial. So, if you are going to leave a comment with YOUR opinion, do it NICELY. Or else. Enough said. Don’t make me come over there.
Christmas movies have the ability (for me) to make, or break, the season. I’m not going to mention certain movies, because I know my husband will. And I’m not wasting my word quota with their titles. Let’s just say the kind of movies I enjoy at Christmas-time are It’s a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street. I can handle A Muppet Christmas Carol, or Elf or Family Man. I CANNOT deal with some of the other choices. Movies that people near and dear to me love. And there is more than one of them.
I love watching Jimmy Stewart run down Main Street in the snow, I love “Hee Haw”, I deplore Old Man Potter. There is nothing more satisfying on a cold winter night than watching It’s a Wonderful Life with the lights of the Christmas tree reflecting on the TV screen.
Another new favorite in our family is Polar Express. Yes, it's about Santa and the North Pole, but it's about a lot more than that.
I do not want to hear about how “Fragile” is Italian or watch small children eat their food like piggies at the trough. And Chevy Chase does not belong anywhere near Christmas.
It was around December of 1991. My friends said to me: “
The movie? “A Christmas Story.” For those who are not familiar with that film: it’s a story about a boy named Ralphy. He’s about 10 years old, blonde hair, glasses. And he’s a terror. He’s disrespectful, he’s got a foul mouth, he gets into fights, he wears a giant fuzzy pink bunny suit, and he imagines himself alternately as the ultimate vanquisher of villainy or the king of the classroom.
In brief: I love this movie. I’m just not sure what that says about me.
I have to admit, though: when I was 10, I was Ralphy. The sole difference was that at that age I didn’t wear glasses. But, yes, I knew the f-bomb and used it regularly.
My other favorite Christmas movie, however, says a lot about who I am now: “It’s a Wonderful Life.” As a pastor, I often think: “Do I really make a difference in people’s lives? What if I just disappeared? Would it really matter?”
And every year tears come to me easier when George Bailey realizes that life really is wonderful and, yes, he does make a difference. As a father, as a husband and as a pastor I can never hear that message enough. So Christmas Day (and perhaps a few times before then) you’ll see me blubbering away to this old-fashioned, feel-good film classic.