I have to confess that my wife and I like watching these as our evening's entertainment. One movie and we're usually done for the evening. Better than a prescription for a good night's sleep.
But more seriously, it's glaringly obvious—painfully obvious—that most of these movies are set in a time and place where people without skill or passion are rich, thin, untroubled by anything more significant than a missing tree ornament of great sentimental value—and white.
Not white as in "oh, this is a show about European women pining for their literal Prince Charming." But white as in "none of these people in any way have moments of reflection or insight about the people around them—or have any real encounters with people for whom Christmas is another morning with no food on the table or heat for the house." The Christmases *are* Hallmark greeting cards—fun and bouncy and light, with a touch of snow and tinsel to remind us of the True Meaning of the Holiday.
Very seldom is there more than a nod to the roots of our current Christmas traditions that include trees and carols and candles and presents. We know that Christmas rom-coms aren't vehicles for teaching, of course. But with all the holly and glitter and snow, there are no moments to look at what the set presents to the actors and ask that critical question: What is this all for?
Not just the religious aspects which are reduced to the safe lines from comfortable Christmas carols. (These movies are no place for O Holy Night with its call to free the enslaved!) But even the secondary add-ons of storytelling and food and mornings together in the mad dash to unwrap presents in the shortest time possible.
It is always "we're almost at Christmas!" and then—nothing. There's no Christmas after the waiting. It's a commercial break, a denouement of the once-happy couple discovering that their troubles are trifling and that they love each other, and then the credits roll. As the Red Queen said "Jam yesterday and jam tomorrow, but never jam today."
We never seem to enjoy the actual holiday itself. We enjoy the spectacle and the planning and the decorations. But what is Christmas morning other than end of the movie? What was it all about?
We learn one thing from Christmas rom-coms: It is all waiting for the meal and no meal. Anticipation without fulfillment. Happiness is finally getting the person you were so unsuited to get in the beginning but with none of the hard work that comes from finding out that the person you think in Prince Charming is sometimes an ugly toad in the morning and now what do you do?
Well, maybe we learn one other thing about Christmas, expressed as a subtext: people really do want happiness and contentment, and will watch these rom-coms not just for entertainment but also to have those moments where they, too, feel the anticipation of something just around the corner, something so marvelous and unexpected that we will be sleepless until we gather together for our family's moments.
We are reminded of the love that might already exist in our own homes, or that we wish would exist, and so every year we hold hope expecting to experience that.
Maybe they're a teaching tool after all: you will always be waiting for your Christmas morning, but in the ways of this world it will always elude you, and the contentment you seek is available elsewhere in that still-to-be-found place of rest and hope.
Perhaps God in his sovereignty is using these movies as a way to raise awareness and create hunger for something more. I don't know for sure. But a God who could make a donkey speak his word and make stones cry out his praises can use even a Hallmark rom-com as a way to awaken thirst.
I dunno. As my dad said so often, "we'll see." I do know that there are two weeks left until Christmas morning, and I for one will be watching yet another lead-up to Christmas tonight to remind me that the best stuff is just ahead on Christmas morning when we celebrate the Christ child, the center of our holiday.
I have to confess that my wife and I like watching these as our evening's entertainment. One movie and we're usually done for the evening. Better than a prescription for a good night's sleep.
But more seriously, it's glaringly obvious—painfully obvious—that most of these movies are set in a time and place where people without skill or passion are rich, thin, untroubled by anything more significant than a missing tree ornament of great sentimental value—and white.
Not white as in "oh, this is a show about European women pining for their literal Prince Charming." But white as in "none of these people in any way have moments of reflection or insight about the people around them—or have any real encounters with people for whom Christmas is another morning with no food on the table or heat for the house." The Christmases *are* Hallmark greeting cards—fun and bouncy and light, with a touch of snow and tinsel to remind us of the True Meaning of the Holiday.
Very seldom is there more than a nod to the roots of our current Christmas traditions that include trees and carols and candles and presents. We know that Christmas rom-coms aren't vehicles for teaching, of course. But with all the holly and glitter and snow, there are no moments to look at what the set presents to the actors and ask that critical question: What is this all for?
Not just the religious aspects which are reduced to the safe lines from comfortable Christmas carols. (These movies are no place for O Holy Night with its call to free the enslaved!) But even the secondary add-ons of storytelling and food and mornings together in the mad dash to unwrap presents in the shortest time possible.
It is always "we're almost at Christmas!" and then—nothing. There's no Christmas after the waiting. It's a commercial break, a denouement of the once-happy couple discovering that their troubles are trifling and that they love each other, and then the credits roll. As the Red Queen said "Jam yesterday and jam tomorrow, but never jam today."
We never seem to enjoy the actual holiday itself. We enjoy the spectacle and the planning and the decorations. But what is Christmas morning other than end of the movie? What was it all about?
We learn one thing from Christmas rom-coms: It is all waiting for the meal and no meal. Anticipation without fulfillment. Happiness is finally getting the person you were so unsuited to get in the beginning but with none of the hard work that comes from finding out that the person you think in Prince Charming is sometimes an ugly toad in the morning and now what do you do?
Well, maybe we learn one other thing about Christmas, expressed as a subtext: people really do want happiness and contentment, and will watch these rom-coms not just for entertainment but also to have those moments where they, too, feel the anticipation of something just around the corner, something so marvelous and unexpected that we will be sleepless until we gather together for our family's moments.
We are reminded of the love that might already exist in our own homes, or that we wish would exist, and so every year we hold hope expecting to experience that.
Maybe they're a teaching tool after all: you will always be waiting for your Christmas morning, but in the ways of this world it will always elude you, and the contentment you seek is available elsewhere in that still-to-be-found place of rest and hope.
Perhaps God in his sovereignty is using these movies as a way to raise awareness and create hunger for something more. I don't know for sure. But a God who could make a donkey speak his word and make stones cry out his praises can use even a Hallmark rom-com as a way to awaken thirst.
I dunno. As my dad said so often, "we'll see." I do know that there are two weeks left until Christmas morning, and I for one will be watching yet another lead-up to Christmas tonight to remind me that the best stuff is just ahead on Christmas morning when we celebrate the Christ child, the center of our holiday.