And the best dad award goes to...

Nearly every Christmas Eve, when we return home from the candlelight carol service at church, I pop in our DVD of the 2006 movie, The Nativity Story. Like any Hollywood production of a biblical story, this depiction of Christ’s birth comes with plenty for critics to hiss at in terms of accuracy. Probably the most glaring is the visit of the wisemen to the stable, arriving at the same time as the shepherds almost immediately after his birth. Historians know the visit came many months later.

It doesn’t bother me, because the key elements are all present (including Mary’s virginity and the angelic visits.) I love the music and wasn’t surprised to learn the score was made into an album and nominated for a Dove award. The way the wisemen are portrayed offers bits of comic relief. The plots of Herod and the Romans’ taxation practices give a glimpse into history and the oppression under which the Judeans lived. Elizabeth’s delivery of John the Baptist provides realistic insight into what life might have been like. The scenery, the costumes, the animals—all of it works together to bring you much more than your standard Sunday School lesson.

Though I know how it ends, I’m always brought to tears at the tender moment when Mary’s baby arrives and the expressions on his parents’ faces say it all. Which brings me to what I love best.

Instead of the impossibly sweet and serene Madonna usually portrayed when an actor is brave enough to tackle the role of Mary, we see someone more human. Keisha Castle-Hughes (a New Zealander who was sixteen at the time) played Mary as a headstrong, thoughtful adolescent transformed by an unimaginable responsibility. I think she demonstrates a beautiful balance of surrender to God’s plan, confident independence, and strength of character.

On the arduous journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, Mary comes to recognize and appreciate Joseph’s integrity—and therein lies my second-favorite thing. We know little from the Bible about Joseph, other than that he was a “devout man.” This rendition shows several examples of Joseph being generous, kind, and considerate. In her positive review of the movie, Ann Hornaday of The Washington Post concluded “…[perhaps] Jesus became Who He was not only because He was the Son of God, but because He was raised by a good man.”

Oscar Isaac as Joseph

The Bible tells us Joseph was a carpenter, and the assumption is Jesus learned this trade from him. My heart has a soft spot for carpenters because my grandfather was one. He always smelled of sawdust—one of the happiest smells I know, because it reminds me of him and because it generally means some sort of progress is in the works.

I wish we knew more about Joseph. Wouldn’t he be a huge encouragement to fathers? Think about the self-sacrifice involved in accepting as your own a child you did not father and then giving him all the love, protection, guidance, and care you’d give your own. Add the fact that this child was like no other before or since—the son of God himself. A little daunting, wouldn’t you say?

Watch the movie if you can. Reflect on the good example set by Joseph. And if you have men of real integrity in your life, men with servants’ hearts and courageous spirits, be grateful. Let them know they’re appreciated.

Merry Christmas!

Elf: A Longing to Belong

First, a bit of trivia that Elf fans may not know. Remember Buddy’s thirteen-second-long belch after guzzling a two-liter bottle of Coca-Cola? The burp was real, but dubbed in by Canadian voice actor Maurice LaMarche (who voiced Brain from Pinky and the Brain, among many other cartoon characters). We should feel so proud.

This 2003 movie stars Will Farrell (who stands six-foot-three) as Buddy, a human raised by Santa’s elves. It always makes me laugh, but be sure you’re in the mood for extreme silliness when you decide to watch it.

Buddy has never been told he’s not an elf, and he grows up feeling inferior. He’s far too large for the elves’ homes and furnishings. He can’t make toys as quickly as they can. Though he feels loved by Papa Elf who adopted him, and accepted by the other elves who are too kind to hurt his feelings, Buddy knows he doesn’t fit in.

When Buddy learns he’s a human whose mother died and that he has a biological father unaware of his existence, he treks from the North Pole to New York City. His mission? To find his father and redeem him from Santa’s naughty list. The people he encounters, including his father, assume he’s completely dysfunctional and in need of serious help. All kinds of crazy scenes play out as Buddy gradually wins over his half-brother, his stepmother, a department store elf he’s quickly falling in love with, and—finally, his father. The group must then save Santa’s sleigh from certain destruction by raising NYC’s level of Christmas cheer. Buddy ends up a hero.

The touching part of this story is the part to which our souls relate: the hunger for belonging. We yearn to understand our roots, find our people, know where we fit. We long for father, and when that longing is met with rejection, it becomes the harshest rejection of all.

Regardless of race, class, nationality, or gender, our relationship with our father is deeply tied to our identity. That need is so strong in us, it can drive people into bad relationships, gangs, and cults. Even those fortunate enough to enjoy a good relationship with their parents understand the need for more. We were designed to be loved perfectly, but no parent or partner can measure up.

Deep inside, we long to know who we truly are. Whose we are. Though we may not admit it, our souls desire a relationship with our Creator. The good news is, our Creator desires one with us even more. Christmas made it possible. We don’t need to make a long trek to him. He sent his son to us. Because of the sacrifice Jesus made, look at what the Bible tells us about who we are in him:

I am a child of God. (John 1:12)

I am a friend of Jesus. (John 15:15)

I will not be condemned by God. (Romans 8:1)

I am accepted by Christ. (Romans 15:7)

I have wisdom, righteousness, and redemption. (1 Corinthians 1:30)

I am a new creature. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I am set free. (Galatians 5:1)

I am blessed. (Ephesians 1:3)

I am chosen. (Ephesians 1:4)

I am forgiven. (Ephesians 1:7)

I am loved. (Ephesians 2:4-5)

I am provided for. (Philippians 4:19)

That’s only a partial list, but it includes twelve verses for you to look up—one for each of the twelve days of Christmas. Google them if it’s easier. I hope you’ll take some time this Christmas season to remember—or perhaps to discover for the first time—the identity and belonging your Creator offers you because of Jesus.

Merry Christmas!

How the Grinch (Almost) Stole Christmas

One movie in our DVD must-watch collection is the 2000 version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas with Jim Carrey in the title role. It’s based on Theodore (Doctor Seuss) Geisel’s 1957 book by the same name. Making a feature length movie out of a children’s storybook requires much expansion of the original. The writers of the screenplay created an entire past for the Grinch that makes him a somewhat sympathetic character and explains why he hated Christmas and the residents of Whoville. They also needed to add several extra scenes and plot points to the story, while staying true to Seuss’s rhyming style.

You may or may not be a fan, but Jim Carrey could not have been a better choice. If ever a role called for his maniacal style, this one does. Carrey delivers. I think it’s his performance and the brilliant makeup work that bring me back to this movie. My favourite lines do not appear in the book, like when the Grinch steps on the scale to discover his heart is down a size and he promises, “This time, I’m keeping it off!”

When the Grinch receives the invitation from Cindy Lou Who to their Whobilation festivities, Carrey ad libs. Flipping the pages of his calendar, the Grinch reads his tight schedule aloud:

“Four o’clock, wallow in self-pity; Four-thirty, stare into the abyss; Five o’clock, solve world hunger, tell no one; Five-thirty, jazzercize; Six-thirty, dinner with me—I can’t cancel that again; Seven, wrestle with my self-loathing. I’m booked.”

The part where the Grinch teases director Ron Howard by donning Howard’s famous ball cap and “directing” Max the dog on how to play a reindeer was all Jim Carrey’s. Howard loved it and left it in.

Like most Christmas movies, this one makes no references to the real Christmas. Its redemption comes in the lessons on bullying and its long-range results, on the emptiness of consumerism, and on the value of community, love, and goodwill.

But the real Christmas did include a grinch. His name was Herod the Great and he, too, had a past. Known for his architectural ambitions, this king of Judea was brutal. He executed members of his own family, banished at least one wife in order to “marry up” politically, and unfairly taxed the Judeans. Scholars agree Herod suffered throughout his lifetime from depression and paranoia. He was so concerned no one would mourn his death that he commanded several distinguished men to be killed at the time of his own death to ensure the displays of grief he craved would take place. Fortunately, this order was not carried out.

One equally horrific command was realized, however. King Herod felt so threatened when he learned about the birth of Jesus Christ, he determined to have the child murdered. When his initial plan was thwarted, he ordered all male children under the age of two in Bethlehem killed. While scholars tell us the total number of babies murdered would have been a dozen or so (not hundreds like is sometimes portrayed), I’ve sometimes wondered how I would have felt toward Jesus years later if I’d been one of those bereft mothers and if I understood why my child had died.

Jesus escaped this massacre, thanks to a warning given to Joseph in a dream. Like the Grinch’s, Herod’s attempt at stealing Christmas failed. Not long afterwards, Herod died an excruciating death.

Unlike the Grinch, Herod never experienced an epiphany. He never came to understand that, “Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas means a little bit more.”