Wonder

It’s pretty easy to get calloused this time of year. Even if you’re trying your dead level best to be focused on the real reason for the season, it can become cloudy at times. Even the music – carols and hymns – can become white noise just happening in the distance. It’s not that the intention isn’t there, it’s just that so much else is happening that my intention is distracted. I still am disturbed when I turn on the television and receive the all out onslaught to the senses – you need this to be happy, buy that for your family, your kids will love you if they have this under the tree. I often feel beaten down and bruised by the distractions and all while I’m trying to kneel at the manger.

Here’s the thing, I LOVE the traditions and the decorations. I love the movies and the music. I love driving around our little town and seeing the courthouse decorated and the lights on various houses. I love sitting in my living room and staring at the tree with each memory hanging as an ornament. I even love the silly things like cookie making and Dickens’ village set up and that sill Elf-on-a-shelf that seems to keep popping up. But the last few days, I’ve noticed a longing in my soul – something is missing.

I was reminded in an email devotional this morning about the movie Miracle on 34th Street. If you’re not familiar with the movie – go find a copy (either version will do). The story is about a man who believes himself to be Kris Kringle. As a result of corporate greed, Kringle and his mental ability are put on trial. Through a rather simple and naive defense, Kringle begins to woo over even his toughest of opponents. As Kringle’s enemies gather to discuss the trial, the corporate CEO is furious that his plans to ruin his competitor are backfiring. As he’s yelling at his two subordinates, they look at each other and flash “I Believe” buttons to each other, and  smile at their shared secret. You can’t help but giggle along with them – the anger of one versus the joy of believing is just perfect.

“I believe” – could there be a stronger two-word phrase? I’m not so sure. “I Believe” is an invitation to go beyond, to see past what is in front of us. A lot of folks struggle with “I Believe” because it takes a level of faith – and faith is something that often can’t be proved. The two corporate lackeys who flashed their buttons to each other had no more evidence about the identity of Kringle than they had prior – it was something else that moved them to their button purchase. No their belief was rooted in experience – it was strengthened in trial – it was birthed through seeing what others refused to see. Their belief, as well as many others in the movie, came out of a growing sense of wonder and amazement. Jaded individuals could smile and see hope – things could be different.

Could it be that simple? The question I’ve lived with for the last several years is “Can Christmas Still Change the World?” and I’m starting to wonder if that question is dependent upon an “I Believe” type of attitude. Could it be that simple belief is the remedy for the callousness of the season? Could it be that belief might birth wonder all over again? Even as I write this, I find my heart beat begin to quicken – a sense of “something more” or possibility is replacing the anxiety and clearing the fog of distraction. 

Even in an environment where the church and christianity is seen as, at best, an outdated institution, and at worst, a blight to humanity – there is a clarion call to the wonder and belief of the Christ Child born in a manger. The desire for belief is out there – the hope of wonder is clearly longed for. As I sit in my office typing, I’m listening to a secular artist’s “Holiday” album  and am captured by how faith-filled it is. Even with all the distractions, even those far from the Church are singing songs of the longing for the Christmas wonder. I guess that helps answer the question of whether Christmas can still change the world. 

What it would it look like if I flashed my “I believe” button a little more often? Not an I believe in Santa, but an I Believe that the wonder of Christmas, the wonder of the infinite being born in a finite body, will still change the world! I’m going to try and start my days with an “I believe.” When I’m feeling the pressure and the distractions take over I’m going to say it again – “I believe.” When I’m wishing for more wonder and wishing for that Peace on Earth, I’m going to lift up my two word prayer – “I believe.” When I’m hearing all the different messages and missing out on the manger, I’m going to choose to whisper “I believe.”

And, I believe that as a result, I’ll be filled with deeper wonder and I’ll start to see what I say I believe in.