"Love needs to find form, intimacy needs to be whispered." Bono on the grace of Advent

Bono’s thoughts on Advent from an extended interview he did in 2004:

I remember coming back from a very long tour.  I hadn’t been at home for months.  Got home for Christmas, very excited of being in Dublin.  Dublin at Christmas is cold, but it’s lit up, it’s like a Carnival in the cold. 

On Christmas Eve, I went to St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  I had done school there for a year.  It’s where Jonathan Swift was Dean.  Anyway, some of my Church of Ireland friends were going.  It’s kind of a tradition on Christmas Eve to go, but I’d never been.  I went to this place, sat.  I was given a really bad seat, behind one of the huge pillars.  I couldn’t see anything.  I was sitting there, having come back from Tokyo or somewhere like that.  I went for the singing, because I love choral singing.  Community arts, a specialty!  But I was falling asleep, being up for a few days, traveling, because it was a bit boring, the service, and I just started nodding off since I couldn’t see a thing. 

Then I started to try and keep myself awake studying what was on the page.  It dawned on me for the first time, really.  It had dawned on me before, but it really sank in: the Christmas story.  The idea that God, if there is a force of Love and Logic in the universe, that it would seek to explain itself is amazing enough.  That it would seek to explain itself and describe itself by becoming a child born in poverty, in shit and straw…a child…I just thought: “Wow!” Just the poetry…unknowable love, unknowable power, describes itself as the most vulnerable.  There it was. 

I was sitting there, and it’s not that it hadn’t struck me before, but tears came down my face, and I saw the genius of this, the utter genius of picking a particular point in time and deciding to turn on this. You see, love needs to find form, intimacy needs to be whispered.  To me, it makes sense.  It’s actually logical.  It’s pure logic.  Essence has to manifest itself.  It’s inevitable.  Love has to become an action or something concrete.  It would have to happen.  There must be an incarnation.  Love must be made flesh.

My understanding of the Scriptures has been made simple by the person of Christ.  Christ taught that God is love.  What does that mean?  What it means for me: a study of the life of Christ.  Love here describes itself as a child born in raw poverty, the most vulnerable situation of all, without honor.  I don’t let my religious world get too complicated.  I just kind of go: Well, I think I know what God is.  God is love, and as much as I respond in allowing myself to be transformed by that love and acting in that love, that’s my religion.  Where things get complicated for me, is when I try to live this love.  Now, that’s not easy.

There’s nothing hippie about my picture of Christ.  The Gospels paint a picture of a very demanding, sometimes divisive love, but love it is.  I accept the Old Testament as more of an action movie: blood, car chases, evacuations, a lot of special effects, seas dividing, mass murder, adultery.  The children of God are running amok, wayward.  Maybe that’s why they’re so relatable. 

But the way we would see it, those of us who are trying to figure out our Christian conundrum, is that the God of the Old Testament is like the journey from stern father to friend.  When you’re a child, you need clear directions and some strict rules.  But with Christ, we have access in a one-to-one relationship, for, as in the Old Testament, it was more one of worship and awe, a vertical relationship.  The New Testament, on the other hand, we look across at Jesus who looks familiar, horizontal. The combination is what makes the Cross.

It’s a mind-blowing concept that the God who created the Universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma. I really believe we have moved out of the realm of Karma into one of Grace.

You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma.  You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics—in physical laws—every action is met by an equal or opposite one.  It’s clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the Universe.  I’m absolutely sure of it. 

And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that “As you reap, so will you sow” stuff.  Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff.  I’d be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge.  I’d be in deep shit.  It doesn’t excuse my mistakes, but I’m holding out for Grace.  I’m holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don’t have to depend on my own religiosity.

(From Bono in Conversation with Michka Assayas, copyright 2006, Riverhead Books)

No Room!

Adapted from a chapter in Tony Campolo’s book, Let Me Tell You a Story: Life Lessons from unexpected Places and Unlikely People:

A schoolteacher served students from several grades in a small one room schoolhouse in upstate New York, including one child who was euphemistically referred to as “special.”  That particular little boy was what we might call “slow.”

When Christmas season came, the teacher decided to put on a Christmas pageant, and the special needs boy wanted to have a part in it.  He didn’t just want to stand around on the stage; he wanted to have a speaking part.  Part of the presentation was a dramatic interpretation of the birth of Christ in Bethlehem. They all knew that he could not remember lines very well, but they came up with what seemed like a viable solution to the problem.  They told him that he could be in innkeeper.  When Mary and Joseph knocked on the door of the inn, he was to open it and say, “No room!”  Mary would then plead with him further, and when she finished her lines he was to say again, “No room!” and close the door.

They thought he could handle this, but just to make sure, they appointed someone to stand near him behind the door and poke him at the proper time and whisper the right words in his ear, should he forget them.  Rehearsals went fine, and all were excited about a good presentation.

The night of the Christmas pageant all seemed to be moving well until Mary and Joseph got to the inn door.  Mary knocked.  When our little friend opened the door he said what was expected of him: “No room!” 

Mary responded, “But , sir, it’s cold.  Have you no place at all where we can stay?  It’s freezing and I am sick.  I’m going to have a baby, and unless you help us, my baby will be born in the cold, cold night.”

The boy just stood there and said nothing.  Mary looked at him and nodded her head as if to say Go ahead, it’s your turn.  There was another long pause.  The prompter nudged him and whispered, “No room!  Say ‘No room!’”

The little guy then turned to the prompter and said, “I know what I’m supposed to say…but I’ve been thinking.”  He then looked at Mary and said “…she can have my room,” and then he opened the door wide for her and Joseph.

To some, loving comes easily and almost without thinking. The rest of us must be more deliberate.  Let us pray that we are open to the leading of the spirit by being more responsive to the needs of others as they come to us.

The Risk of Birth, An Advent Poem

This is no time for a child to be born,

With the earth betrayed by war & hate

And a comet slashing the sky to warn

That time runs out & the sun burns late.

That was no time for a child to be born,

In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;

Honour & truth were trampled by scorn-

Yet here did the Saviour make his home.

When is the time for love to be born?

The inn is full on the planet earth,

And by a comet the sky is torn-

Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.

Madeleine L'Engle (1973)

The First Time I Saw "It's a Wonderful Life"

It was a frigid night, Dec. 31, 1979. Thirty-two years have passed, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I had sulked-in to my empty apartment after yet another forgettable New Year’s Eve “celebration” with dozens of other lonely singles trying to mask our insecurities with loud music, bland party food, and tepid alcohol. I even made out with a girl I’d only met an hour earlier when the clocks and calendars made the big change. We played tonsil hockey for a while, but it was apparent that neither of our hearts were really invested.

My three roommates were out of town for the holidays and our place was somber. The existential ache made me restless despite the advanced hour. I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments; my deep sighs undergirded by the muted beating of my blue heart.

What am I doing with my life? What has it amounted to? I muttered to myself. In the stillness I pondered what Kierkegaard said, “We make merry noise at the beginning of each new year to distract ourselves from the macabre sound of grass growing over our graves.” The silence was deafening…an oppressive weight.

I leaned over to the dresser next to my bed and flipped-on the ten inch Zenith black and white TV to further distract my soul. I don’t know what I was expecting to find at 2:40 AM. There were only seven channels to choose from in Chicago back then, and several of them were already in test-pattern mode. But when I clicked over to Channel 32 on the UHF dial, I saw the beaming grin of Jimmy Stewart as he was describing the size of a globetrotting suitcase.

Oh, good ol’ Jimmy…I like the characters he plays, I thought. I always had an affinity for Stewart for his acting and choice of roles, but also because I was born in the same little hospital room in Indiana, PA that he was. My early years were spent in that county seat located an hour east of Pittsburgh, and always smiled in the realization that he had maintained that distinctive accent: “Awwww shucks. Whaaat’s in that bwox? “

Whether it was light comedy like The Philadelphia Story and Harvey, or westerns like Winchester 73 and Who Shot Liberty Valance, or dramas like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and Rear Window, I loved the pathos that Jimmy brought to the screen. Having seen dozens of his films, many multiple times, I thought I was well versed on his repertoire. But as I watched for several minutes I realized I had never seen this one before. I didn’t have a TV Guide, and had no idea how far into the movie I was (turns out I had missed the first ten minutes or so).

Being drawn into the story of this loveable George Bailey, I crawled under my bedspread and settled-in. After one of the commercial breaks finished, an announcer said, “We now return to Frank Capra’s It’s A Wonderful Life.”

Hmmm, you learn something new every day, I thought. I had never heard of this one, but I was intrigued with how the narrative was unfolding: this likeable Everyman who kept making sacrifices for others but was feeling trapped by circumstances not allowing him to break out and do all that he had been dreaming of for decades.

I also found Donna Reed extremely fetching as Mary. Being a baby-boomer, I was quite aware of her television days as an All-American mom on The Donna Reed Show in the late fifties/early sixties, but had never seen her in her mid-twenties like in this film. What a dish! But beyond her lovely charms, I found myself drawn to her character, Mary Hatch, because of her humility, common sense, and commitment.

Different scenes with George registered with me on that first viewing:

• - Interacting with his dad at the dinner table as they discussed breaking out of preconceived expectations.
• - The kissing scene with Mary while they are sharing a phone receiver was so much more passionate and meaningful than the French session I had earlier that night that cute blonde.
• - Dressing-down Mr. Potter while defending his father’s honor.
• - Reasoning with clients not to lose hope at the Building and Loan when another bank run hit in 1933.
• - Being greeted by his new bride in their formerly “haunted” home.
• - His flaring temper while yelling at Uncle Billy over losing the money, as well as losing it with his children and then destroying all the architectural models and maps he had of his dreams in his den.
• - Praying through tears at Martini’s Bar, then promptly getting punched in the mouth. “That’s what I get for praying,” he mumbled as he got off the floor from the blow.
• - Once he is granted his wish that he’d never been born he begins to realize the interconnectedness of our lives.
• - His wild gratefulness upon the dissipation of the frightening vision of a world without his life.
• - The sheer exultation of all his friends and family so willing to come to his aid in a grave time of need.
• - At the end, the celebration of a community.

As the film came to a close with that message from Clarence, his guardian angel, that “No man is a failure who has friends,” the tears were rolling down my cheeks. What a reminder that what we give for others is much more satisfying than anything we can try to posses or attain on our own.

The next day I drove over to my folk’s house for a New Year’s Day dinner, and asked them if they had ever seen It’s a Wonderful Life?

“Oh my, yes,” my Mom said. “That’s a good one, but most people have forgotten it.”

I set about researching everything I could find on this Capra classic. It was the first film Stewart did after returning from service in World War II. And even though it did reasonable business at the box office and received nice reviews, it was hardly a hit during its theatrical release. As the years passed, Stewart did dozens more films, and It’s a Wonderful Life was simply a slight blurb in his massive list of cinematic accomplishments, and all but forgotten by the time the 70s rolled around.

But then, with the proliferation of UHF stations coming on the scene, many programmers were looking to fill slots at holiday time. The folks at Liberty Films, who originally financed It’s a Wonderful Life, had failed to re-register their copyright, and the film became “public domain” in 1973. So, these upstart stations could air a film like that without having to pay any royalties. With each passing year, another few stations would add it into their holiday line-ups. It wasn’t considered one of Stewart’s big hits, so it was relegated to ultra-late night viewings.

And that’s what I stumbled across on that icy evening over three decades ago. I began telling all my friends about it. I located articles, interviews, short documentaries, and eventually a book that included the entire script and hundreds of photos from behind the scenes. More and more stations began playing it each season, and legions of others were discovering it for the first time as well. By the late 80s, it was considered essential Christmastime viewing by most everyone I know. In Stewart’s pantheon on great performances, it is now hailed as his best and most beloved. Writer/Director Frank Capra made many other Oscar-winning films. But he came to embrace It’s a Wonderful Life as his most treasured offering.

I’ve seen it at least forty times, and can recite nearly every line word for word. And it has now come full-circle in that it is once again gracing the silver screen at theaters across the country every Christmas season. There’s nothing like seeing it at Nashville’s historic Belcourt Cinema with hundreds of others all reveling in the common bonds of friendship, steadfastness, and sacrifice that are modeled so powerfully in this gift of a film. As the house lights come up with the singing of “Auld Lang Syne” and the Christmas bells ringing-out the exultation of a life well lived, most of us are wiping away tears of joy as we all smile knowingly to each other.

If you’d like to join me in seeing it yet again this year in Nashville, come to the Belcourt’s 7 PM showing (one of over two dozen in the week leading up to Christmas) on Friday, Dec. 23^rd. We’ll meet in the lobby at 6:40 to try to sit together. Afterwards we’ll adjourn to Fido’s for coffee or hot chocolate to discuss what this movie stirs in each of us. To find out how to order tix in advance (recommended) go here:

http://www.ticketsnashville.com/WebSales/Pages/TicketSearchCriteria.aspx?evtInfo=42490~3a28c818-27b3-492b-8c64-14556ad966cd&epguid=e8dfbc7c-00ea-47f0-afa9-285fd4b1aba7&

Let me know if you’re coming so I can be on the lookout for ya. : )