ON HAVING A HALLMARK CHRISTMAS

 

In recent years, one of the most popular TV channels has been the Hallmark Channel.  Actually, there are three Hallmark channels:  the flagship regular Hallmark channel, the Movies & Mysteries channel, and the relatively newer Hallmark Drama Channel.   Yet of the three, the original Hallmark Channel remains the most popular.   Movies & Mysteries places a close second while the Drama Channel trails way back in the pack.

The secret of Hallmark’s success isn’t that much of a secret—but one the networks are unlikely to follow.   Hallmark is the premier champion of family friendly programs.  Violence is kept to the absolute minimum.  (If you don’t count the occasional snowball fight as violence, then one will search in vain for anything pugnacious.)  Sex is barely suggested and there are no bedroom scenes of either the married or premarital kind.  The unassuming TV watcher should be forgiven if he came to conclusion that the standard plot’s entire aim is to get the two principals to share a kiss.  All mild stuff indeed.  As one commenter has said:  all “g” rated fair one could watch with your children without the possibility that something blue or otherwise off-color will pop up which require sensitive explanations latter. 

The reality of death is recognized on Hallmark; but no one dies on camera.  For the most part, death usually involves the principle’s parents or spouse sometime in the past which she or he may struggle with to some degree.  Nevertheless, the real object of Hallmark plots is finding love for their principles with a lonely male and a hapless female winding their way to a chaste, romantic relationship—perhaps even marriage.  Often the principles were sweethearts in high school who become separated after graduation by college, a job, or military service and now circumstances put them back together after a significant number of years.

Religion is never far away from a hallmark story.  The Christian moral cord is assumed.  When religion does make an overt appearance, it is usually in the form of a minister or generic church.  No particular faith tradition is named but seems to be vaguely Protestant.  Whatever it is, it is certainly not Lutheran—much less Catholic or Orthodox.  At times, ones gets the notion that the faith that guides of the makers of the program was not Christianity but Mormonism.  But like I say, it is only a notion.  As for living out their faiths in the stories, one will get references to prayer or an occasional hymn—rarely more.  Occasionally one of the principals is seen either entering a church or leaving a religious service.  It is far more likely the interior of the church will be the setting for marriage.

Of late, Hallmark has broached the subject of homosexuality in its storylines.  So  far, none of the main principles of the plot are gay.  Gay couples are recognized in the narrative but in truth are purely tangential to the storyline.  This is pretty small potatoes and is unlikely to satisfy gay activists who want homosexuality normalized with a greater presence in conventional programing.   While open homosexuality is indeed a reality of modern life, it is unsatisfying to an orthodox Christian that there isn’t even a discussion of its morality.

All the same, the introduction of homosexuality into Hallmark’s shows is a step that challenges its family friendly status.  On a more positive note, Hallmark has introduced multiracial couples into their stories.  At the present time, I have not seen a black man romance a white female nor any other racial combination.  Nevertheless, I expect to see a multiracial romance on Hallmark sooner than later.  I’d say the days when it was controversial when a blond blue-eyed girl of solid New England stock became engaged to a black-haired brown-eyed son of Italian immigrants are over.

 

 

 

 

 

It being the Christmas season, Hallmark carpets its broadcast schedule with Christmas movies.  Christmas. Christmas. Christmas.  No war on Christmas here.  Indeed, Christmas is treated with abundant respect by Hallmark.  A good half of the plots involve one of the principles gaining the Christmas spirit while pursuing romance and realizing their love interest.   If you can appreciate Christmas movies 24 hours a day, every day, for six weeks out of the year, then all is well and good.

All is well and good…until one stops ponder one of the things said fairly consistently in one way or another in Hallmark’s Christmas programs.   The subject “What is Christmas all about?” comes about fairly often.  This is fairly simple, but interesting question.  One you’d like to hear what friends and family have to say.  Hallmark has a clear idea.  Sometimes its answer merely suggested.   Other times it is left unanswered.   But often---maybe not often enough—Hallmark’s answer is clear and direct.  Christmas is a time to gather with one’s family together along with other loved ones and friends to share to enjoyment of each other’s company and the good time of this special occasion.

The gathering of kin and kind has a lot to be said for it; but, while it is certainly healthy and commendable, it is not the meaning of Christmas.  It is an admirable aspiration among the unchurched and otherwise nonspiritual.  The truth is far too many families are broken and a regrettable number of the old spend the Holy days alone.  The reasons span chasm of human experience:  drugs, alcohol, greed, vicious disagreements…all the way to callous neglect.   As for drugs and alcohol, Hallmark rarely deals these realities.  It’s favorite subjects revolve around a man and women—often high school sweethearts-- separated by years of different paths in life and finally coming together for a purpose in the hometown.  In other tellings, two opposites are put together by circumstances.  They spend an unusual amount of time together.  Then, after several sessions of wine and/or hot chocolate, both realize they are in love.  There are usually complications with various elaborations but, in the end, our smitten couple bond in love.

Hallmark’s most successful series, “When Calls The Heart”, while it centers on the town’s lone school teacher, Elizabeth Thatcher, follows the lives of a wide set of characters in a fictional Hope Valley somewhere in western Canada.  While  “When Calls The Heart”  can be a bit more serious than Hallmark’s typical fare, it still follows the network’s family-friendly, feel-good formula.  The series has had a few Christmas specials.  All well received and popular.  But “the meaning of Christmas” remains much the same.   A baby may be born.  Kindness may be extended to ill-fortuned strangers or hermits living in the wild nearby.  Still, the message of love and second chances comes through.

Hallmark is basically innocent, light fun.  We should not fault it for what never claimed to be—which would presumably be “The Christian Channel”.  While many of its characters across its many programs do make references faith and prayer and we may see characters going into or coming from a church service, the particular contents of their faith are never discussed.  Which is what one would expect if you were wanting the widest audience possible.  Nevertheless, in such a case, one would think Hallmark would be more circumspect when it comes to telling the world “What Christmas is all about”.

Truth be told, it is not just Hallmark which equivocates on this point.  Think about all the Christmas movies you have seen and ultimately almost all do the same fudging.   Short of those film expressly made about the Nativity; the storylines are driven by engines that don’t have anything to do with “What Christmas is all about”.  The two come to mind are revenge and romance.  Revenge.  I think of BEN HUR.  Not exactly a Christmas movie, although it does begin with the birth of Jesus.  But certainly, the engine that drives Hallmark movies is romance.  Hallmark understands that women have an abiding longing for romantic stories.  Stories which provide an uplifting respite from everything else on television, factual or fictional, and for most women, an always welcome dose of romance.  Romance with no bedroom scenes or even a suggestion of a sleep over.  The Hallmark Christmas movies span the scope in quality-- with none reaching any dramatic height although one may come upon moments in which the interaction between actors may transcend the format.  But then the makers at Hallmark aren’t going for KING LEAR and won’t be mistaken for it.

Which still leaves us with the original issue of “Just What Is Christmas all about?”  For all the right tones Hallmark makers hit in their Christmas movie, “love and the gathering of kith and kin” would only satisfy you if one were determinately secular and revisionist.   The modern celebration of Christmas—if one were the proverbial man from mars—is a confusing menagerie of cut evergreen trees, mistletoe, garlands, stringing lights on houses, Tiny Tim, Ebenezer Scrooge,  the North Pole, Santa, elves, wrapped presents, oceans of alcohol, a wide range of local customs, and this baby born in a barn.  The Christmas soup is a problematical delicacy from which the major ingredient is barely discernable.

Yet, for the Christian, it all come down to that pesky baby born in the barn.  Personally, I love Christmas.  I love everything about it and I don’t see any purpose in getting all superior about it.  It does seem like every time you turn around there a hand stuck out wanting your money.  But even that can become a positive feature of Christmas.  Santa doesn’t confuse me and didn’t confuse me as a child.  Santa, like all the saints, is an example of something about Christ.  In the case of Santa Claus, it is his freely giving nature which reflects Christ’s generosity to all.

But Santa doesn’t consume Christmas.  Instead, he is only a beginning which can lead one to the true meaning of Christmas.  Admittedly, imperfect as it is, Santa is a glimpse—and only a glimpse—of the “God-Among-Us”.  For this Lutheran, as much as I might appreciate tradition, my impulse is to always dial direct.  For that, among tv specials, one stands out above all others.  First broadcast December 6, 1965,  A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS told its story when toward the end it suddenly tackled the question of what Christmas was all about.  And they hit it dead on.

Crestfallen, Charlie Brown loudly asks if anyone knows what Christmas is all about; Linus says he does, walks to center stage, asks for a spotlight, and recites the annunciation to the shepherds:

2 In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. ² (This was the first census that took place while^[a] Quirinius was governor of Syria.) ³ And everyone went to their own town to register.

⁴ So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. ⁵ He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. ⁶ While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, ⁷ and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

⁸ And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. ⁹ An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

¹³ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
 and on earth peace Good will to men

Linus then goes to Charlie Brown and says:  "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."

 

Christmas isn’t about good homemade food—although good homemade food on Christmas day is great.  It isn’t about family—although the gathering of kith and kin warms the heart.  It isn’t about being nice—although a nicer world would be agreeable every day of the year.  And Christmas isn’t about finding  romantic love—although only a heart of stone would find fault with two people falling love while sipping hot chocolate together after Santa’s nocturnal visit. 

 

No.  The meaning of Christmas is a person.   That person being the baby laid in a manger.  Our Lord and God, who dwelt among us and rescued us by going to the cross.

 

 

Are Lutherans conservative?

 

All depends on which Lutheran denomination one is speaking of. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) is generally regarded as liberal. The North American Lutheran Church (NALC) is said to be fairly moderate as Lutherans go, but in reality it is fairly conservative in anyone’s book. The Missouri and Wisconsin Synods are even more conservative.

If one is looking for a Lutheran denomination where the LBGT+ movement is seen positively, then the ELCA is it. Although, each individual ELCA congregation will differ. Some hold to traditional sexual ethics while others will openly decorate church property with assundry “Pride” flags and colors. The other three Lutheran denominations hold to the traditional sexual mores of classical Christianity.

If one is talking politically, things get a bit messier. But one will find far more liberals in the ELCA than in the other three “Lutheran bodies combined.

DEAR COOKIE MONSTER

 

My granddaughter, who dwelt in my home since she was three, recently left us to study at one of our great universities.  We sent her in great pride and sorrow.  No longer can we look forward to her infectious smiles in the morning and to her lighthearted prater after the long hours at school.  No longer will we be on the receiving end of her morose countenance by night followed by her small hints of disapproval.

Truth be told; however, we’ve not shared her company this past year.  Relations between her and her mother (my daughter) had grown dangerously acrimonious and so, after her eighteenth birthday on the advice of her therapist, my granddaughter slipped away in the night to live my oldest son, his wife and three small boys.

It is with no small embarrassment that I have to confess that, prior to my granddaughter’s departure, I had no idea things had gotten so bad between my daughter and herself.  (They had!)  The antecedents of those hostilities have now long past into irrelevance now that she is away at college; but I’m afraid the animosity remains.

I have no memory of all that follows.

This is a long way of saying my granddaughter had no way of knowing about my most recent medical adventure.  It seems that I went to sleep one night in late September and didn’t wake up the next day.  After much consternation, my wife summoned help from the fire department and our personal physician to get me to the hospital.  I apparently was with it just enough for me to object and express displeasure at attempts to move me.  The firemen hesitated feeling the need for my consent; thus the phone call to my doctor.  Somehow, they got whatever assent they thought was needed and off I was to the E.R. 

Once at the hospital, my condition deteriorated.  I was put into the critical care unit and on a ventilator.  The staff gravely told my wife that it was likely I would not survive the night and “end of life” questions might need to be addressed early the next morning.

 

 

Dear Cookie Monster:

Imagine the jolt and bewilderment waking up with three doctors in your face.   “Crabby, do you know where you are?”  Before you answer, you make note that they are just as startled as you are.   Turns out, I was at Community East Hospital two days after I last remember going to bed.

“Do you remember several people talking to you. Trying to get your permission to take you to the E.R.?”

“I don’t remember talking to anybody.”

And so it was:  my latest adventure in medical custody. The first thing I got straight with my captors was that I wanted to go home.

“Mr. Dooley, what you need to understand right now is that you just experienced another episode of congestive heart failure, and we can’t let you go home right now. Maybe in a few days; but we’d advise a few weeks at a rehab facility in any case.  Right now, we’re working to get all the excess water out of your body.”

Well…a week later, they let me go home.

Now, you may wonder why your grandfather, the old geezer of all old geezers, feels the need to glory himself by living up to such a cheesy stereotype.   “What the hell is so important at home that you want to get there?” 

In short, the answer is:       NOTHING.

So, what’s the big hairy deal?  One must understand the true nature of hospitals.  They say someone “X” is resting at “St. Bozo’s Medical Hospital.”  When they talk like that you can be confidant they are lying.

The first thing to know about hospitals is that you cannot “rest” because they will not leave you alone. Every three or four hours they come in to “take your vitals.”   Invariably, when I am in the hospital, the day begins at midnight as my nurse takes my temperature, blood pressure, pricks one of my fingers to measure my blood sugar, take her stethoscope and listen to my heart, and then put a pulse oximeter on another finger to find out what the oxygen mixture is in blood.

For me, they never like my first “numbers”; so, they have to do it all again.  Invariably, they always like the second results. This all takes at least ten minutes and often can easily take twice that much time. Then they say: “You can go to sleep now.”  Which usually takes me an hour to settle down and drift away.

Then at the crack of four in the morning, they do it all again. FOUR IN THE MORNING! So much for rest. They do vitals every four hours.  If your doctor shows up, they will do it all again just for themselves[MD1] .

But the biggest killer for me is the sheer boredom.  Apart from all the doctor and therapy visits there is nothing to do.  My music isn’t there.  My computer isn’t there.  TV is the worst.  (Many of the channels are simply weird) You end up praying a lot. The first subject of prayer is your health. Obvious, I mean, you are in the hospital. The second subject of prayer is to go home. 

Home.  Probably the last place you want to be.   At your age, I counted my dorm room as my home.   I loved my mother, but I didn’t get along with Chuck.  He and I always seem to find a way to butt heads.  Actually, I swore that he came home from work looking for something to pick a fight over. 

One morning, he summoned me to the bathroom to lecture me over how they were not going to pay for my auto insurance, and he was never going to allow me to use the car. 

“If I tell you not to go someplace, you just turn around and go there.   If I tell you you can’t drive above forty you’ll drive eighty.  You don’t do what I tell you to, so you don’t get the car.  So how do you like them apples?”

I had no idea where all this came from.  I had never mentioned driving or getting a car—much less expect Mom and Chuck putting me on their driver’s insurance.  I could see the future and didn’t want one more thing for Chuck fight and bitch over with me. 

When I left home for college August 24, 1971, I was finally free.

I missed you something awful last year; but I understood.  Looking back, I was just a kid.  Hell, when your grandmother married me, we both were still just kids.  There was still a whole lot we did not understand about the world.  But we were free.

Enclosed is a little something.  Use it however you choose.  I know something unexpected always comes up—especially when you are first starting out.

 

 

I love you, Cookie Monster

 

Grandpa Crabby

 

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