Predictably, I have not watched as many movies in 2025. But it’s been a busy year, and now, as the weather turns bitter cold, I’ve taken it upon myself to catch up with a month of Christmas movie watching. ‘Christmas movie’ is a loose term; some are more Christmas than others. My new favorite, “Miracle on 34th Street,” plays out with Santa Claus sitting in a New York City courtroom. But the closest thing to Santa Claus in “Iron Man 3” is Jon Favreau.
What makes a film a Christmas movie? It is not Santa Claus, snow, reindeer, or elves, but instead a common trio of recurring themes: glimpses of eternal truth in the most merry fiction.
The first is obvious: belief. “Miracle on 34th Street” is an excellent case study of what it means to believe in something. “Do you believe in Santa Claus?” the little girl is asked throughout the film. Of course, she doesn’t. The child is practical and pragmatic, sifting life through her six-year-old eyes as a lawyer might review a case. How silly might it be to believe in Santa Claus? “My mother buys me everything off my list,” she quips. Even when face-to-face with the most remarkable Kris Kringle ‘dupe,’ she still has a hard time believing in his existence. Believing, despite what is often said, is much more complex than simply seeing something.
“The Polar Express” tells us this too. Our unnamed skeptical protagonist boards a mysterious locomotive to the North Pole on Christmas Eve to visit Santa Claus, who most assuredly does not exist. But by the end of the adventure, he is similarly face-to-face with Santa Claus and pronounces, “I do believe, I do believe!”
I am reminded of the centurion in the Gospel of Mark who cried out to Jesus, asking for healing for his ill child, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” (9:24). Sight, like reason, may stir believing, but it is faith that ultimately bears the fruit of belief. After all, “Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to,” as Fred Gailey says in the 1947 Miracle film.
But belief is just the beginning. What one believes about the world, people, and life directly influences who they believe they ought to be and, thus, what they believe they ought to do. After one believes, then one is open to redemption.
For Tony Stark in “Iron Man 3,” he must first put aside his Iron Man suit, which he has been hiding behind, and accept the shortcomings of his past.
The Ghost of Christmas Past haunts Stark throughout the film, a villainous arc spurred by Stark’s selfish deeds decades earlier. For the Ghost of Christmas Present, the anxiety of saving the world time and time again from intergalactic threats looms large. And perhaps the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come whispers in those quiet moments of isolation, as Stark stumbles through the snow, suitless and exposed, forced to confront a future where his obsessions cost him everything dear.
It is only after battling through these trials and confronting the sins of his past that Stark can move forward, a changed man with a deeper appreciation and acceptance of life.
In “Home Alone,” young Kevin McCallister may be subject to teasing and downright bullying from his elder siblings and family members, but he is far from perfect himself, mischievous and quick to tantrums and rage (not condoned, whether justified or not). But when McCallister wishes his family had never existed, he is astonished to discover that his wish came true. He initially loves this newfound freedom, eating gallons of ice cream and watching junk on TV.
But as the movie goes on, the joys of a solitary, unfettered life slowly dwindle, and the loneliness creeps in. McCallister wanted life his way, and that is what he got. But after a conversation with the old neighbor, Marley next door, who hasn’t spoken to his family in years, the boy determines that he does love his family, that he does miss them, and that he does want them in his life, even if they cause him bits of trouble. He finds himself a changed eight-year-old boy with a newfound appreciation for his family and the many blessings in his life.
Thus, belief stirs redemption, and redemption flows into giving. It seems to be only natural for one to do when they feel as though they have been graciously given a second chance at life. The transformed heart, having received unmerited grace, cannot help but overflow in generosity.
Tony Stark gives up his vast collection of Iron Man suits to commit himself to freely living life with Pepper. The Polar Express protagonist finds it in himself to care deeply for the needs of those around him, instead of riding along in reluctance. Even Dr. Seuss’ antagonistic Grinch embraces redemption and returns the gifts graciously after his beliefs are radically changed through a gift presented to him, ever undeserving.
“A Christmas Carol” provides the clearest example, of course, with Ebenezer Scrooge. The cold businessman’s personal belief is shaken to its core through acts of the supernatural, pushing him to repentance and subsequent redemption for his lifelong neglect of the people of the world around him and bearing fruit in generous and free giving to the poor and needy around him, including his much-belittled employee Bob Cratchit and family.
In simpler terms, these films show that belief in goodness begets a change in heart and character, subsequently expressed in generous action. But what makes that outline so natural to Christmas?
Because these ‘Christmas’ films, intentionally or not, reflect the true merry and bright Christmas story, the ultimate most wonderful story of all, of how the all-powerful Creator of the universe so loved His unworthy creation that, despite our sin, He chose to save us by descending from heaven into the broken world in the form of a perfect baby, born in a meek manger in Bethlehem.
A free gift for us all, that baby would grow up to teach the world goodness, love, truth, mercy, and grace. He was then crucified on the cross for the sins of all mankind—you and I and every other person who has ever lived or ever will. After three days, Christ rose from the dead, having forever defeated evil and death, freeing us all from the chains of sin and shame. As the beloved poem goes, "God is not dead, nor doth he sleep."
By His blood we are reconciled with the Creator God, free to enjoy His presence and live generously, graciously, and mercifully, reflecting the goodness that Christ has shown us. By belief in the saving grace and goodness of Christ, redemption is ours, and giving its firstfruit.
As the conductor says, you just have to believe.
