The importance of being Linus

If you've ever seen A Charlie Brown Christmas, you know that it's about the title character's struggle with the production and commercialization of Christmas. Charlie Brown tries and tries to fit in with the season. He volunteers to direct the school play and then to go and find the perfect Christmas tree. He knows something is great about Christmas and he's trying to get in on it, but he just doesn't get it and disappointment lurks around the corner with every decision he makes.

In the end, Linus Van Pelt fills Charlie Brown in on what he's missing. He recites the angelic announcement of Christ's birth from the second chapter of Luke's Gospel.



The original hearers of that message, the shepherds of Bethlehem, would have been considered losers by just about anyone's standard. They were dirty and smelly from spending all of their time outside with their sheep. And shepherds, in that day, had the reputation of being vandals and thieves. These were not exactly the type of folks that would normally receive an invitation to a royal birth. But that's just what happened.

Charlie Brown is a lot like that. He didn't fit in with the other kids. He was always picked last for the team. He came home from trick-or-treating with a big bag of rocks. His own dog was more popular with girls. And he never kicked Lucy's football, no matter how hard he tried.

I like to say (though I'm not the first) that Linus was the greatest theologian of the twentieth century. He knew what Christmas was all about. And in the grand scheme of things, is there anything more important? All of history anticipates, looks back upon and makes little sense apart from the coming of Christ. What Christmas is about is what life is about.

I know... I know... that's a large, bold statement. I stand by it, though. Think about it. Every decision and significant event in a person's life is radically different if it's viewed through the lens of the Gospel. And, of course, the Gospel would be nothing if Jesus had never come.

Once again, consider Charlie Brown. After Linus' monologue, he still had to direct a Christmas play that was getting out of hand, he was still stuck with the dying Christmas tree he'd picked out, and he still lacked the acceptance from his peers that he so desired. And, he still never kicked that football away from Lucy. But, with a right understanding of God's love for him, Charlie Brown understood what was really important. Regardless of the external circumstances, he got Christmas and he got life.

So, my question is this: What do we do with Charlie Brown? What do we do with those people who don't know what Christmas or life is all about? What do we do with those people who disagree with us on the important issues? Do we write them off and seal ourselves away from them? Do we attack them? Or do we become a Linus in their lives?

It doesn't always come with a stage, a spotlight and a recitation of Luke, but we can show people that there is an answer to the question, "Isn't there anyone who knows what life is all about?" We can answer that question for friends and for strangers if we look for opportunities. It's done through actions and sometimes through words. It's done with love, understanding and humility, and never with manipulation, pressure or arrogance. And it's a beautiful thing.

I recently read that in the late 1980s, Charles Schultz, the creator of Peanuts, told a reporter that he'd stopped going to church and that he considered himself a "secular humanist." He went on to live for another decade or so after that interview and I don't know what his relationship with God was like before he died, but it kind of makes me sad that the man, who was, for all intents and purposes, the "real" Charlie Brown, didn't have a Linus to remind him what Christmas was all about.


Sources:

A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965).

David Templeton, "My Lunch with Sparky," reproduced from the December 30, 1999-January 5, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent. Available online here: htp://www.webcitation.org/5cfZdHu1o.