Religion, with all its ritual and accoutrements, is inherently cinematic. But faith is a different story. Faith is about believing in what you can’t see. Consequently, it can be difficult to render in a medium as visual as film. That’s why so many religious movies are about dynamic episodes from the Bible or saints’ lives, as opposed to the sort of quiet, internal movements of faith that make up most of our lives.
A lot of Christmas movies are ostensibly about faith, although they often resort to some sort of visual pay-off. Take “The Santa Clause” (1994) or “The Polar Express” (2004), where the characters are so inundated with proof of the existence of Santa Claus that their continued skepticism becomes the most unbelievable element of the story. Anyone can believe if they have proof. Faith is believing when you have none, or even when there’s evidence to the contrary. For believers, the “evidence” of our faith is how it impacts our lives and the lives of those around us. That doesn’t look as exciting on film, but in our lives it’s extremely profound.
There is, however, one Christmas film that successfully dramatizes the experience of faith: the original “Miracle on 34th Street” (1947), written and directed by George Seaton based on a story by Valentine Davies. A department store Santa, Kris (Edmund Gwenn), believes that he’s the genuine article. He doesn’t have reindeer and he can’t slide down chimneys, but his kindness does have extraordinary effects, like inspiring his employer, Macy’s, to send customers to a rival store with better prices in a gesture of seasonal goodwill. He even warms the heart of his supervisor, the rigorously practical Doris (Maureen O’Hara), who only believes in what she can see and has raised her daughter, Susan (Natalie Wood), not to believe in fairytales. While most of Kris’s coworkers see his belief as a harmless delusion, a bitter doctor attempts to have him institutionalized. In response, Doris’ charming neighbor Fred (John Payne), who is also a lawyer, mounts a legal defense to prove that Kris is exactly who he says he is.
“Miracle of 34th Street” plays fair by never offering evidence that would definitively prove, or disprove, Kris’ claims. Anything that appears magical has a logical explanation. Miraculous things do happen, but in mundane ways. Macy’s sending customers to their competition, for instance: Kris does this out of genuine kindness, but it becomes company policy because Macy’s hopes to increase customer loyalty and profits down the line. Others have similarly earthly motives: a judge acts with reelection in mind and even Fred—more credulous than most—is hoping to impress Doris. But even those mundane miracles are initially inspired by genuine acts of faith: Kris’s at first, and then other characters as they come to believe.
Seeing the human machinery behind those miracles doesn’t make them any less extraordinary. The results, after all, are the same as if they had been accomplished by a thunderbolt from heaven. That’s how we most often see the fruits of faith in our lives: not tongues of flame or the stigmata, but by the ways our own lives and hearts change.
We have all heard, of course, that “blessed are those who have not seen and have believed” (Jn 20:29). “Miracle on 34th Street” suggests that we must believe in order to see. The events of the film are, for the most part, so ordinary that in real life they might escape our notice. But by believing, the characters reveal their miraculous nature. In the end, whether or not Kris is really Santa Claus is less important than what the characters, and the audience, believes. It’s belief that makes miracles happen.
“Miracle on 34th Street” is streaming on Disney+, Peacock and Paramount+.
