The morbidness of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer - Revealing systems of sin

The more that I reflect on this little song the more it is clear to me how it functions like a short understanding of Rene Girard's theory of Mimetic desire and sacred violence. Take a look at each section of the song:

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw it you would even say it glows. All of the other reindeer, used to laugh and call him names. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games.

Notice that Rudolph is identified by what makes him different and odd. Just like any scapegoat is a deemed odd by the group. Also notice the power of the mob and how the mob seeks to justify its action - if you ever saw how weird this guy was you too would do what the group would do. The oddity of the victim makes him the butt of jokes and further ostracizing. Additionally the victim is never allowed to be a part of the "normal" group/mob's games. This sets Rudolf up as a ready scapegoat when a need arises. 

Then there is a crisis, or a scandal:  

Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say, "Rudolph, with your nose so bright, Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

With any crisis, the community needs resolution or, as Girard says, "the social fabric will burst". So the mob uses a scapegoat to ease the crisis. In this case, the crisis is set and so they put Rudolph in the lead position, so that if anything goes wrong, we can all blame Rudolph and his obvious inability to lead or be a contributing member of the community. Also it is worth noting that our imaginations have several reindeer pulling the sleigh, the song can also suggest that there is only one reindeer pulling the sleigh, and in the time of great crisis and most danger the one selected is the "odd one" who will not be missed if unsuccessful. 

With little choice, Rudolph leads the sleigh and we hold our breath to see if the would be scapegoat dies or lives. The next part of the song is a little fuzzy on it's timeline:

Then all the reindeer loved him, as they shouted out with glee! Rudolph the red-nose Reindeer, you'll go down in history!

This line is often understood as "the end" of the story, after Santa's delivery on the sligh. But it could just as easily be read as before the foggy night delivery. As soon as the scapegoat is selected, there are shouts of great joy. And when the scapegoat is selected, the community begins to further justify the decision to scapegoat the victim - there is a promise that the scapegoat will "go down in history". Tales will be told of all the "Great Rudolph" and how he was able to quell the crisis. This happens with Presidents of the U.S.A as well. No matter what the approval rating of the president in the moment, once out of office many people have a idealized memory of them (Regan, Bush, Clinton, etc.). 

Truth be told, we do not know the fate of Rudolph. Did he succeed in guiding the sleigh? We don't know from the song. The only thing we do know is that since Rudolph's time there has never been another foggy night/crisis on Christmas Eve again. And because Rudolph brought about the end of all future foggy night/crisis, Rudolph is recalled as the greatest reindeer of all. As the beginning of this morbid tale suggests:

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen; Comet and Cupid and Donder and Blitzen, but do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?

I am not trying to be a downer this season. And I could totally be way wrong on this interpretation. The reason I point this all out is to highlight that it is very easy to whitewash a story that could be very tragic and make it seem like the mob was in the right the whole time. The Gospels make it clear that the mob is actually the one that is constantly wrong. 

This is what makes, in part, the Gospels different from other myths, legends, tales and fables. 

Warning: Translating can lead to whiplash

Radiolab recently had a number of short stories they put together in an episode they called "Translation". In it there is a short story of a telephone translator. This is someone who sits in a room and waits for the phone to ring. When it does they answer it and begin to translate for the two people on the phone. For instance, if you call to book a hotel in France but don't speak French, there are people who will translate your conversation with the hotel and they to you. I have never heard of this service, but it makes sense. 

The story goes on and you hear of a translator who sat in a room, the phone rang and on the other end you heard a woman whisper that "he is going to kill me." You should really listen to this podcast to get the sense of the intensity of this moment but it does not end with any clarity. The intense phone call just ends. 

The translator, not sure if she just translated the last words of a woman who was murdered or the victim of a cruel prank, has to hang up the phone and wait for the next call to come in to continue translating, perhaps something as mundane as booking a hotel room. 

This is very similar to what many clergy go through every Sunday. Someone will tell you about the test result they got back and how life is going to be shorter than expected and then you turn around to hear someone overjoyed that their football team won the day before. Then you turn around to hear a man lost his job and a woman lost her marriage, then a kid runs up to you and shows you his handprint turtle and a teen shares she just landed the lead in the musical. 

I am sure this emotional whiplash is not limited to the calling of the clergy, you may experience this everyday as well. You may not. I can say this is another very big reason why clergy need to be rooted in spiritual disciplines, self reflection and humility. If not, this whiplash can break your neck and spirit. 

I have written about the face of God before, so this may be redundant to you, but one of the things that makes God different from humans is God's ability to see all the joy and pain in the world and not die.

What the Dwarf teaches us about Christmas

A previous post highlighted a story told about John the Dwarf of the Christian tradition. It was about his willingness to water a dry bit of wood for three years until it bore fruit. Continuing to share some sayings of the desert from Merton's book here is another John the Dwarf story:

ONCE some of the elders came to Scete, and Abbot John the Dwarf was with them. And when they were dining, one of the priests, a very great old man, got up to give each one a little cup of water to drink, and no one would take it from him except John the Dwarf. The others were surprised, and afterwards they asked him: How is it that you, the least of all, have presumed to accept the services of this great old man? He replied: Well, when I get up to give people a drink of water, I am happy if they all take it; and for that reason on this occasion I took the drink, that he might be rewarded, and not feel sad because nobody accepted the cup from him. And at this all admired his discretion.

In this season of gift giving, we can forget that gift giving can be a form of power. In the words of Bishop Will Willimon:

"We prefer to think of ourselves as givers -- powerful, competent, self-sufficient, capable people whose goodness motivates us to employ some of our power, competence and gifts to benefit the less fortunate. Which is a direct contradiction of the biblical account of the first Christmas. There we are portrayed not as the givers we wish we were but as the receivers we are. Luke and Matthew go to great lengths to demonstrate that we -- with our power, generosity, competence and capabilities -- had little to do with God’s work in Jesus. God wanted to do something for us so strange, so utterly beyond the bounds of human imagination, so foreign to human projection, that God had to resort to angels, pregnant virgins and stars in the sky to get it done. We didn’t think of it, understand it or approve it. All we could do, at Bethlehem, was receive it."

So may we all be givers like the very great old man in the story. And may we also be like John the Dwarf who was humble enough to receive so that others can experience the joy (and power) of giving a gift.