Folktales and Christmas Classics (For Christmas 2025)

Is there a movie, song, or holiday special that you just have to see or hear in order to get in the mood to celebrate Christmas?

Is it one of the classics–Handel’s “Messiah”; George Bailey’s epiphany in “It’s a Wonderful Life?”; Scrooge’s change of heart in “A Christmas Carol"? Maybe it’s going to see the Rockettes at Radio City, or the look on Ralphie’s face when he almost shoots his eye out in “A Christmas Story.”

There’s Charlie Brown’s pitiful tree, Clark Griswold’s luminous house, Seinfeld’s “Festivus for the Rest of Us” episode, and Will Ferrell’s Buddy the Elf.

Perhaps you’ve been binging on Hallmark Channel Christmas movies since Halloween.

Whatever tops your list, I applaud it, and I think that it’s fair to say that these sights and sounds rightfully have a special place in our hearts at this time of year.

Far from detracting from the season, in my opinion, they add to it and remind us of the humorous, poignant, often beautiful magic of these Holy Days.

Addison Del Mastro comes to a similar conclusion in a piece he wrote for The Bulwark this week entitled “America’s Two Christmases—and Why They’re Both Pretty Great.”

Holding in tension Christmas’ religious significance and the cultural excesses associated with it, Del Mastro notes,

I observe Advent. I try to remember that quiet, expectant…thought that God walked on this earth.

But also, I must confess, I love the American secular Christmas. I love the Christmas songs on the radio for a month or more, the giant, tacky displays of artificial trees in every height and color in the stores, the inflatables ranging from Snoopy to Star Wars contraptions in the front yards, the dorky commercials rewriting carols and seasonal tunes with lyrics about going crazy while shopping. I love Frosty and Rudolph, the observation that “it’s a marshmallow world” when it snows, the general brightening up and enlivening of the winter….

He concludes,

None of this takes away from the “reason for the season.” Why should it? Why can a human heart, and our nation, not be big enough for all of it?

Since bad news and heartbreaks don’t ask our permission before bursting into our lives throughout the year, why shouldn’t we open ourselves to stories full of hope and love, dancing sugarplums, marching toy soldiers, and other assorted Christmas miracles as the year comes to an end?

The truth is that such stories have been a part of Christmas for ages.

There’s an old French Christmas carol and folktale called the “Friendly Beasts,” for example, that says that on the night that Jesus was born God blessed the animals in the manger with the ability to speak in gratitude for the hospitality that they showed the Christ Child and the Holy Family.

The legend recounts how the animals used their gift to praise God and to bear witness to the part they played in Jesus’ story.

“I,” said the donkey shaggy and brown, “I carried his mother uphill and down, I carried his mother to Bethlehem town; I,” said the donkey shaggy and brown.

The cow sang out, too, as did the sheep and dove. All of the animals sang in a glorious chorus of praise.

I absolutely love this carol.

I love it, in part, because like every other person who’s ever lived with a beloved pet, I’m convinced that there were moments when actual words were on the tip of my dog’s wagging tongue.

But its appeal goes much deeper.

I love the simple message of “The Friendly Beasts”--that everyone has a part to play in Creation’s redemption story.

Everyone of us has something worthwhile to contribute.

Everyone of us has a song a sing, and, like the manger animals, we’re invited to make it a chorus of praise.

What a beautiful thought!

If the animals could talk they would tell of the ways in which they graciously received the Christ child and worked to welcome him into the world.

If their barks, neighs, coos, and calls became clear, theirs would be a witness to the joy that one experiences when they find themselves in the right place and doing the right work that they recognize as holy and a gift from God.

Jesus our brother, strong and good, was humbly born in a stable rude, and the friendly beasts around Him stood, Jesus our brother, strong and good.

“The Friendly Beasts” invites us to consider how we will employ our gifts and talents—all that they have and all that they are—in welcoming Christ into our lives, into our time, into this world, just as the manger’s animals did so long ago.

And so it is that old French folktakes, like our favorite holiday movies and traditions, can bring a little magic into our lives tonight.

Such special moments and remembrances have a way of reminding us and empowering us to be present with grateful and open hearts at Christmas and to experience in greater measure the hope, light, joy, and peace Christ shares with the world.

So come, let us sing our songs of praise and adoration.

Let’s worship this barrier breaking Christ, who empowers us to love boldly, to live by the truth, and to forgive as we are forgiven.

Let’s lift our hearts and bow our egos as we live generously and humbly and as we renew our commitment to mend what’s been broken, to lift up the lowly, and to remember the poor.

Let’s treasure the magic of a night when animals talked and God became one of us.

Thus all the beasts, by some good spell, in the stable dark were glad to tell of the gifts they gave Emmanuel, the gifts they gave Emmanuel.

Thanks be to God and Merry Christmas! Amen.