Security Blanket

"No problem is so big or so complicated that it can't be run away from." - Linus Van Pelt
That was the poster that I first hung on the wall of my room when I was in elementary school. That one, along with one of King Kong looming over the skyline of New York City with Fay Wray in his paw, made the trip downstairs as I moved into high school and papered the walls and the ceiling of my adolescent den.
For many years, I identified with Charlie Brown, specifically with his no-Valentine-unrequited-love-and-neurotic-dog lifestyle. It was accessible, and it was driven by the star turn Chuck had on a daily basis in that comic strip. It was years later that I began to find myself drawn toward Linus, that quiet voice of reason. Not that he was necessarily any better equipped than his round-headed pal to deal with life's bumps and bruises, but his ability to reflect on a situation and sum it up in a way that brought understanding to a place that was so full of questions: childhood.
I think about this as I reflect on Charlie Brown's plea for anyone who could explain the true meaning of Christmas. It is Linus who steps out into the spotlight and riffs briefly on a passage from Luke, and before he returns to his thumb and blanket, he tells CB, "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown." Hard to argue with a stately presence like that.
And then, decades later on my way to work last week, I found myself perplexed: How is it that this kid, so obviously full of brains and wisdom and Bible passages can be so hopelessly devoted to his singular obsession of The Great Pumpkin? He puts the kind of tireless energy and enthusiasm into his worship of this confused symbol of pagan worship? Periodically he finds himself tested by his peers for his commitment to a holiday hero that no one else seems to know about. And yet, Linus maintains that every year, the Great Pumpkin will rise out of the pumpkin patch that he deems the most sincere, spreading joy and treats to all those who truly believe.
His big sister Lucy is embarrassed beyond words, yet she remains vaguely supportive. I suppose you have to admire the perseverance little brother shows in the case of overwhelming pessimism and ridicule. Year after year, he sits out there in the pumpkin patch, waiting, only to face disappointment as November dawns. Linus is so very full of faith and will not bend to persecution. He truly believes that next year will be different.
And that's the meaning of faith, Charlie Brown.