I’ve never really liked Santa Claus.
Well, that’s not entirely true. When I was young, I was positively swayed by Santa stories. He was further reason to be a very good girl so as to merit his yearly benevolence. As a child, I learned about the goodness Santa magically delivered during a single, solitary night time flight across the world’s sky.
As I grew up, learned of the Christ child, and came to understand that Jesus Christ is the real reason for our rejoicing at Christmastime, I replaced my adulation of Santa with a sort of distain for him. No parental persuasion to this end. No formal teaching. Just something into which I grew. I guess I felt that Santa was a cheat of sorts, a replacement for Jesus, a distraction that lured children away from the Babe of Bethlehem.
Then some years back, I saw an image that shifted my perspective a bit.
Not this one exactly but one akin to it (I can’t find the original one I saw online anywhere at the time of this writing):
Santa himself worshipping the babe in the manager.
After seeing the image, I wondered if Santa was a Jesus worker, not so much an imposter, so I dug up some past to help me better understand the present.
Here’s some of what I learned.
Thought to have been born around 280 AD, a monk named St. Nicholas (living in what is now Turkey) was recorded to have been a very kind man. He was known and admired for his religious devotion and munificence.
In fact, legend has it that he selflessly disseminated all his wealth. Rather than plunder the rich to give to the poor, St. Nicholas was Robin Hood like in that he definitely helped the poor, but the one he robbed was himself.
Born into inherited wealth, his heart wasn’t attached to hereditary bestowed comforts. St Nicholas apparently saw value in a life without such things.
He took to roving the countryside in search of those who were sick and those who had meager possessions. As he found such ones, he did that which was in his power to do to help them.
I even read an account of St. Nicholas rescuing three sisters. Story has it that their father wanted to sell them into slavery or prostitution. St. Nicholas allowed no such thing to happen. He saved the ladies by conferring dowry money so they could marry.
What a good man bent on being useful and, in his mortal way, redemptive!
Truly a man who seems to have given up comforts and, in their place, found joy in his own hardship! A soul who found purpose in relieving suffering, offering hope, and spreading goodness.
Years passed, and St. Nicholas continued to be remembered and venerated (especially in Holland) – even after the Protestant Reformation.
In the 18th century, St. Nicolas found his way into American culture. In time and not too long thereafter, the jolly, red suited gent began appearing in parades, on street corners, and in shopping malls.
And now here we are…with Santas galore showing up at Christmas time.
The other night on our way home from the temple, my husband and I drove past a waving Santa and Mrs. Claus. As I saw them, I started to think, “Ugh, Santa,” but as we drove by and saw their smiling faces, I remembered the picture of Santa himself coming to adore and bow a knee before His king, Jesus.
And I remembered that Christmas is full of symbols.
One of which could be Santa.
With his red outfit, ebullient countenance, and generous gift giving, Santa does seem to remind me of goodwill. The greatest expression of benevolence came to us in the gift God sent: Jesus, the babe lying in swaddling clothes in a manager on that First Christmas so long, long ago.
Unto all the world: And so as I looked at Santa, I decided that maybe I do like him somewhat after all. Especially when I see him kneeling at the manager of Jesus.