Sometimes when I'm writing, I get to typing too fast. I'll jumble up letters in a word or just plain misspell it. So I went back over something I'd written the other day and found that, instead of "Santa Claus", I had typed "Satan Claws". "Oh," I thought, "that's not right."
Santa embodies the spirit of Christmas. He brings toys to all the good boys and girls and, let's face it, even to the bad ones. He gives them whatever they ask for and asks nothing in return. He's a jolly fellow, a real happy guy. He is Christmas personified. But don't think about that too long or you might end up in the same uncomfortable place that I have.
We all know that Christmas is actually about Christ. How do Santa and Christ compare? Well, Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, absolutely sure to keep His promises. What about Santa? Christ came preaching repentance, spoke often of hell, and warned of judgment. Santa has a list and checks it twice, sure, but who has ever really heard of anyone actually getting coal in their stocking? Christ's miraculous birth, perfect life, substitutionary death, and glorious resurrection provided the gift of justification by faith apart from works, the true Gospel. Santa's gift giving is predicated on works -- what Paul says is "not another gospel". Christmas is about Christ; Santa makes Christmas about me and what I can get. And how many of us have heard this? "When did you stop believing in Santa Claus?" "When I didn't get what I asked for." And when that little child realizes that Mom and Dad have been lying about Santa Claus all this time, it seems inevitable that they will ask, "What else have they been lying to me about? You know ... I've never seen Jesus, either."
I don't know ... the more I think about it, the less sure I become. The guy that's supposed to show up in the early hours of Christmas delivering joy for countless children seems more and more like a thief in the night. He steals joy and faith, robs us of the gospel, substitutes the misery of self-centeredness for the endless joy of Christ, breaks his promises, and misappropriates a true sense of judgment. He replaces Christ with self, the spirit of Christmas with the spirit of greed. I mean, how does the tale of a guy who gives me whatever I want teach me to give to others? It seems to me that "Satan Claws" is more appropriate than it first appeared.
5 comments:
Wow, Stan. "He knows when you are sleeping. He knows when you're awake", you know! You'd better be sleeping with one eye open in a couple weeks because he's going to be dropping a big ol' LOAD of coal on YOU now! It won't be just a couple pieces in a stocking.
My husband and I just couldn't bring ourselves to tell our sweet, little, bright-eyed, firstborn child that Santa was a real person who he could expect to show up at our chimneyless house with gifts his elves had made, so we didn't do it, with either him or with his siblings. I think they all turned out to be great kids in spite of being deprived of all that.
I still remember where I was sitting when my mom told me that what my classmates had told me was indeed true... that Santa was NOT real. (It's like how you remember where you were when you heard JFK had been shot or about 9/11.) I felt deceived, snd embarassed. (I had fought for Santa all the way home from school that day, planning to sit on his lap latter that evening at some store.) It had never made sense to me, however, that Santa would be in one store and then there he would be in another store, and yet my parents still maintained that he was real. I wonder when they were planning to tell me? I'd made it all the way to 6th grade believing in him! I didn't want to some day maybe put my own children through such trauma. And I wanted them to feel they could trust me when I told them other things were true.
I agree with all that you say about this Santa fellow. I hate all the greed and self-centeredness that comes with this worldly view of Christ's birthday celebration, but one thing I DO like about him (And by "him" I don't mean all the thousands of guys dressed in Santa suits. I mean the REAL MYTH. Heh.) is that I feel I DID come away from all that with the belief that my God, my Father in Heaven, is not some giant, fearsome, firy HEAD with a terrifying booming voice like the Wizard of Oz first appeared to be. He is not far, far way somewhere and almost unapproachable. But He actually is sometimes more like a jolly, kind, and loving father upon Whose knee I can sometimes climb up and sit and talk face-to-face, having His completely undivided attention for a few minutes even while there are lines of other "kids" standing there waiting their turns.
Like a lot of little kids, I was both excited to see Santa and a bit afraid of him at the same time. But, when at last it was my turn, his eyes were so kind and he listened with what appeared to be genuine interest and concern. (I bet a lot of those mall Santas truly wish they could give all those sweet little kids what they are wishing for!) THAT part of the Santa story I feel I was able to apply to my real life in a GOOD way.
It may sound sacrireligious to speak of our Almighty God as sometimes being "jolly", but when I consider how much we humans enjoy finding humor in things and some of the silly-looking animals He created, I can't help but think He probably has a twinkle in His eyes at times.
When I come before God and ask Him for something but don't get it by a certain date, I still believe in Him. I trust that He knows what and when things are best for me, because only HE has the overall picture of what lies ahead for all of us. Besides, until I die, there will always be next year! :o) Also, like Santa, He doesn't need a chimney to find a way to get in and bless me with gifts in the mornings when I wake up.
Oh, speaking of typos... I meant to say that I made it all the way to 6 YEARS old.
6 years old is better than 6th grade.
I worry about the number of people (adults, mostly, I think) who would get their image of God from the image of today's Santa. A jolly old guy who just wants to give us whatever we want. He threatens "Be good or else" but he never really intends to do anything about it. Too many people think of Him that way already.
I don't have much use for coal here in Arizona, but I suppose I could use the load he'll be bringing me somehow. ;)
Scrooge said:
"What else have they been lying to me about? You know ... I've never seen Jesus, either."
This is precisly why we don't do Santa Clause.
Whaddya mean, "there's no Santa"??!!
I think the problem with the Santa myth is that, like you indicate, it has NOT followed the story of what happens when a child is "naughty". I can understand parents breaking down and not wishing to see their kid endure the holiday without a gift, even knowing the kid didn't really deserve one. I remember one year having our gifts taken away as a punishment for a crime I don't recall. We eventually got them back, but a lesson was learned for sure. That wasn't Santa, though, because as soon as we had a sense that Christmas wasn't too far off, we began to regulate our behavior so as not to lose out. No. We got our gifts and THEN pissed off the old man!
But Santa is a works based dude. We were rewarded for good behavior. This isn't a bad thing to teach kids, especially when they are at an age where talk of souls and heavenly rewards don't resonate in their little minds. That is, bribery can work for ya. It's just that the plan fails if one fails to deprive the unruly child. He learns there really is no penalty for bad behavior.
For the Christian, however, all this must be done along side of, if not subordinate to the real message of the day. In my home this was the case. The church services, the Christian symbols and religious hymns, as well as the teachings from the nuns at school all kept things in proper perspective. And of course, if we DID get unruly, we were reminded of really Who was watching all the time, and how His opinion was far more important than Santa's.
Hey! Who you calling "Scrooge"? Oh, yeah ... that would be me.
In my growing up there was never any question about the reality of such a person. No such person existed. My parents used "Santa" as a name to put on extra gifts, but we all knew where they came from. And we all knew that Christmas was a celebration of Christ, not Santa. So "Santa" to us was simply another word for "generous parents" who gave more than we earned or deserved.
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