Olive Crest United Methodist Church
7180 North 60th Street
Omaha, Nebraska 68152

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Rev. Debra Tompsett-Welch

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The Spiritual Life

December 1999

Who is this Santa Guy Anyway? Where did he come from and what does he have to do with Christmas?

By Rev. Michael Lee Burgess

Well it started with Saint Nicholas, who was born in Patara, a sea coast town in what is now Turkey. As a young boy he was very devout and under the influence of his uncle he became interested in the church and entered the ministry, becoming a major bishop of his day. He was a member of the First Council of Nicea in 325 AD, where he helped to establish the first cannon of the Bible and the Nicean Creed. He was well loved for his many acts of kindness and generosity. One of the most famous was when he saved three girls from slavery or prostitution by providing them each with a bag of Gold when their father became impoverished. As with many saints, stories of his good deeds and miracles spread. In Russia Saint Nicholas was named the patron saint of Russia as protector of the weak and poor; in Greece and Sicily the patron saint of boys, young men, and sailors; in the Netherlands he was the patron saint of children. In fact his fame grew so great that he was second only to Mary, the mother of Jesus, until the Protestant Reformation discouraged the practice of honoring saints, especially Saint Nicholas.

In response to the Reformation prohibitions, he was renamed "Father Christmas" in England, "Father Frost" in Russia, and "Pere Noel" in France. But the Dutch refused to go along with that and continued to honor the gift-giving bishop by celebrating the Feast of Saint Nicholas on December 6th, the Anniversary of his death. When the Dutch immigrants came to America in the eighteenth century they brought with them stories and Christmas customs of "Sinter Klass", which was what the New York Dutch called Saint Nicholas and from which we get the name Santa Claus. The Germans called him "Kriss Kringle" or "the Christ Carrier." When the Dutch settlers in New York City built their first church, they named it after Saint Nicholas. When Washington Irving wrote a history of the city, he satirized the bishop by calling him a buckskin-clad elf in a wagon drawl by a tiny horse. When in 1822, Clement C. Moore wrote a poem for his children "A Visit from St. Nicholas" he built upon Irving's images. The poem was later published as "'Twas the Night before Christmas" in 1823. In the poem he was now a "jolly old elf" with a "little round belly" and white beard and a pipe. Instead of a tiny horse and wagon he had a "miniature sleigh" pulled by "eight tiny reindeer". He was further popularized by Thomas Nast, who enjoyed drawing Moore's saintly elf for the Harpers Weekly magazine in the 1860s. But Santa Clause really took off when the Coca-Cola company commissioned an ad campaign in 1920 and had the artist Haddon Sundblom dress him in Coca-Cola red.

But all through his history of images, from Bishop and Saint of the Church known for his selfless giving, to jolly elf who selflessly gives gifts to children, we see an image of giving love. An image inspired by Christ's unselfish and abundant love demonstrated in the gift of salvation. The father of our present-day Santa Clause wore the stole, carried the staff, and on his head wore the miter of a bishop. The symbol of Christ's servant-hood, the Good Shepherd's love for his flock, and the "helmet of salvation" that always points others toward the abundant, unselfish love of God. (The Advocate, Dec, 17, 1998, quoted in The Interpreter Nov-Dec, 1999 pg 20, with additional material from These Twelve Days by James Kasperson & Marina D. Lachecki pg. 68)

So now we know where "Santa Claus" came from, and we can see past some of the commercial silly stuff, but how do we relate to him today? What can he mean for us now? My friend Gabrielle shared with me a joy from her childhood On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and now I am going to share it with you, in hopes that it might help you to see "Santa Claus" in our modern life.

"Then he ran his fingers through his hair and said, "I do with I had a team of horses." "Now, Charles," said Ma. "Here we are, all healthy, and safe and snug, with food for the winter. Let's be thankful for what we have." "I am," Pa said. "But Pete and Bright are too slow for harrowing and harvesting. I've broken up that big field with them, but I can't put it all in wheat, without horses." Then Laura had a chance to speak without interrupting. She said, "There isn't any fireplace." "Whatever are you talking about?" Ma asked her. "Santa Clause," Laura answered. "Eat your supper, Laura, and let's not cross bridges till we come to them," said Ma. Laura and Mary knew that Santa Claus could not come down a chimney when there was no chimney. One day Mary asked Ma how Santa Claus could come. Mad did not answer. Instead she asked, "What do you girls want for Christmas?" She was ironing. One end of the ironing-board was on the table and the other on the bedstead. Pa had made the bedstead that high, on purpose. Carrie was playing on the bed and Laura and Mary sat at the table. Mary was sorting quilt blocks and Laura was making a little apron for the rag doll, Charlotte. The wind howled overhead and whined in the stovepipe, but there was no snow yet. Laura said, "I want candy." "So do I," said Mary, and Carrie cried, "Tandy?" "And a new winter dress, and a coat, and a hood," said Mary. "So do I," said Laura. "And a dress for Charlotte, and-" Ma lifted the iron from the stove and held it out to them. They could test the iron. They licked their fingers and touched them, quicker than quick, to the smooth hot bottom. If it crackled, the iron was hot enough. "Thank you, Mary and Laura," Ma said. She began carefully ironing around and over the patches on Pa's shirt. "Do you know what Pa wants for Christmas?" They did not know. "Horses," Ma said. "Would you girls like horses?" Laura and Mary looked at each other. "I only thought," Ma went on, "if we all wished for horses, and nothing but horses, then maybe-" Laura felt queer. Horses were everyday; they were not Christmas. If Pa got horses, he would trade for them. Laura could not think of Santa Claus and horses at the same time. "Ma!" she cried. "There IS a Santa Claus, isn't there?" "Of course there's a Santa Claus," said Ma. She set the iron on the stove to heat again. "The older you are, the more you know about Santa Claus," she said. "You are so big now, you know he can't be just one man, don't you? You know he is everywhere on Christmas Eve. He is in the Big Woods, and in Indian Territory, and for away in York State, and here. He comes down all chimney's at the same time. You know that, don't you?" "Yes, Ma," said Mary and Laura. "Well," said Ma. "Then you see-" "I guess he is like angels," Mary said slowly. And Laura could see that, just as well as Mary could. Then Ma told them something else about Santa Claus. He was everywhere, and besides that, he was all the time. Whenever anyone was unselfish, that was Santa Claus. Christmas Eve was the time when everybody was unselfish. On that one night, Santa Claus was everywhere, because everybody, all together, stopped being selfish and wanted other people to be happy. And in the morning you saw what that had done. "If everybody wanted everybody else to be happy, all the time, then would it be Christmas all the time?" Laura asked, and Ma said, "Yes Laura." Laura thought about that. So did Mary. They knew what Ma wanted them to do. She wanted them to wish for nothing but horses for Pa. The looked at each other again and they looked away quickly and they did not say anything. Even Mary, who was always so good, did not say a word. That night after supper Pa drew Laura and Mary close to him in the crook of his arms. Laura looked up at his face, then she snuggled against him and said, "Pa." "What is it, little half-pint of sweet cider?" Pa asked, and Laura said, "Pa, I want Santa Claus-to bring-" "What?" Pa asked. "Horses," said Laura. "if you will let me ride them sometimes." "So do I!" said Mary. But Laura had said it first. Pa was s urprised. His eyes shone soft and bright at them. "Would you girls really like horses?" he asked them. "Oh yes, Pa!" they said. "In that case," said Pa, smiling, "I have an idea that Santa Claus will bring us a fine team of horses." That settled it. They would not have any Christmas, only horses. Laura and Mary soberly undressed and soberly buttoned up their nightgowns and tied their nightcap strings. They knelt down together and said, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take, and please bless Pa and Ma and Carrie and everybody and make me a good girl for ever'n'ever Amen." Quickly Laura added, in her own head, "And please make me only glad about the Christmas horses, for ever'n'ever amen again." She climbed into bed and almost right away she was glad. She thought of the horses sleek and shining, of how their manes and tails blew in the wind, how they picked up their swift feet and sniffed the air with velvety noses and looked at everything with bright, soft eyes. And Pa would let her ride them." (pages 82-86)

What do you want Santa Claus to bring you? Do you want it to be Christmas all the time? What could be done if where everybody wanted everybody else to be happy, all the time? What do you think the kingdom of God looks like? What can we give God when at last we remember to be unselfish? I hope that on Christmas, when we remember God coming to us in love, at the cost of the life of his son, I might remember to be a little like Santa Claus, and give unselfishly of myself to those around me and to God's family here on earth.

May God Bless You this Christmas, and the whole of your life;

Your brother-in-Christ, Reverend Michael Lee Burgess

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