Spiritual Issue Surrounding Santa and Christmas

Following the previous post, I wanted to share my recent thoughts on the Santa issue. I recently was corresponding with a friend on whether as a Christian we should espouse the Santa myth with our kids. I certainly don't profess to be a learned biblical scholar, but I hope after 28 years of walking the Christian walk that I would have learned that we can't even scratch the surface of understanding God or knowing the depths of his mercy or grace. In the end, whether its right or wrong is a personal question which only you can answer with what God is asking of you. As for me.... I would grieve the loss of joy that Santa brings to the lives of my children in this blessed time of year, as long as they see him as a messenger of Jesus' message and not the object of it. Here's my thoughts as I wrote to this life long friend. Figured its an issue we all come to face.

Hey W,

It's kind of funny that you brought this up. We recently were struggling with the Santa issue when a couple of our neighbor's kids told Josh (my 6 year old) that Santa wasn't real. To be very honest, Angela and I were very upset about it. Faced with the point blank question (Is he real?) we came clean, but talked with him about the real St. Nick and that the message behind the Santa Claus story was of selfless giving and appreciating the ultimate gift that the Lord gave to us and also gave him the reasons to keep the secret not to spoil it for the other children who still believed. From a very young age, we've always told our children that Santa was giving them presents in commemoration of Jesus' birthday. Instilling in them that he loved us so much that he wanted to give us the presents on his birthday. In that way, we included Santa as a messenger and not the object of the season. Paul in his various letters to the churches urged us to be salt and light, but also to be balanced in all things. I truly believe that this is one of those areas, that the Lord did the switch on Satan... what he meant for evil... pagan holiday celebrating winter solstice... the Lord commandeered to celebrate his son's birth. Our refusing to go along, only ruins his joke!

As a Christian, I know all of the secular roots behind the "Modern Christmas Holiday" and I agree that there has been a concerted effort to remove Christ from Christmas and the real meaning behind the season at times is lost, but I have such joyous memories of Christmas and Santa and the whole magic of the season. I once heard my former pastor from Bay St. Louis give a message on Santa.. coming to the conclusion that if a minister couldn't find the redemption and salvation story as an overriding theme in the midst of the Santa legend, then they should get into another line of work. I have to agree completely with him. As a parent, I have taken great delight in seeing my sons' expressions on Christmas morning and playing up the Santa visit, but they've never lost sight of the reason for Christmas and what the celebration was truly about.

I truly believe that God sees and judges the heart, and that our celebrating his son's birth on December 25th or October 31st would not be an issue in our salvation or walk with him. As I see it, we should view each day as a gift. Some Christians are very confused in this area and I would not belittle or begrudge them for following their conscience in this area but I grieve for their kids who are denied joy by a religious spirit hang up. However, I can find no fault in my spirit or motives when I perpetuate the Santa myth, to bring a small measure of fantasy to my childrens' Christmas. As I see it, there are often too many things in this life that seek to steal their joy and innocence, as well as their child like faith that anything is possible. For that reason, there will always be a Santa in my Christmas and I hope in the lives of my children.

Jay

Santa Dilemma

My six year old son recently came home in tears, he was playing with two of our neighbors' children. These children were two of our kids' best friends. Through the stream of tears, he cornered my wife asking if Santa was real because his friends had told him that Santa was not real. Needless to say, my wife and I came clean with my tender hearted little boy explaining about St. Nick and reinforcing the meaning of Christmas. In our house Santa had always proclaimed..... Jesus loved us so much and gave the ultimate gift for us and to honor that gift we would give to others. In continuing that love, Jesus on his birthday would give us all of his presents.

Anyway, a friend recently wrote me with a touching story about this very touchy subject. I hope the story touches your heart as much as it did mine.

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered.
"Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so.

It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" She snorted ....."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.

That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car. "Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends , my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.

Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care....

And may you always believe in the magic of CHRISTmas and Santa Claus!

- Unknown