Why We Don't

 

Why We Don’t

     “Santa Claus, Santa Claus is coming to town…”  We all know the jingle and how it describes his duties and abilities.  Very nearing God-status in seeing us while we are sleeping and knowing our moral nature, the jolly man Santa Claus is a eurythmic offering of a tantalizing season bent on fulfilling materialistic wants of children in suspense.

     This syrupy gloss blurs little one’s eyes with the lighting of the tree, making cookies, and further traditions that set off this time as special.  At the nucleus lies the getting of gifts and exploring the stockings hung in care.  What kid does not like the idea of new toys, ripping the wrapping in a flurry of excitement in one intense moment?  Birthday on steroids?  Christmas present morning is like a cocaine rush for little tykes.  Dopamine falls from its stored state and pleasure rushes to their extremities as lightning.  So, it is Christmas.  A time of getting.

     Can Jesus in a manger compete with this?  Yes.  If gift giving is done in a careful and explained manner.  Thoughtfulness outside oneself is a learned thing.  This season provides ample opportunity for a person to consider the needs of others and how they might make them happy.  No harm in this.

     Santa Claus or Satan’s Claws can meddle.  If we must lie to the child to add a spin of mystery on a holiday of personal gain, then doubt is seeded early on.  At church, we rehearse the Christmas pageant complete with shepherds and wise men.  The child in the front row takes it all in.  Somehow it is to make sense as we base characters on an ancient book called the Bible.  It’s a warm feeling as lights lower and focus on the manger.  God has visited us.  They get it.

     At home is another story, literally.  Rudolf and Frosty dominate the T.V. waves.  The teacher works her wonders of the flatscreen with interspersed commercials for toys aimed at kinder of applicable age.  Suddenly their minds are sucked into oblivion swirled with stripes like a candy cane in sweet nirvana.  This transcendent state elevates consciousness and convinces them they are the gifted.  Afterall, Santa makes a list and checks it twice.  Who is naughty, who is nice.

     The danger of the Santa story is not the contagion he propagates.  As my pastor has said, “It confuses them.”  Two competing stories.  Jesus’ birth is told in parallel with the fat man’s then intertwined together weaving about their cerebellums.  What is known about Christmas is constructed as a DNA matrix stretched until the child comes of age and Santa is fully realized.  When one leg of the ladder is dissolved, it leans and topples not supporting rungs any longer.  Hence, Biblical faith suffers as Santa fades.

     Stories we tell children.  They look up to us to define reality for them.  What is real flows from our lips and our behavior shows them accordingly. We use holidays to cement truths from history.  From Christmas to Easter to Thanksgiving, we will issue stand downs to pause for belief injection.  Special days call for special explanations.

     What we don’t do is the Santa Claus thing.  Lying still makes God’s big ten.

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