Unloading the Sleigh

Bear with me? This is a Monday morning rant.

Check out this atheist billboard that showed up a couple years ago on a Tennessee roadside. 

Gives a little pause to the Claus, doesn't it, seeing the atheists' take on him? But can we be surprised really?

Santa has so taken over the Christmas season, and the humanist religion so taken over our culture that the pancake has, indeed, flipped.  The fairy tale is Christ, the reality is Santa.  Don't kid yourself thinking that this is not the true mentality, that it's just the atheists who think this way, or the liberal media that pushes it; it really has become the reality in our world.   And the American Atheists organization has just been bold enough to put* it right out in the open.

Yeah, I know.  I'm a Scrooge, aren't I?

But, look around you.  As Christians we find ourselves in the position of defending ourselves on every quarter.  In the public domain, the name of Jesus is taboo; our schools have banned Him, our media rejects Him.  As a Christian holiday, Christmas barely holds its own.  As a campaign for overindulgence, however, it's thriving -- and Santa is the advertising gimmick.*

Anyone still with me?  I know it's a bitter pill to swallow; nobody wants to think ill of Mr. Clause.   Believe it or not, I rather like the ole guy, myself.  How could I not?  He's the symbol of a snuggly happy Christmas, the icon of generosity and good will -- and the non-religious, homogenized symbol of the season.  No longer really associated with the real St. Nicholas, he's safe for all denominations -- including atheism.

Christians in recent years have rebelled against the homogenized, non-religious greeting:  Happy Holidays.  Why don't they have the same problem with Santa, I wonder?

I have a story to share about Santa.*  My parents, like their parents and everyone else we knew, played along with the Santa story when I was a kid.  Every year, my brothers and sisters and I woke up on Christmas morning to a house full of gifts magically transported to our home via magic sleigh and reindeer.  We eagerly checked the cookies we always left on the coffee table to see if Santa had taken a bite or two.  He always had.  Those teeth marks could be no one's but Santa's!  He had really come to our humble home, and look at all the presents he brought!  What fun!  We dived into Santa story like everyone else, with unquestioning enthusiasm. Why wouldn't we? * Mommy and Daddy wouldn't tell us something that wasn't true.  Right?

My siblings never even questioned it -- but I was a stinker.  I started putting two and two together when I was around nine years old.  I remember well -- it was an important transition in my life as a child!

 Lying in bed one night a few days before Christmas, I posed a few questions to my little sister. 1) Why did Mommy keep going out in the evenings so much before Christmas?   2)  Why weren't we allowed to go anywhere near her closet?  3) How could one man bring presents to every single house in the world in one night -- even allowing for time zone changes?  4) How could he really know what everyone wanted?  5)  Was he like God or what? 

And I went on and on, mercilessly, thinking aloud until my sister, crying, went downstairs to tell on me.  I was called down -- and my parents told me the truth. They were a little miffed at me for trying to spoil Christmas for my little sister.  But that really wasn't what I was after!  In fact, I was expecting to be called downstairs and given my parents' reassurance that Santa was real -- with proofs. In my heart of hearts, I was counting on it.  I didn't expect my parents to tell me I was right and admit that Santa was a fake! And, then to charge me (under threat of serious consequences) to never ever breathe a word of the truth to anyone, but to go along with the Santa thing -- because it was just a fun little thing we do at Christmas.

Hm.  Fun.

So, I was properly chastised.  I showed a brave face to my parents, apologized as required, but I went upstairs, thankful my sister was asleep so I didn't have to say anything to her to cover for my parents -- but it was my turn to cry.  And I did cry -- most of the night.  The magic was gone, you see -- and my own stupid logical brain had ruined it for me. But, that wasn't all; there was a worse heartache.  The more I thought about it, the more it sank in that it really was all a lie. Christmas was a lie.  My parents had been lying to me all the years of my life -- had been lying to all of us, and now I was supposed to lie, too.

This was a terrible spot to be put into as a child.  I had received my first Holy Communion, had learned to confess my sins to the priest, and knew I was supposed to be good for love of God, but now I was being told to lie -- and it was not only OK, but I was in trouble if I didn't. What on earth...?  I knew lying was a sin -- why wasn't this lie a sin?  Or was it?

And then, there was this:  Santa.  I'd never seen him with my own eyes, only saw the fruits of his goodness and I had believed on my parents' word that he was real -- but he was a lie.  So, what about God?  I'd never seen Him with my own eyes, either -- but believed on my parents' word that He was real?  What about the angels?  What about the miraculous lives of the saints?  What was real?  What could I trust?  Was everyone lying about everything?  Even the teacher at school?

My faith in everything was shaken.  The foundation of my faith suffered a terrible blow -- and I don't honestly think I was able to start rebuilding it until I was a teenager, met some good teaching Sisters -- and began to understood some of the foolishness of our culture and the steadfastness of my Church.  

But, really?  It was by the grace of God that I rediscovered my faith.  And thanks to Himself, real, true, living, and always on my case, I  regularly rediscover it to this day.

So... What are you thinking? Yeah. I guess it's possible that I was a very strange little girl.  (I'm sure I was....  And still am.)

Surely all children aren't crazy like me, right?  But, seriously...  how can we know which of our children might lose the underpinnings of their faith when they learn the truth about Santa: the truth that their parents have been lying? There are a lot of born "thinkers" in the world, and everyone is born wanting to trust -- especially their parents.  Don't we owe our children the truth -- always?  So much in our world is upside down these days. Fairy tales are real (ever catch a reality show?); reality is dismissed (notice what you don't see on the news lately?).  Within our homes, we may teach that Christ is real but our children go out in the world and learn that material gratification is more real.  The baby doll in the creche has the same reality as the Elf on a Shelf -- and isn't as entertaining.  Don't kid yourself if you don't think this is a real danger.  It's a hard truth that the Santa myth turns the holy season of Advent into a big game of make-believe for profit.  The Christ Child is a side note at best in our culture.

The atheists nailed it.  That billboard in Tennessee illustrates the problem exactly.   Why do we so blithely toy with our children's trust by playing the Santa game when our world is so complicated and real faith is so important? 

In this world of lies, we must be the predictable and trustworthy voice of truth for our children. We should not be the odd ones out because we prefer the following billboard. But we are. Even among many of our Catholic friends. Sad.