It’s the Christmas season and I have a confession to make. I used to believe in Santa Claus. My brother and two sisters did, too. Santa was way cool. He brought gifts.
That was when we were kids, decades ago. Yes, I know a guy named Saint Nicholas probably started the tradition of delivering presents mysteriously back when much of the world was Christian, but by the time I was a kid Santa was an icon in a fully developed consumer religion. We loved him.
My family practically worshipped Santa at our house in Ohio back in the sixties. We sang songs about him, drew pictures of him, and wrote what-I-want-for-Christmas wish lists to him. We lit candles made in his image (and watched his head melt). And we ate Santa cookies, making sure to nibble off his arms and legs first. We were told to be good because he was coming. He was the gift giver.
My brother, two years older, became a growing skeptic and decided Claus was a phony. He pointed out that Santa’s wrapping paper exactly matched the stuff Mom and Dad used. He also claimed that Santa couldn’t be in two different places at once. I had to think about that. In the month of December Santa seemed omnipresent. He could be standing on a nearby street corner ringing a Salvation Army bell, riding in a sleigh on a live television broadcast in another state, and sitting on a throne in the department store right in front of you, all at the same time. I suppose my tender young brain preferred denial to sound logic. After all, only one real Santa was needed, even if there were multiple imposters. He brought gifts.
Bing Crosby, the crooning baritone, seemed to think Santa was all-knowing. He sang about him like this.
He sees you when you’re sleeping.
He knows when you’re awake.
He knows if you’ve been bad or good,
So be good for goodness sake.
You better watch out. You better not cry.
You better not pout. I’m telling you why.
Santa Claus is comin’ to town.
He’s making a list. He’s checking it twice.
He’s gonna find our who’s naughty or nice.
Santa Claus is comin’ to town.
My brother convinced me before I started shaving that Santa wasn’t really comin’ to town. It had been Mom and Dad stuffing presents under the tree all along. So I stopped believing. Maybe you should, too.
My family practically worshipped Santa at our house in Ohio back in the sixties. We sang songs about him, drew pictures of him, and wrote what-I-want-for-Christmas wish lists to him. We lit candles made in his image (and watched his head melt). And we ate Santa cookies, making sure to nibble off his arms and legs first. We were told to be good because he was coming. He was the gift giver.
My brother, two years older, became a growing skeptic and decided Claus was a phony. He pointed out that Santa’s wrapping paper exactly matched the stuff Mom and Dad used. He also claimed that Santa couldn’t be in two different places at once. I had to think about that. In the month of December Santa seemed omnipresent. He could be standing on a nearby street corner ringing a Salvation Army bell, riding in a sleigh on a live television broadcast in another state, and sitting on a throne in the department store right in front of you, all at the same time. I suppose my tender young brain preferred denial to sound logic. After all, only one real Santa was needed, even if there were multiple imposters. He brought gifts.
Bing Crosby, the crooning baritone, seemed to think Santa was all-knowing. He sang about him like this.
He sees you when you’re sleeping.
He knows when you’re awake.
He knows if you’ve been bad or good,
So be good for goodness sake.
You better watch out. You better not cry.
You better not pout. I’m telling you why.
Santa Claus is comin’ to town.
He’s making a list. He’s checking it twice.
He’s gonna find our who’s naughty or nice.
Santa Claus is comin’ to town.
My brother convinced me before I started shaving that Santa wasn’t really comin’ to town. It had been Mom and Dad stuffing presents under the tree all along. So I stopped believing. Maybe you should, too.
I don’t want to spoil the harmless delusions of children with holiday visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads, but I do think we have an ongoing Santa problem in American culture. Some of us act like God is a cosmic Chris Cringle who always delivers presents even though he threatens not to. We imagine He lets everybody into his heaven, and that hell is simply the proverbial lump of coal that nobody really gets in their Christmas stocking. We think He’s too jolly to actually punish people. I often go out sharing the Gospel with strangers and many of them seem to regard God as a wrathless sugar daddy who hangs out in the great beyond, waiting to answer prayers like Santa in his toy shop at the North Pole. Is this true?
Here’s the bad news, first, from the Bible: All have sinned. (Romans 3:23a) The wages of sin is death. (Romans 6:23) Sinners don’t go to heaven. (Corinthians 6:9) Yikes, it looks like everybody gets an F on their moral report card. No promotion. No admittance. We all get death and hell. Merry Christmas.
But heres’s the good news: The Bible says that every good gift comes from God (James 1:17) and that God will give us a new heart with His Spirit in it. (Ezekiel 36:26-27) God saves us by His free grace (Ephesians 2:4-9), and he gives such things as righteousness, sincerity, purity, humility, and wisdom to those who ask in faith. Even repentance is a gift from God. (see Acts 5: 31-32) I think we should ask for more of this good stuff. Forget the Harry and David fruit basket this year. Instead, go for the fruit of the Holy Spirit, which includes love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:14)
God's greatest gift of all was giving himself in the person of Christ Jesus. God is no Santa in the sky who chooses to ignore our sins for the sake of holiday cheer. Far from it, He is just and holy, and reconciles us to Himself by paying for our sins through the shed blood and death of His Son. Our pardon was purchased at great cost to God, but it is free to us who believe. Isn’t that good news?
I have another confession to make. My own five children have never believed in Santa Claus. I chose not to repeat my parent’s gleeful deception about a jolly fat man with a long white beard, who squeezes down chimneys with a sack of toys each Christmas. We do, however, enjoy singing songs about somebody comin’ to town with good gifts. We look forward to Christ’s return and His righteous reign, wherein He will say, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” (Matthew 25:34).
Are you ready? Better watch out.
Here’s the bad news, first, from the Bible: All have sinned. (Romans 3:23a) The wages of sin is death. (Romans 6:23) Sinners don’t go to heaven. (Corinthians 6:9) Yikes, it looks like everybody gets an F on their moral report card. No promotion. No admittance. We all get death and hell. Merry Christmas.
But heres’s the good news: The Bible says that every good gift comes from God (James 1:17) and that God will give us a new heart with His Spirit in it. (Ezekiel 36:26-27) God saves us by His free grace (Ephesians 2:4-9), and he gives such things as righteousness, sincerity, purity, humility, and wisdom to those who ask in faith. Even repentance is a gift from God. (see Acts 5: 31-32) I think we should ask for more of this good stuff. Forget the Harry and David fruit basket this year. Instead, go for the fruit of the Holy Spirit, which includes love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:14)
God's greatest gift of all was giving himself in the person of Christ Jesus. God is no Santa in the sky who chooses to ignore our sins for the sake of holiday cheer. Far from it, He is just and holy, and reconciles us to Himself by paying for our sins through the shed blood and death of His Son. Our pardon was purchased at great cost to God, but it is free to us who believe. Isn’t that good news?
I have another confession to make. My own five children have never believed in Santa Claus. I chose not to repeat my parent’s gleeful deception about a jolly fat man with a long white beard, who squeezes down chimneys with a sack of toys each Christmas. We do, however, enjoy singing songs about somebody comin’ to town with good gifts. We look forward to Christ’s return and His righteous reign, wherein He will say, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” (Matthew 25:34).
Are you ready? Better watch out.
