One of the things I hate about going
shopping during the season of the Christmas rush is the music that is piped in
over the mall sound system. I would happy with traditional renderings of
the old carols, but instead, my ears are assaulted with the latest auditory
atrocity, celebrating Christmas as a time of consumerism, indulgence, and fun
in the snow. And often, to make matters worse, we have St. Nicholas
forced to preside over all this—or, as he is described by these contemporary
songs, “jolly old St. Nick”.
Some of the transformation of St. Nicholas,
Archbishop of Myra in Lycia, into jolly ol’ St. Nick (aka “Santa Claus”) can be
laid at the door of the old 1822 poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” attributed
to Clement Clark Moore. It is more popularly known as the poem “Twas the
Night before Christmas”. Many details from the poem have become part of
the popular mythology of Santa Claus and his secret gift-giving on Christmas
eve. Stockings were hung by the chimney with care, and the children were
nestled all snug in their beds. St. Nicholas appeared on his miniature
sleigh full of toys, pulled by his eight tiny reindeer. This St. Nick
came down the chimney with a bound, the stump of a pipe held tight in his
teeth, his little round belly shaking when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
Not a lot of holy reverence here; he was a right jolly old elf, and the
householder laughed when he saw him, in spite of himself.
I think it is worth comparing this St.
Nicholas, who lives at the North Pole, with the real one, who lives in
heaven. The main contrasts are three in number.
First, the real St. Nicholas, as found
in his icons, is a lot thinner. That is, he points us toward asceticism
and self-denial as the prescribed path to fulfillment. The real St.
Nicholas is not portrayed iconographically as having a “little round belly,”
nor does he appear as “a right jolly old elf” who provokes involuntary
laughter. He appears as a man of God, a hierarch in the holy Church,
someone of a serene countenance who comes from much prayer and fasting.
Jolly ol’ St. Nick calls his followers to eating and spending sprees, to buying
more and more, even if they go into debt to pay for it, and his pre-Christmas
feast day is known as “Black Friday.” St. Nicholas the wonderworker of
Myra in Lycia calls his followers to take up their cross and follow Christ, and
his pre-Christmas feast day is marked on December 6, in the middle of a
fast. It is not characterized by a mad scramble to buy, but by worship of
the living God. But some festivity is allowed at a feast: we love
St. Nicholas so much that even on this fast day we are allowed fish, oil, and
wine.
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None of the above meditations are
offered in a Scrooge-like spirit. Contrasting the true St. Nicholas with
the false one does not imply that “Christmas is a humbug,” as the
pre-conversion Ebenezer thought. I like Christmas: the
tree-decorating, hearing from long-absent friends through Christmas cards, the
Christmas day turkey. I even like the gift-giving. I am not much
threatened by Santa Claus; I simply don’t mistake him for St. Nicholas.
That is, I think that however much (or little) we enjoy the pre-Christmas
season, we must discern that there are in fact two kinds of Christmas
celebrated concurrently in our culture. One is about consumerism and
over-indulgence, pure and simple. Jesus has little to do with it, which
is why in some places the public display of a crèche or saying “Merry
Christmas” provokes opposition. The other Christmas is our own Christian
feast, the commemoration (as the service book says) of “The Nativity according
to the Flesh of our Lord, God, and Saviour Jesus Christ.” We can partake
of both, so long as we remember which one has priority. The contrast
between jolly old St. Nick and the true St. Nicholas of Myra in Lycia reminds
us of the differences between the two Christmases.
Source: https://oca.org/reflections/fr.-lawrence-farley/the-real-st.-nicholas
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