Belgium calls him le Père Noël and Brazil calls him Papai Noel, while America calls him Santa. Regardless, over two billion children all across the globe will wake up at different times on Christmas morning, each celebrating a Christmas laced with different versions of Father Christmas.
But what is Christmas really? Google or Bing this question and you may be amused-- or confused if you were actually looking for a decent answer. Links as numerous as the children in this world direct you to Christmas quotes of celebrities vowing that Santa Clause is real, famous novelists penning sappiness about hope and family and love, and pages of scripture printed in middle english language.
For some people, perhaps Christmas traditions hold the real meaning of Christmas. But for a person who grows up and doesn't feel like Christmas is special anymore, he or she no longer feels excitement purveying an odd Christmas tradition: a fully-wired tree that seems to grow shorter every year. For people who have pulled up roots more times than there are branches on the Christmas tree, there is truly no place that seems like home. Good food is not the answer either, since after two platefuls the average person feels genuinely near regurgitation and only continues to eat because food is still available. Presents are nice, but even those lose their sparkle as one grows older. No sweater stays new, no technology stays current, and no gift-card sits in the envelope forever. Additionally, it does not take long to figure out that Santa is at about five places in the mall at the same time on Christmas Eve, and while all of them are fat and jolly, none of them are real.
However, don't forget about the original Christmas story that seems even more impossible than a fat man squeezing down over two-billion chimneys on one night--the story of a virgin delivering a baby that would one day save the world from its sins. For children who grew up believing that fairy tales are real, the story of a little pauper king born in a manger may seem increasingly absurd as they grow older and may seem on the level with Cinderella getting her rags poofed into a ball-gown by an old woman with a wand. Nine reindeer? Three wisemen? What is the difference?
While Santa gives presents that meet the constantly changing demands of 2.2 billion children on one day a year, the baby Jesus gives one gift--eternal life-- that is offered year-round to children of all ages. Additionally, today's Santa never was a baby, never suffered from poverty, never had to respect his mother, and never offered to give up his own life to save another. Jesus, on the other hand, did all of those things, plus creating miracles for at least three years of his adult life. Santa's message? Pick something out at the mall, eat some good food, get a gift card, buy a new sweater. Jesus' message? I died for you so that you can have eternal life. As absurd as it may seem, I was born in a way that was humanly impossible, I suffered through a life in which I was constantly tested and expected to fail, and I died in agony for a world that didn't care.
Jesus' story is not one of joy until you hear the end of the story. Jesus was dead for three days and then God gave Him a new body. Jesus left his borrowed tomb and walked among his friends, probably startling them significantly. He promised that those who believed He is the Son of God and admitted they had sinned and deserved death would have eternal life -- a life in heaven instead of perpetual death in hell. Christmas obviously marks the day of his birth, the entry of a king into the physical world that brought great joy to thousands from times past to times present.
Miracles. Are these the things Christmas are made of? My family is growing up. All four of us kids are out of highschool, some of us married and some of us still in college. Already, life is so hard. My mom said that all she wants for Christmas is a miracle for each of her children: miracles necessary for dire situations of health, finances, and pregnancy.
Denial. I feel it seep through me like Peter's denial of Jesus, as though once the times are tough I no longer choose to believe in anything. But that's just it. Belief, hope, joy -- these are choices. The real Father Christmas is the one who sacrificed to give to children. And the real meaning of Christmas is that Jesus, the greatest gift, is a gift which equals other gifts in only one way: it can be accepted or rejected.
