An Anatomy of Santa Clause

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santalovesrichkidsYesterday, I was recounting the day I learned that Santa Clause was, in fact, not real. Perhaps some of you will relate with the emotion I experienced.

I was around 11. A schoolmate mocked me for referencing my excitement at Santa’s soon visit. I was completely puzzled. What in the world were they talking about?! Surely there must be a…..mistake!

I immediately questioned my mother that evening, absolutely certain she would confirm my suspicions that my schoolmate must have just been a naughty, deprived young man.

In response, she asked, “What do you want to believe?”

My confidence began to wane, “The truth.”

She begrudgingly agreed. Not with me, but with my schoolmate. Santa Clause was her, she was Santa- there. was. no. Santa.

I remember the feeling that I had been gutted, entirely. As if a loved one had died. At once, I questioned my whole childhood. Every Christmas Eve I laid in bed, listening for the clickety-click of reindeer paws on my roof. I was eager to run down and look at the crumbs left behind from freshly-baked cookies we’d left for Santa’s enjoyment. My mom would always go downstairs ahead of my brothers and I to “check and make sure” Santa had come, which only bolstered the excitement in those very early-morning hours.

Now what did I have to look forward to?!

I also remember staring up in the night sky, imagining the very same stars looking down on a baby Jesus, asleep in the manger many, many years prior. I tried to imagine what the cold must have felt like to his tender little skin. What the scratchiness of the hay would have felt like. My imagination spurred on by the numerous nativity scenes we’ve all become quite accustomed to. Of course, I’ve now learned these nativity scenes are not the nativity depiction of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus but of Nimrod, Isis, and Tammuz; not the Son of God, but the sun god.

On this note, I’m no longer saddened that Santa isn’t real, nor am I sad that my Savior hates Christ-mass. I love the Truth. I have received the love of the Truth, a gift from my Father in Heaven.

I would like to pass along information your way: the tale of Woden, who is widely anticipated to be sojourning around the world this very evening.

From an article regarding ‘Christmas and its Songs”:

“Meanwhile, far to the north of Rome, Celtic and Teutonic tribes had developed gods and rituals of their own to assure protection and assistance in the new year. Woden (Odin in Scandinavian countries) (the father of the gods/the sun god), a giant fellow who wore a floppy, wide-brimmed hat and rode an incredibly swift, eight-legged horse, was their chief god. Warlike, but very wise, Woden fought against the giants in the earth that were constantly seeking to destroy his people.”

What follows is a depiction of the Celtic “Saturnalia” (meaning plenty):

“Life was hard in the severe northern climate. Plans had to be laid carefully at the onset of the long winter to make certain that there would be enough food to last until spring. If herds were large, they had to be thinned, because they would eat too much precious stored food. Stock-slaughtering and meat-curing time offered an opportunity to invite neighbors in for a feast, to thank the gods for the past year, and to pray for another revolution of the wheel of the seasons.

The menace of the cruelly cold, long nights as well as that of the giants who might rush from the bowels of the earth at any moment and overwhelm the people demanded strong protective measures. In addition to the aid of the gods, the northmen relied heavily on magic symbols and charms. Even more than the Romans, they depended upon evergreens to shield them against their enemies. Holly, pine, bay, spruce, laurel, ivy, fir- the aid of every conceivable bush and tree of lasting green was invoked. Celtic priests, the Druids, attributed miraculous healing powers to mistletoe and included it in their sacred rituals. The light and heat of fire was also considered helpful magic. Bonfires of large logs burned during the new year observance were the forebears of the Yule log of today.”

Fast forward, same article, we get more details about Santa Clause/Woden:

“While the festival of Christmas was being developed by the church at Rome, a priest named Nicholas was serving churches in Asia Minor. As a young man, he was consecrated Archbishop of Myra, an important seacoast town. Not much is known of his life, but he was greatly venerated throughout the land and exerted a strong influence on the entire Byzantine branch of Christendom. Soon after his death on December 6, 326, he became known as Saint Nicholas. Officially, he was made patron saint of the Russian Orthodox Church, and unofficially, of all seamen, travelers, and children.

Many legends grew up about Saint Nicholas’ generosity and unselfishness. He was particularly the benefactor of poor and humble people. His many gifts were always given secretly, in the dead of night, so that the recipients would never know who gave them.

When the tribes of the north were converted to ‘Christianity’ (Romans Catholicism, which is not Christianity but a continuation of the mystery religions at Babylon), legends of Nicholas mingled with those of Woden, the Teutonic god. The resulting figure became the Saint Nicholas who rides a white horse through central and northern Europe on December 6th and quizzes children to see if they have behaved properly during the past year. Eventually the same personality crossed the Atlantic to become the American Santa Claus.”

Continuing on our journey, I include this portion from a “Christmas Unwrapped” article from the History Channel, which explains how this Saint Nick came to go down the chimney, among other areas of interest:

“On December 6th, Saint Nicholas Day, good children woke to gifts from the kindly saint. Bad children sulked away with nothing. ..This quaint custom caught the imagination of Clement Clarke Moore, a well-healed Episcopal minister in New York City. In 1822, Moore wrote a poem for his children about a good natured saint who came down through the chimney on Christmas Eve. “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;” Moore dreamed up Dasher, Dancer, and the rest of the reindeer along with Santa’s entrance through the chimney. But, at first he was embarrassed by the poem. He worried it was too frivolous for a man of the church.” Clement Moore was minister who should be on the other side, the side of the Puritans who were rabidly anti-Christmas, but here he was promoting it, though he lamented only that he was promoting a secular Christmas, rather than what Rome had developed. In fact, at first, he kept his authorship a secret. “Moore soon owned up to the poem when it became clear that every child in America was scanning the horizon for reindeer on Christmas Eve.”

The beloved Rudolph was nothing more than a fanciful way for merchandisers to make money off of gullible parents:

“In 1939, Robert May a copywriter at the Montgomery Ward department store dashed off a promotional children’s book to lure Christmas shoppers into the store. “This physical, shall I say disability, turns out to be an asset because it’s a foggy Christmas Eve and this light on the nose enables poor old stumbling Santa Clause to get through. So you have this handicap, sort of child figure, helping the benighted parental figure make Christmas possible.” (Alan Dunded) Rudolph brought Christmas full circle. It was now the children who really made Christmas possible. Only they understood the meaning of this enchanted day. From Washington Irving to Montgomery Ward a battle for Christmas had been fought and won by kids.”

We go on to find out the very look of Santa was dreamed up by an 1863 cartoonist for Harper’s Weekly, Thomas Nast:

“Nast’s Santa was rounder and jollier than his austere Catholic cousin. He looked, in fact, like a man of his times, a man who would fit right in with the rotund bewhiskered robber barons of the late nineteenth century. But Santa was a robber baron in reverse. “Instead of taking from the less fortunate, he gave to the less fortunate. He gave to people regardless of whether they’d done something or not, in other words, he gave to children. Instead of gathering together wealth, he gets rid of wealth and he does it yearly. (Penne L. Restad)

“So Santa Clause played a very important role for both parents and children. He took presents out of the realm of commerce. If the image of Santa could sell merchandise, retailers soon figured out that a real life Santa would boast sales even further. Santa has been showing up at department stores since the mid-1800’s and since then, nothing has loomed larger to a child at Christmas than this annual pilgrimage.”

“You want to talk to Santa Clause, where do you go? You go to the shopping mall. Now this is strange for a saint to be living pretty much full time in a department store. It doesn’t bother Americans, because we are after all a capitalistic society. It makes perfect sense for us to have our national saint in a department store. That’s commercial sense for us. Dollars and sense.” (Alan Dundes)

So, that, ladies and gents, is where our long-adored (worshiped) Santa Clause comes from. As with everything: right out of worship of the sun god. Some cultures called him Baal, some Zeus, some Jupiter, some Hercules. Christians, on the contrary, as with all feasts and traditions of the heathens, should have no part.

Now, rush along—-don’t your children have a lap to sit in?

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Posted on December 24th 2015 in Uncategorized

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