For decades people have debated whether Christmas is primarily about Santa Claus or Baby Jesus.
Since our contemporary society is steeped in secularism and commerce, Santa seems to occupy center stage while Baby Jesus is somewhat ushered toward stage left.
Which, of course, is missing the whole point.
Christmas celebrates the birth of Christ. That’s why they call it Christmas, not Santamas.
But I say there is no need for a tug of war between the two. Baby Jesus and Santa Claus should ride in tandem. A classic pairing just like Batman and Robin, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Starsky and Hutch, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Riggs and Murtaugh.
After all, when Baby Jesus grew up, he set the template by telling the Jews to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.
So why can’t we render unto Baby Jesus the things that are his and to Santa Claus the things that are his?
The two have been linked together since the first Christmas. The Magi, also known as the Three Wise Men even though IQ tests were yet to be invented, gave Baby Jesus the first Christmas gifts — gold, frankincense and myrrh.
It says here that the Three Wise Men actually were tall elves dispatched by Santa Claus to deliver the gifts to Baby Jesus because Santa’s reindeer didn’t learn to fly until years later when they got lessons from the Wright brothers.
It also says here that Santa could have picked gifts more appropriate for an infant. Gold, of course, is always nice. But frankincense and myrrh hardly measure up to a rattle or a rubber ducky.
Thank God in ensuing years Santa began having informal meets-and-greets with kids in department stores to get feedback on what toys they desired.
Every year of the 1950s I asked Santa for army men, which were plastic toy soldiers made primarily in the green of U.S. Army soldiers from the World War II era. By the time I was 10 I had a regiment of roughly 4,763 soldiers and was pondering liberating Cuba from Castro. Alas, I lost interest in army men by age 11 and left Cuba to John F. Kennedy, who botched the 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion. But I digress.
My 1950s childhood experience taught me how seamlessly Baby Jesus and Santa Claus interface. Visit Santa at the store or wherever, ask for a boatload of gifts that he’ll have to suck in his amply belly to descend the chimney with, and say a prayer to Baby Jesus on every night of Advent.
After all, it’s not just Santa who’s watching to see if we’re naughty or nice. Jesus is watching us as well and he has triune vision with God the Father and the Holy Spirit also having an eye on us.
Granted, being under such scrutiny can give kids an Orwellian Big Brother complex, but all ends well if they go to church on Christmas morning and worship Baby Jesus after tearing like crazed raccoons through all the wrapping on their Christmas presents that Santa Claus herniated a disc or two toting to their homes.
Mike Zielinski, a resident of Berks County, is a columnist, novelist, playwright and screenwriter.
Source: Berkshire mont
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