Here we are: the night before Christmas. In some places it is Christmas already. And it's not too late for some people -- who, if we grill them, have a theologically-robust view of the incarnation -- who want to suck the common joy out of the thing, and give up the kind of thing celebrating Christmas ought to be.
I am, of course, like a dog to his vomit, returning to the topic of Santa.
From a purely-didactic standpoint, someone this week told me that practicing Santa at your house is teaching your children to lie. Now, if you as a family read fiction, or play legos, or watch movies and discuss them with enjoyment, the accusation sounds a little lacking in human scope. Not one of those things are teaching anyone to lie even though there are no muggles and no Aslan, legos are merely plastic, and the Avengers never did save Manhattan by destroying it. But those things are, somehow, teaching our children something. Play is a form of education. If we accept that in any way, then I think a seasonal tradition in which children first learn to be good receivers of gifts, then good givers of gifts who explicitly do no want any credit for being generous seems to me to be, at least, good play and not a subversion of truth as the bedrock of beauty and holiness.
From a purely-emotional standpoint, the Santa tradition is, frankly, a wonderful drama. Look: what's the point of drama? You could be lazy and say that it's a kind of play -- just saying what I already said over again in the hopes that I'll just shut up and move on. But drama has another purpose: it works to demonstrate truth through an object lesson which creates emotional resonance. The tradition of Santa creates exactly this -- but not on a stage: in your home, a place where the emotions are more like mortar than they are like cotton candy. It creates a safe place to tell a story with a lot of depth and breadth which is utterly resonant with the Biblical story even we have prepared to celebrate in concurrence. It creates a sense of urgent waiting. It creates a sense of the benevolent unknown -- a sense that we can and should trust someone or something we cannot see immediately. It creates a sense of release and satisfaction when the expectations have been fulfilled. It creates a sense of joy.
From a purely-evangelistic standpoint, let's think about this: the whole world that you will encounter in the Christmas season knows the broad strokes of the Santa tradition. Every person you meet will know about Santa. In their minds, it's a treat -- not merely harmless or flavorless, but in fact a common cause for adults to enjoy giving gifts and demonstrating good will toward others. When they bring it up to you, and your response is that they are simply practicing a lie, and indoctrinating children with falsehoods, and so on, what exactly do you think they are receiving from you -- the truth? Let's say for the sake of argument that what you tell them is the unmitigated and unfiltered true truth, and that all my other arguments are just fiddle-faddle: when you tell these people that giving gifts without any real intent to get credit for it for the only purpose that it will give some happiness and joy to another person, does that sound like a prelude to the Gospel to you? Are they warmed up to hear much greater truth from you now that you have made such a bold stand for a some much more smaller truth?
Look: if you don't want to celebrate this tradition because it's too materialistic, or too garish, or too childish, or too much trouble, or too expensive, I credit you for being honest with yourself about it, and I grant you your own liberty to be as you see fit. But: if you want to condemn the tradition as a lie, and therefore call those of us who are doing it liars and indoctrinators of liars, and you hate our fun as sin, and see our homes as places where children are being harmed both in faith and in morals, I draw the line. I object. Not only do I object: I demand that you reconsider. Your view is too small, and your condemnation of me and mine is (at best) unwarranted or (at worst) a liable.
Reconsider it. Retract it. Show a little bit of the love Christ showed (by being born in a barn and sleeping in a feeding trough) to other human beings by being humble first rather than allegedly-glorious -- if you are really concerned with God's grace, and God's truth.
And with that, I am off-line for the rest of the year. See you in 2013.
I am, of course, like a dog to his vomit, returning to the topic of Santa.
From a purely-didactic standpoint, someone this week told me that practicing Santa at your house is teaching your children to lie. Now, if you as a family read fiction, or play legos, or watch movies and discuss them with enjoyment, the accusation sounds a little lacking in human scope. Not one of those things are teaching anyone to lie even though there are no muggles and no Aslan, legos are merely plastic, and the Avengers never did save Manhattan by destroying it. But those things are, somehow, teaching our children something. Play is a form of education. If we accept that in any way, then I think a seasonal tradition in which children first learn to be good receivers of gifts, then good givers of gifts who explicitly do no want any credit for being generous seems to me to be, at least, good play and not a subversion of truth as the bedrock of beauty and holiness.
From a purely-emotional standpoint, the Santa tradition is, frankly, a wonderful drama. Look: what's the point of drama? You could be lazy and say that it's a kind of play -- just saying what I already said over again in the hopes that I'll just shut up and move on. But drama has another purpose: it works to demonstrate truth through an object lesson which creates emotional resonance. The tradition of Santa creates exactly this -- but not on a stage: in your home, a place where the emotions are more like mortar than they are like cotton candy. It creates a safe place to tell a story with a lot of depth and breadth which is utterly resonant with the Biblical story even we have prepared to celebrate in concurrence. It creates a sense of urgent waiting. It creates a sense of the benevolent unknown -- a sense that we can and should trust someone or something we cannot see immediately. It creates a sense of release and satisfaction when the expectations have been fulfilled. It creates a sense of joy.
From a purely-evangelistic standpoint, let's think about this: the whole world that you will encounter in the Christmas season knows the broad strokes of the Santa tradition. Every person you meet will know about Santa. In their minds, it's a treat -- not merely harmless or flavorless, but in fact a common cause for adults to enjoy giving gifts and demonstrating good will toward others. When they bring it up to you, and your response is that they are simply practicing a lie, and indoctrinating children with falsehoods, and so on, what exactly do you think they are receiving from you -- the truth? Let's say for the sake of argument that what you tell them is the unmitigated and unfiltered true truth, and that all my other arguments are just fiddle-faddle: when you tell these people that giving gifts without any real intent to get credit for it for the only purpose that it will give some happiness and joy to another person, does that sound like a prelude to the Gospel to you? Are they warmed up to hear much greater truth from you now that you have made such a bold stand for a some much more smaller truth?
Look: if you don't want to celebrate this tradition because it's too materialistic, or too garish, or too childish, or too much trouble, or too expensive, I credit you for being honest with yourself about it, and I grant you your own liberty to be as you see fit. But: if you want to condemn the tradition as a lie, and therefore call those of us who are doing it liars and indoctrinators of liars, and you hate our fun as sin, and see our homes as places where children are being harmed both in faith and in morals, I draw the line. I object. Not only do I object: I demand that you reconsider. Your view is too small, and your condemnation of me and mine is (at best) unwarranted or (at worst) a liable.
Reconsider it. Retract it. Show a little bit of the love Christ showed (by being born in a barn and sleeping in a feeding trough) to other human beings by being humble first rather than allegedly-glorious -- if you are really concerned with God's grace, and God's truth.
And with that, I am off-line for the rest of the year. See you in 2013.
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4 comments:
Every year I learn to trust you again - sometime around May. Then you post this, and it's so wrong - so thoroughly, so obviously, and so perniciously wrong - that I question everything. Now I'm going to have to read Frank Turk with a grain of salt again for a few months.
Well done sir I enjoy your Christmas messages whether here or at the pyromaniacs. God bless you.
It's a shame, Tom, that you are that kind of Puritan.
Proverbs 22:15 Kids will believe just about anything you tell them. I a fan of fantasy like most but I can never bring myself to try and convince a little of something that I know I do not believe. Do not vet me wrong Santa might be as real as Jesus there are so many similarities it is uncanny but for me the evidence for the latter is far more compelling. I have room for only one invisible friend and He is the only one I share with little ones come Christmas time. I keep my mouth shut about the other one and try to turn a blind eye to the parents winking behind the backs of their little fools :)
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