Rev. Dr. Joel D. Biermann
Luke 2:11
Dec. 24, 2016
I have nothing against Santa Claus. No, really, I’m not anti-St. Nick, and I’m not one of those alarmed that Santa is highjacking the real reason for Christmas. He’s certainly become part of the way that people in the western world celebrate Christmas, and I’m fine with that. Santa does not pose a threat to me and I am not interested in any sort of pious campaign to shoulder him out of the season. A few token Santa’s are even among the decorations that Jeannalee uses to make our home so festive this time of year. And a very long time ago—when I was a senior in high school—my physics teacher recruited me to don his Santa suit and I actually came ho-ho-hoeing into his home on Christmas Eve to pass out the gifts to his wide-eyed and obviously overly credulous children. In retrospect, I’m not sure that was such a good idea—if nothing else, I probably need to confess the deception involved. Fortunately, there were no photos taken. So, as I was saying—I’ve got nothing against Santa Claus…just as long as he keeps in his place, of course. Or more accurately, just so long as we keep him in his place, and remember the distinction between Santa and the actual founder and focus of the celebration. But, of course that’s not always the case. We know that there are times when the distinction between Jesus and Santa is not as sharp or precise as it should be.
That was the particular problem of one father who was carefully raising his children to know the story of Jesus and to celebrate God’s gift of his Son as the center of Christmas. Despite his efforts, however, this man’s two-year-old son somehow had become convinced that Santa was Jesus. Whenever the toddler saw a picture or figure of Santa Claus, he would point and say, “Jesus”. It was a little embarrassing when it happened in public. And then came the day when the boy finally came face-to-face with a living, breathing, talking version of Santa complete with children on his lap and elf-photographers recording the moment for posterity. The family was merely passing through the mall’s center court, but the boy was thrilled when he spotted the man on the throne. “Jesus!” he shouted from his stroller, “That’s Jesus!” The father could neither deny nor hide the truth any longer: he had heard his son’s ardent declaration—so had several dozen-holiday shoppers. It was time for direct intervention. The misunderstanding needed to be cleared up. Still, the father was sympathetic and could well understand the confusion. His son had been taught that Christmas was all about Jesus. So, when the boy saw the kind man with the beard at the center of all the Christmas attention, what else was he supposed to think? Nevertheless, the embarrassment factor had pushed the father to the brink. The father knelt down next to the stroller, and with infinite patience and just a touch of fatherly correction told his son, “No, that’s not Jesus. That’s one of his helpers named Santa Claus.” At this, the boy looked his father straight in the eye and with precise emphasis declared, “No! Jesus,” and to make sure that he was not misunderstood, he used the flat of his palm to bop his dad on the nose just as he said, “Jesus.” His faith would not be shaken. You’ll be happy to know that all turned out well, and my son Jess, now twenty-one years after that Christmas, is quite clear on the identity of both Santa and Jesus.
Of course, there are worse things than thinking that Santa Claus is Jesus. Actually, thinking that Santa is Jesus, is not that big a deal. Getting it the other way around, though, is a very serious problem. And that problem is, I believe, all too common, and not just at Christmas time. Obviously, the confusion is not so crass as people pointing at a picture of Jesus and saying, “Santa Claus!” or beginning a prayer with, “Dear Santa.” Most people leave that sort of confusion in the nursery. The confusion at work today is evident when people begin to believe and even propagate errant ideas about Jesus that essentially turn Jesus into Santa Claus. These ideas abound and take on many forms.
The most obvious way to turn Jesus into Santa Claus is to see Jesus as the great gift-giver. But, of course, what is sought is not stuff, but blessings, which sounds so very pious. Just ask for what you need, or more accurately what you desire, ask for it with real faith and sincerity, and Jesus, the gift-giver will deliver it. This is the Santa-Jesus of many popular preachers and authors who offer tricks, shortcuts, and prayers designed to give you the inside track on God’s favor and blessings. Do this, pray that, meditate on x or y, and God will certainly shower you with material wealth and goods. Jesus is the ticket to the good stuff. This rather crude misunderstanding of Jesus and his identity reduces Jesus to little more than a super-Santa who fulfills the wishes of good girls and boys. People who believe in this kind of Jesus may as well believe in Santa Claus. There’s no difference.
A second way of turning Jesus into a kind of Santa Claus is a bit more sophisticated than the “give me stuff” mentality of the first group. There are those who see Jesus as the source of love and good feelings; and the one who spreads warmth and sunshine wherever he goes—much the way that Santa leaves feelings of encouragement and hope in the wake of his sleigh. These are the people who will gush about how much they love “this time of the year”, and how much they appreciate the “spirit of kindness and generosity” that seem to become more palpable during the days of December. The people with this Santa Jesus believe ardently in his miracles and promises. But they believe these things only because believing gives them comfort and encouragement. Jesus makes them feel good. They like the way that Jesus affects their mood, and the way that he helps them deal with life. The problem is that Jesus ends up being just a tool for coping. He’s no different than the Santa who saved the day in the “Miracle on 34th Street”. This Jesus fixes relationships by inspiring noble action, and elevating the spiritual morale of people. He’s good therapy. He makes life better—the way that St. Nick makes life better. Jesus is simply Santa Claus.
Yet another way that people reduce the reality of Jesus to something like Santa Claus, is the way that Jesus becomes a rallying point and a catalyst for human brotherhood and global peace. People with this version of Jesus love that he was a “man of peace”; they try to follow his example of non-violence, tolerance, and acceptance. For them, Jesus exemplifies the command to love selflessly, and to love everyone equally and unconditionally. What Jesus actually said and did is ignored; what matters is a message of universal love. And that’s the problem. These people, and this includes some in the church, assume that Jesus stands for “love, love, love.” It is a short step to a Jesus who endorses a “live and let live” attitude that affirms any and all attitudes, lifestyles, and behavior. This Jesus teaches us that the most important thing is that we all learn to get along. This Jesus knows how to love and accept everyone just the way that they are—the same way that Santa knows how to love everyone without a bunch of rules and without judgment. This is a popular way to think of Jesus; but this Jesus is nothing more than another Santa Jesus.
Of course, it’s true that Jesus gives gifts to his people, and it’s true that Jesus brings encouragement and strength for living, and it’s true that Jesus heals relationships and teaches the way of peace. But, Jesus is so much more than any of these things. And when these ways of thinking of Jesus are where you stop, then you don’t have the real Jesus. You’ve been duped into believing in a Santa Jesus. Be careful that the Jesus you love and worship is the real Jesus—the one who lived in this world, and who is revealed in the biblical record. Don’t believe in a trivial Santa Jesus. If your Jesus is nothing more than a glorified Santa figure, then what have you got? Your faith is deficient, your Christmas is trivial, and your celebration is superficial. You’re only believing in the feel-good, shallow spirituality so popular, today.
Christmas is more than a promise of blessings to be received, a therapeutic pick-me-up for dark days, or inspiration for a utopian brotherhood of man and world peace. These things are not enough! Christmas is more. Christmas is God doing the incomprehensible. It’s God doing what no man could expect. It’s God doing what no man could do. Christmas is God working to restore people to a right relationship not only with one another, but much more importantly, with himself. Jesus does not come to dole out blessings, or to make life meaningful and happy, or to pave the way for greater understanding, tolerance, and acceptance among people. He comes to do much more. He comes to make people whole again. He comes to put people back into a right relationship with God. He comes to save you from the curse of your own sin. God can make you whole again. God can make you new again. God can even heal consequences and put everything back together. God can undo sin. On the first Christmas that is exactly what God was doing.
The wonder, the marvel, the miracle, of Christmas is God working to make his creation perfect. It is God stepping into a shattered world and making it right. It is God intervening to save you from the mess you have made by your own brokenness and sin. Christmas is all about God doing all of this in the baby of Bethlehem. It is all about Jesus—not Santa Jesus, but Savior Jesus. Jesus, the baby, the man, the center of the Bible’s story is God working to save. And this baby, this man, this Jesus, is not only the Savior, he’s God himself—he’s Immanuel, God with us. God right there in the baby, God kicking in the straw—God in his mother’s arms—God looking back at the shepherds. That’s the point of Christmas. God in human flesh and blood, came to save. It was not easy. For thirty years, he lived a human life, facing real struggles, real pain, real heartbreak, real challenges. For thirty years, he lived the way that God always intended his people to live: in perfect obedience to his will. Jesus did that. And then he gave himself as the one perfect sacrifice for the sins of all failed human beings for all time. Jesus willingly took their failure…your failure, your shortcomings, your mistakes, your rebellion, your lusts, your violence, your wickedness—your sin, and he made it his own. He claimed it, and carried it. He carried your load of shame and sin to the cross, and there, God’s wrath against that sin thundered down and crashed full on Jesus. Jesus paid the price. Jesus endured the wrath and damnation. That’s what Christmas is all about. It’s about the Savior’s birth. It’s about the incredible thing the Savior did to make you whole and right. He did it. For you, he did it. The real Jesus is so much more than any superficial Santa Jesus.
Jesus is the savior. He’s not what people project on to him. He’s not a Santa Jesus who will answer every wish and whim and make life a little happier. He’s a savior sent to save you from eternal damnation, sent to put you into right relationships with your Creator and with the rest of creation. That’s why he was born. In Bethlehem, in the manger, in the straw, was the Savior. Snug in swaddling cloths, wrapped tightly in those strips of cloth, the Savior slept. We don’t know what color those strips of cloth might have been. We’re not told. And we’re never told what color he wore when he worked in the carpenter’s shop for almost thirty years, or what color he wore when he preached and healed during the years of his ministry. But, when he carried our sin to the cross, we do know the color he wore. We’re told. Matthew thought it important enough to write it down. As he stood before Pilate, Jesus wore the color of a soldier’s robe. And when he was stripped of his own clothing and stretched and nailed to the wood of the cross, we know the color that stained his skin. The color of the robe, the color of the blood, was the same: bright, vivid, life-giving red. The one who wore the red robe, the one whose blood ran down in bright red streams, is the Savior Jesus. You see, Christmas is all about the man in red. But, the man in red is not Santa; it’s Jesus. Twenty-one years ago, my two-and-a-half-year-old son was right. It is Jesus. He is Immanuel, God with us. Jesus is God doing the impossible: saving you—separating you from your own sin, removing it, taking it away, destroying it forever. Look in the manger. Look closely. The baby lying there is Jesus. He’s the man in red. He’s not Jesus the gift-giver, Jesus the encourager, or Jesus the peacemaker. He’s Jesus—your Savior…your salvation. Amen.