Sunday, December 7, 2008

Celebrating Jolly Ole Saint Nick



Before there was a "Night Before Christmas" or paintings by Courier and Ives, there was Nicholas, a humble Christian man from Modern Day Turkey. Yesterday, Dec. 6, was the Feast Day of Nicholas, known in the modern day as St. Nick, but his true legend has been long lost through the centuries. You see, this man we Americans call "Santa Claus" did not want the praise we have heaped upon him. No, jolly ole St. Nick was actually a young pastor who lived in the AD 300s and did his works of mercy under the cover of secrecy and night. Here's a column I wrote a number of years ago for my newspaper after researching the legends of Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, that I hope shows you why I consider St. Nicholas to be my "patron saint" (if I'm allowed to have one!).

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December 22, 2002
The Grapevine Sun

Christmas all started with a small sack of gold.
No, really – a small sack of gold.

But before you brand this theologian a heretic, please allow me to explain.
The true “Christmas” happened when God came down to become man, being born one cool winter’s night over 2,000 years ago.

But the “Christmas” I am referring to is the secular one, which actually also has religious roots.
The sack of gold coins was either thrown through the window, or dropped down the chimney, of the home of a destitute family in Myra, Turkey, around the year 300. The culprit was a mystery.
The family was in a desperate situation. A father, a nobleman with three daughters, found his financial situation growing worse by the day. His business had failed and he and his daughters had little to live on.

And when his oldest daughter announced that she wanted to get married, the father’s heart sank because he had no money for the customary bridal dowry. One of her younger sisters than announced that she would sell herself into slavery to provide the money, but, of course, no one in town wanted to see that happen.

News of the predicament came to a concerned gentleman one day and he decided to do something about it.

Long into the night, the father heard a “thud” out in his living room. Groggy as any person would be early in the early morning hours, he looked in the room to see a small sack lying on the floor.
Upon further investigation, he found gold inside and started to panic. Who threw this in his house? And whose gold is this?

He quickly ran to the door and threw it open, looking outside for the culprit. But there was no one there. And as any one of us would do, he started rejoicing and kept the money, paying off his debts and affording his oldest daughter a nice dowry.

About a year later, his second daughter announced that she wanted to be married. But the gold was long gone and the poor father was once again broke.

He awoke one morning to find another sack of gold lying on his living room floor. The stranger had struck again! There was no note with the gold, and no one in town knew who might have done such a selfless deed.

The identity of the gold giver was safely anonymous, which was to his preference.
Some time later the youngest daughter announced her marriage wishes to her poor father, and the father suspected that another gift would soon be coming. So he set up a string-and-bells perimeter alarm to let him know if the kind stranger returned.

Late one night, the father awoke to the sound of the bells. He rushed into his living room to see another sack on the floor, and then dashed to the door to see if he could catch the benevolent bandit as he left the scene.

The father looked outside and saw a man hurrying away from the house. He ran after him and finally caught up to the man, recognizing a familiar face.

The gift-giver was Nicholas, the young archbishop of the church in Myra.
“Why did you give us the gold?” the father asked.
“Because you needed it,” Nicholas answered.
“But why didn’t you let us know who you were?” the father asked again.
“Because it’s good to give and have only God know about it,” came the reply.

Even though Nicholas begged the father not to tell anyone about his good deeds, the father couldn’t keep silent and told as many people in the town as possible. Pretty soon, Bishop Nicholas became associated with many other anonymous acts of kindness that had gone on in the town over the previous few years.

He did it all without expecting something in return. He did it out of obedience, for his Lord Jesus had said 270 years earlier, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

As the leader of the local church, he felt responsible for meeting the needs of his church members, and dedicated his wealth to doing so. According to some reports, he would at times disguise himself and secretly visit the homes of the most needy under the cloak of darkness. He delivered food, clothing and money.

And the recipients had no idea where the blessings came from. They just knew that the Lord had answered their prayers and met their needs.

After a lifetime of service, Nicholas died on Dec. 6, 342.

But his charitable ways did not end then. His way of anonymous giving was carried on by the local townsfolk, who did it all in the name of Saint Nicholas.

Eventually, the late bishop’s legend spread across Europe. Saint Nicholas became “Saint Nicklaus” in Holland and then “Sinter Klaus” in Germany. In America, it was changed once again to “Santa Claus.”

And the tradition of giving anonymous gifts has continued with the name. As this tradition continues Wednesday morning, and many of you participate in the exchanging of gifts, remember Saint Nicholas, who gave without return and found the highest joy in doing so.

Let that be your Christmas goal – to not let the gifts you receive rule your holiday attitude. Enjoy the blessings of giving.

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