Father Nicholas: The REAL Santa Claus

When I was young and growing up in Ohio, some of my classmates would leave their shoes outside the bedroom door on the night of the fifth of December, so that Saint Nicholas would leave them treats for the next morning.

We never did that at our house, but I did ask Mom how it was that Saint Nicholas got to be called "Santa Claus." By this time I had already determined a connection between the two. But while my mother was salutatorian of her high school class -- one of a grand total of fifteen students, but I digress -- she was not one to wear her erudition on her sleeve. So, rather than go into an entymological treatise on the subject, she simply told me: “Say ‘Saint Nicholas’ three times real fast.”

That carried me over for at least a few years.

No good Catholic home is without an answer to the question of whether there is such a thing as Santa Claus. There is, but we are accustomed to the corruption of his real name, one that developed over the centuries. By the time devotion to Saint Nicholas reached Europe, he was known by different names. In the British Isles, he was "Father Christmas." In the Netherlands, he was "Sinterklaas." By the 19th century, periodicals such as Harper's Bazaar, and promoters of a fountain beverage known as Coca-Cola, had not only transformed the name, but the bright red costume with the white-fur trim, both of which we recognize today.

Whatever people call him, or however they depict him, the Bishop of Myra in the fourth century is a real person, and he presently dwells in Heaven with the Communion of Saints. Our Mother the Church celebrates his feast on the sixth of December, in both the East and the West.

VIDEO: A variation on a theme.

Nicholas was no lightweight. He was in attendance at the Council of Nicaea in the year 325, when the Arian heresy was being debated. At one point, he became so enraged with the Bishop Arius (whose errors were supported by the majority of bishops up to that time, remember?), that he supposedly punched Arius in the nose.

That's right, kids, Jolly Olde Saint Nick cold-cocked a heretic! (Some accounts say that he merely slapped Aruis, but that's so pantywaist, who'd believe it?)

Anyway, many of the bishops there, including the Emperor Constantine, were outraged by the assault, and given their sympathies, had Nicholas thrown in the dungeon. That night, the Emperor had a dream where Nicholas appeared to him, adorned in his finest liturgical vesture, and holding the Book of the Gospels. Awakened with a fright, the Emperor summoned his guards, who joined him as he raced to the dungeon, to find Nicholas unchained, adorned in ... you guessed it.

The story varies in certain details. Some accounts tell of Our Lord and Our Lady appearing to Nicholas in the dungeon. I heard the one above from an "Old Calendar" Russian Orthodox priest. It is also said that Nicholas, being restored to his rightful place in the council, slept through the rest of the proceedings.

I can't say I blame him.

Michael Foley provides more details about the life and legacy of Nicholas.

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At the little Greek Catholic parish where my son learned the Faith, as it had been taught to his mother, the Feast of Saint Nicholas is a particular cause for celebration. He is the patron of Greek Catholics, and his image graces the iconostasis on the far left side as viewed from the assembly. There is a special hymn dedicated to him ...

O kto kto, Nikolaja l'ubit,
O kto kto, Nikolaju sluzit.
    Tomu svjatyj Nikolaj,
    Na vsjakij cas pomahaj.
    Nikolaj, Nikolaj!

O who loves Nicholas the Saintly,
O who loves Nicholas the Saintly.
    Him will Nicholas receive,
    and give help in time of need.
    Nicholas, Nicholas!

... and the children in the School of Religion program do a pageant in his honor every Sunday closest to the sixth of December. It culminates in the arrival of an elderly man with a long white beard, dressed in the robes of a Greek Catholic bishop, with whom the children meet in much the same manner as they would his commercialized (and most inauthentic) counterpart.

Paul used to get special icon cookies to take home, much like the ones that appear in the photos, emblazoned with the words "O Holy Nicholas" in Slavonic. These unique gingerbread cookies are from a recipe which appears at the stnicholascenter.org website.

I dearly miss that little parish. It has changed over the last four decades. In 2012, they completed a new and larger house of worship, one that emulates the style common to Eastern Europe. But with every successful building project they have -- the parish hall, the rectory -- the place seems a little less homey, a little larger than life. Still, the spirit of Saint Nicholas reminds them every year, of the things that are passed on, and that remain the same.

And for those parishes of the Roman Rite, whose priests would hold off any celebration of Christmas until the day itself, and the days thereafter when everyone is out of town, they too might have at least one reason to reconsider, as Advent is not only a season of penitence, but of expectation. (This venue will provide other reasons soon, so stay tuned.)

And on that note, let's go bake some cookies already!