When I think back to my childhood, the magic of Christmas wasn’t just in the twinkling lights, the smell of cookies baking, or the thrill of presents under the tree. No, the true enchantment came from the lengths my Mama, Papa, and Nana went to keep the spirit of Santa Claus alive. To them, Santa wasn’t just a jolly guy in a red suit but a living, breathing symbol of generosity, kindness, and unbridled joy.

I still remember one Christmas Eve when I was about eight years old. I decided to test my theory that Santa was more myth than man. Armed with curiosity, I crept out of bed and tiptoed toward the living room. There, bathed in the glow of the Christmas tree, was Nana, coming back from the placement of gifts under the branches. My young heart skipped a beat. Was Santa a sham? The thought was almost too much to bear.

But Nana, bless her quick thinking and mischievous grin, didn’t miss a beat. With a twinkle in her eye, she shooed me back to bed and whispered, “Santa just left. I was up talking to him because we’re old friends. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect before he headed to the next house.” That was all it took. The magic was preserved, and I drifted back to sleep, comforted by the image of Nana and Santa sharing a laugh over milk and cookies.

As I grew older, the thrill of receiving presents evolved into a deeper joy—the joy of giving. I began to understand that Santa wasn’t just about toys or stockings; he was about embodying a spirit of selfless generosity. Today, I even don the red suit myself during the Christmas season. Playing Santa has become one of my favorite traditions. There’s nothing quite like seeing a child’s face light up as they share their wishes or watching a parent’s eyes glisten with nostalgia. It’s a privilege that I treasure deeply. And yes that is me in the photo.

Not everyone, however, shares my enthusiasm for Santa Claus. I learned this the hard way during my first Christmas dating my wife. My future mother-in-law, with a mix of concern and conviction, informed me that Santa was an “enemy of Christ.”

“Santa?” I asked, baffled. “The jolly guy who brings toys?”

She proceeded to explain her reasoning: Santa lurks in fireplaces like the smoke of hell, his name rearranged spells “Satan,” and his jolly persona distracts people from the true meaning of Christmas. At first, I thought this was a one-off perspective, but as the years went by, I encountered others who shared similar sentiments. To some, Santa Claus is seen as a rival to Jesus, a symbol of commercialism, or even a pagan imposter.

This couldn’t be further from the truth. To understand the real Santa Claus, we need to travel back to the 4th century and meet St. Nicholas of Myra. This Christian bishop, known for his unwavering faith and profound generosity, lived in what is now modern-day Turkey. St. Nicholas was a fierce defender of Christian orthodoxy, particularly during a time of great theological upheaval. The Arian heresy, which denied the full divinity of Jesus, was gaining traction, and Nicholas wasn’t having it. Legend has it that during the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, he was so incensed by Arius’s arguments that he punched him in the teeth, (insert the POW words in the air like 60’s Batman show) then picked him up tossed him out of the meeting in to the cold street in the mud and turned and looked at the rest of the group and asked if anyone else agreed with him. While this act might not make the modern WWJD playbook, it underscores Nicholas’s passionate commitment to protecting the truth of Christ.

But St. Nicholas wasn’t just a theological heavyweight; he was also a man of action. Stories abound of his secret acts of kindness, the most famous being his gifts to a poor man’s three daughters. Unable to afford dowries, the girls faced the grim prospect of lives in servitude. Nicholas, moved by their plight, secretly delivered bags of gold to their home, ensuring their futures were secure. This legacy of selfless giving became the foundation for the Santa Claus tradition we know today.

St. Nicholas’s anonymous generosity perfectly reflects Jesus’s teaching in Matthew 6:3-4:

“But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

Nicholas’s actions remind us that true hospitality and generosity aren’t about seeking applause but about serving others with a pure heart. This spirit of giving lies at the heart of both the Christmas season and the Christian faith.

Why the Hatred for Santa? So, why do some Christians bristle at the mention of Santa Claus? Here are a few common arguments and why they miss the point: “Santa Distracts from Jesus” It’s true that Christmas can sometimes become overly commercialized. But that’s not Santa’s fault. When presented as a symbol of generosity and kindness, Santa can actually point us back to Jesus, whose birth we celebrate during this season. St. Nicholas’s story is one of Christlike love—giving sacrificially to bless others. Far from being a distraction, Santa’s example invites us to embody the same generosity and hospitality that Jesus teaches. “Santa Has Pagan Origins?” While it’s true that many cultural symbols have complex histories, the core of Santa Claus is deeply rooted in Christianity. St. Nicholas’s life and legacy have inspired countless acts of kindness and hospitality over the centuries. Rather than focusing on any perceived pagan connections, we should celebrate the ways his story reflects the love and generosity of Christ.

 Beyond Santa Claus, many Christmas traditions carry profound spiritual significance. Let’s explore a few:

The Christmas Tree: A Sign of Eternal Life

The evergreen tree, which remains lush throughout the year, symbolizes eternal life in Christ. Jeremiah 17:7-8 says: “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.” Martin Luther is credited with popularizing the tradition of decorating trees with lights to reflect the light of Christ.

Gift-Giving: A Reflection of God’s Generosity

The tradition of giving gifts mirrors the gifts of the Magi (Matthew 2:11) and God’s ultimate gift of His Son (John 3:16). Far from being about materialism, gift-giving reminds us of God’s boundless generosity and inspires us to share with others.

Christmas Lights: Shining the Light of Christ

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). Twinkling lights symbolize Christ’s light breaking into the darkness of our world.

Lessons in Hospitality from St. Nicholas

Give Generously

St. Nicholas’s secret acts of kindness remind us to give freely, as Jesus teaches in Matthew 10:8:

“Freely you have received; freely give.”

Welcome the Outcast

Romans 15:7 encourages:

“Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.”

St. Nicholas’s care for the marginalized reflects this inclusive hospitality. His generosity wasn’t limited to those who could repay him; it extended to anyone in need.

Defend the Truth

Like St. Nicholas, we are called to stand firm in our faith. Ephesians 6:14 says:

“Stand firm, then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place.”

Nicholas’s defense of Christ’s divinity at the Council of Nicaea reminds us that standing for truth is a form of hospitality—it invites others into the life-giving knowledge of who God truly is. Defending the truth as an act of hospitality might not be the first connection that comes to mind, but think about it for a second. At its core, hospitality is about welcoming others—making space for them to feel safe, cared for, and valued. It’s not just about putting out a cheese board and fluffing some throw pillows (although let’s not discount the power of a good charcuterie spread); it’s about creating a place where people can encounter something real. And what’s more real, more solid, than the truth?

Here’s the thing: truth, for us as believers, isn’t just an abstract idea or a philosophical debate. Truth has a name, and that name is Jesus. Remember what He said in John 14:6? “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” So, when we defend the truth, we’re not just protecting a concept—we’re standing up for the very heart of our faith and, in doing so, creating an open invitation for others to meet Jesus for themselves.

This wasn’t just a theological disagreement; Arius was messing with the foundational truth of who Jesus is. Now, I’m not saying we should go around decking people in the name of truth—let’s keep our hands to ourselves, violence is not the answer……..until it is—but what Nicholas did was about more than passion. He was defending the truth to protect the faith of the church, ensuring people could encounter the real Jesus: fully God, fully man, fully capable of saving us.

In a way, St. Nicholas’s fiery stance was a kind of hospitality. Stick with me here. By safeguarding the truth, he was creating a spiritual home where future generations—people like you and me—could find Jesus as He truly is. He was standing guard at the door, making sure that what we walked into wasn’t some watered-down version of the gospel but the real deal, the kind of truth that transforms lives.

Hospitality also means protecting the vulnerable, and let’s be honest, a lot of people today are vulnerable to lies. The world is a buffet of half-truths, twisted narratives, and outright deceptions, all served up with a side of confusion. When we defend the truth, we’re essentially pulling people out of the chaos and saying, “Hey, you don’t have to stay lost in all that. There’s clarity, there’s peace, and it’s right here.”

But here’s where the rubber meets the road: how we defend the truth matters. It’s not about swinging verbal punches like a theological Rocky Balboa. It’s about inviting people into the truth with love and respect. Remember what Peter said? “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15). That’s the difference between hospitality and hostility. Hospitality says, “I care about you, and I want to help you see the beauty and freedom in this.” Hostility just wants to win the argument.

Think of defending the truth like hosting a dinner party. You don’t throw open the door and start shouting, “You better love my lasagna, or you’re wrong!” No, you invite people in, you set the table, you create an atmosphere where they feel comfortable enough to take that first bite. When we defend the truth, we should do it in a way that makes people want to lean in, not run for the hills.

In practical terms, this could mean having a heart-to-heart with someone who’s wrestling with doubt, answering their questions with honesty and patience instead of rushing to “win” the conversation. Or it might look like taking a stand against a lie in the public sphere—not with arrogance, but with the quiet confidence that comes from knowing the truth is worth fighting for. It could even be as simple as living in such a way that your life becomes a living invitation to meet Jesus.

At its core, defending the truth is about extending an invitation. It’s like saying, “Come on in. Let me show you what’s real. Let me introduce you to the One who can give you rest for your soul.” That’s the heart of hospitality, isn’t it? Making space for others to encounter something—or Someone—that changes everything.

So, let’s not think of defending the truth as some combative task reserved for theologians and apologists. It’s something we’re all called to do, and when we do it with love, humility, and a heart for others, it becomes one of the most radical acts of hospitality we can offer. Truth isn’t a wall that keeps people out; it’s a door that welcomes them in. And when we stand at that door, ready to hold it open, we’re doing exactly what Jesus calls us to do.

To close, let’s revisit the famous 1897 editorial from the Chicago Sun-Times in response to 8-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon’s question, “Is there a Santa Claus?” The reply beautifully encapsulates the spirit of St. Nicholas:

“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.”

Santa Claus, rooted in the life of St. Nicholas, is not a distraction but a reminder of the spirit of giving and hospitality that Jesus embodies. As we celebrate Christmas, let’s reclaim the true meaning behind its symbols and traditions. By showing hospitality, defending the truth, and giving generously, we reflect the heart of God and the legacy of St. Nicholas. Because yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus—and through Christ, the love and generosity he represents can live on in each of us.