Something about santa claus

ZENIT - The World Seen From Rome

Code: ZE05122027
Date: 2005-12-20
How St. Nicholas Became Santa Claus: One Theory
Jeremy Seal on an Epic History
BATH, England, DEC. 20, 2005 (Zenit.org).- The modern persona of Santa Claus is a far cry from its origins: St. Nicholas, bishop of Myra.

So how did he go from a charitable saint to an icon of Christmas consumerism?

Travel writer Jeremy Seal embarked on an international search to answer that question and recorded his findings in "Nicholas: The Epic Journey from Saint to Santa Claus" (Bloomsbury".

Seal told ZENIT what he discovered tracking the cult of Santa Claus across the globe and why he thinks St. Nicholas and his charism of charity still resonate today -- despite the commercialization of Christmas.

Q: What inspired you to write this book? To what lengths did you go to research it?

Seal: I was drawn to this subject because I have children of my own, two girls who were 6 and 2 when I started this project. They reminded me how significant a figure Santa is to children.

I also was attracted to St. Nicholas because his story has an epic quality. I am a travel writer and was aware that in his posthumous evolution he made a strange journey from his beginnings in Turkey to Europe, Manhattan and the frozen north.

I went to all the places associated with Nicholas' life.

I began in Turkey where his original basilica stands in Myra, now Demre; followed his cult west to Bari, Italy, and north to Venice; then Amsterdam and plenty of other places in Europe; then on to Manhattan and eventually to Lapland in northern Finland and Sweden with my daughters last Christmas.

Q: Who was St. Nicholas of Myra?

Seal: We know very little about him. He was a fourth-century bishop of Myra, a town in southern Turkey now known as Demre. There are almost no references to his actual life except for a material reference in a sixth-century manuscript.

We're left with an almost entirely posthumous St. Nicholas. But because he was such a success posthumously, it suggests something in his life must have commended him; we don't know much about him but get the sense that he was a special person.

Nicholas seems to be a sensible person that made his name from giving material, practical assistance. That aspect has resonated through the ages because material assistance is something we all need and can relate to.

Q: What are some of his most remarkable deeds?

Seal: There are a whole range of stories, because he was unique in living a long life. During his time, most Christian saints were martyred, but Nicholas has lots of stories because he lived a long life and he died in his bed.

You can select any number of stories about him, but most have in common his bringing help to people.

There are endless stories of him saving sailors caught in storms off Myra. Once he persuaded the captain of a passing ship to bring his grain cargo to Myra where people were starving -- and the captain's cargo of grain was replenished.

Some falsely accused soldiers awaiting execution saw him in a vision; Nicholas comforted them and brought about their release.

When the idea of Nicholas reached Russia in the 11th century, a whole new range of stories popped up. Russians call him "ugodnik," which means "helper." In Russia, he helps in other ways: assisting shepherds in protecting their flock from wolves, protecting houses from being burned down, etc.

Q: What obstacles did the cult of St. Nicholas face through the centuries?

Seal: I think there are two particular areas.

First, from the eighth century onward, the area where he began in southern Turkey was increasingly under threat from advancing Muslims, who didn't have much interest in him.

Nicholas' relics were removed from Turkey in 1087 and were taken to Bari, Italy, which established him in Europe and allowed his cult to expand throughout the continent. It was an amazingly timely relocation because he was not to be marginalized in a future Islamic country; he could start again in Bari with a cathedral over his relics.

Second, the Reformation swept across Northern Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries and downgraded the significance of saints. I think he survived that because he had become a figure that had moved beyond the Church -- he had become a cherished member of the home.

Nicholas would come every Dec. 6 and bring gifts down the chimney to children in Northern Europe as early as the 14th century; he was popular and much loved. This seems to have given him and his cult a kind of resilience when elsewhere the images and statues of saints were being razed, burned or smashed.

Q: How did he evolve into the present-day Santa Claus?

Seal: The love of Nicholas kept his cult alive up until the late 18th century in Manhattan, where a re-versioning of Santa Claus occurred.

The name "Santa Claus" is an American accented version of the Dutch "Sinterklaas." St. Nicholas and Santa Claus are the same person, but many people don't realize that. They are one in the same, but they look different because they are at different points in his posthumous evolution.

We don't know when the idea was carried from Northern Europe to New Amsterdam, now Manhattan. It's safe to say he came with early settlers as a fake memory and was then dormant in North America until the late 18th century.

What happened then was that gift giving, which had been until that time a local and seasonal exchange of homemade objects, exploded into something bigger. Mass manufacturing began, retail shops opened, toys became available from Northern Europe, and books, musical instruments and linens all became purchasable.

The effect this had was that gift-giving customs were transformed out of all recognition. This caused the need for a providing spirit of gift giving. St. Nicholas was the gift giver from the old world in the Dutch and English traditions; they didn't have to think back too far to remember him.

People in the late 18th century popularized the idea of Santa Claus, but not too deliberately at that time for commercialization. He began to emerge then and his name gradually changed into Santa Claus.

In the 1820s he began to acquire the recognizable trappings: reindeer, sleigh, bells. They are simply the actual bearings in the world from which he emerged. At that time, sleighs were how you got about Manhattan.

The poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas," also known as "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," debuted in 1822 and described all his details. He smoked a pipe then, but was well on the way to be the figure we know now.

As all these elements took shape around him, he became more and more associated with commercialism, which is understandable but a corruption of what he originally meant. In the medieval period he was a symbol and icon of charity. I am not sure that is true anymore; he seems to be a strange mixture of charity and rampant commercialism.

Q: What do you suggest faithful Christian parents tell their children about Santa?

Seal: What I have tried to do by tracing Santa back to his origin is remind myself there is a real moral point to gift giving. St. Nicholas' point was helping people when they were in a spot.

That is the lesson we can take out of this. Gifts just for the sake of giving to our loved ones who have enough may not reflect what St. Nicholas was all about.

How to frame questions about the significance of this man to children, I do not know.

I am a lapsed Anglican, but I find St. Nicholas fascinating from the intellectual and moral points of view. I love the wonderful moral material that he stands for, his active charity.

St. Nicholas appeals to anyone with any moral basis; no belief system can disagree with what he stands for.

He speaks to everyone because so much theology can be complex, but he and his stories are simple. I think that is why they have resonated for hundreds of years and why they had evolved into this family rite we practice with Santa Claus today.

When the Governor played Santa Claus

Sharmi Adhikary

Kolkata, December 20: 「I HEARD someone called Santa Claus will give us gifts. I love the Christmas tree. But I don』t know whose house this is,』』 exclaimed six-year old Priyanka Pandey, who was dressed as a flower ― a daisy to be precise. Although most of the children present in the lush lawns of Raj Bhavan today were oblivious of the address, nothing could dampen their spirits.  

The Governor was hosting a Christmas party for them. The 700-odd under-privileged children from local schools sponsored by NGOs were treated to goodies, carols and a cultural programme. The event was sponsored by the Calcutta Foundation. 『『We organise this party every year. We also have a programme during the Basanta Utsav held in these very lawns,』』 said Indrani Sinha Seth, a co-worker of the Calcutta Foundation. Some of the children looked resplendent in their colourful best. Others, in uniform, represented their schools. 『『I am dressed like Santa because this is a function for Christmas and I am going to play his part on the stage,』』 said Shama Parveen, looking the quintessential Santa Claus in her silver hair and beard. A makeshift stage was erected on the lawns where students from different schools presented dances and plays and recited poems. Francis Lepcha, a known face from the city』s party circuit, entertained the youngsters with melodious Christmas carols. Schools like Green Leaf School, Disha Foundation and Udayan participated in the programme. Even the Governor seemed pleased to join the party mood. Flanked by wife Tara, daughter and son-in-law, he greeted the little ones with sweetmeats and warm wishes. 『『I am happy to be with these children on such a happy occasion. They deserve these kind of celebrations,』』 said Gandhi. It was definitely a special way to usher in the Christmas spirit. 『『The NGOs have done a good job in making this day memorable for the children,』』 said the Governor.

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[CENTER]From St. Nicholas, by Pierre & Germaine Noury, Paris, 1928 [/COLOR] [/CENTER]

The Town Without Santa Claus, Part 1 (Chapters 1-8)
12/19/2005
         



CHAPTER ONE


By Jimmy Patterson

Luis shuffled quietly in his chair waiting for the others to arrive, stirring in creamer that turned his coffee from a stark black to his preferred caramel brown. He looked out the window repeatedly, almost nervously, and even Mabel behind the counter could tell he was having a tough time with the day. Just the fact that he was 80 would be the usual reason moisture ringed his eyes, but today Murray's eyes and the rest of his troubled face told only the story of his broken heart.
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For some 30 years the men -- The Four Honeys as they came to be known by Mabel -- gathered every Saturday morning and Tuesday night for their coffee convocations. Tuesdays were laid back. Saturday mornings the four men often found themselves trying to solve the problems of the world, knowing full well their opinions would never lead to much and the world would go about on its own troubled path regardless what was thrown on the table during their chats at the Meat N' Eat.
"You should do something about that sign, Mabel Evans, you know that don't you?" said a man holding open the door for his friend.
"I been meanin' to fix that thing, Joe Don," Mabel said in the same way she'd been saying it for the 30 years.
"Morning, Mabel sweetheart," Sam said as he and his cane walked in behind Joe Don.
Their usual smiles were missing this morning. Even Joe Don's playful jab at Mabel about the big "Meat N' Eat" sign out front was perfunctory. Either he wasn't feeling much like a scrape on this Saturday morning, or he'd finally figured that after all these years, if Meat hadn't been changed to Meet it probably never would be. But it still never satparticularly well with Joe Don that someone years ago had crawled up a ladder and haphazardly painted an E over the A and everyone acted as if everything was all right. But today he didn't feel much like arguing about it.
It was true that Joe Don and Sam bore a strong resemblance to each other. On many occasions it would happen that one of them would be selected as grand marshal of the Christmas parade, and talk in the tiny town invariably started as to which of them was atop the wagon pulled by Hope Springs' one and only Clydesdale Horse that year.
Both had white hair of the same length. They wore their mustaches the same way, sported glasses bought from the same shelf and even stooped rhe same way. They were Hope Springs' own Wilford Brimleys, and at least one of them often had the slightly cranky attitude to go along with the physical resemblance.
Sam was not cranky. He was a kind-hearted man who loved the world, would do most anything for his hometown and was a teaching legend in the town's schools for 60 years, until his retirement two years earlier. He told stories, sang songs to the kids, told corny jokes (Why did the chicken cross the road? To get away from the bad coffee at the Meat N Eat) and made learning fun. He was honored as a teaching legend by the school board 20 years before he retired and immediately after earning the honor, his vision problems kicked in and he began teaching while legally blind. He moved across the street from the school and he had his wife Joyce drive him to and from his doctor's appointments. But he never told another soul save for Joyce and his Meat and Eat group that he couldn't see because of the ever-present dots in his field of vision.

Joe Don more than earned his cantankerous reputation from time to time, but most of the Hope Springers just passed it off as geriatric venting and frustration. Joe Don was actually the Rev. Hutchinson, pastor of what had once been Hope Springs' biggest church. He was all things to all people and he treated his Saturday and Tuesday conversations with his friends as mini vacations and confession sessions in which his own soul was cleansed. His crankiness really never amounted to much though mostly it was Joe Don who led the charges about what was wrong with the world. He complained a lot about the Meat and Eat sign and he disliked potholes immensely and he complained to the politicians at city hall that Hope Springs' only streetlight was not properly synchronized.

"Well, Rev. Hutchinson, how can it be improperly synchronized ... it's the only light we have?" wondered Bobby Hutchinson, Hope Springs' city manager who doubled as the reverend's son.

"Because it turns red every time I drive up to it! I do hope you'll consider putting a little of my tax money into fixn' it," Joe Don said.

Bobby Hutchinson tried for years to get the light fixed at limited taxpayer expense and for many years it never seemed quite enough to soothe his father's grumbling. Eventually, Rev. Hutchinson stopped complaining about the light and even confessed to his congregation one Sunday that he had been using the extra time spent at the red light in prayer. Eventually the device itself took on the nickname "The Light of Jesus," maybe the only traffic light in America that had a nickname.

Joe Don led Sam over to the table where Luis was still stirring his creamer into his coffee, almost compulsively by now. Luis motioned to the both of them to pull up a chair, but said nothing.

"Beautiful service, reverend," Luis finally looked up and said to Joe Don.
"It's hard to believe he's gone," the preacher said, not really knowing what else to say, one of the few times he was caught without words in recent memory. "I'll miss him dearly."

Sam's eyes that couldn't see well could still tear up with the best of them, and he and Luis sat in quiet commiseration over the death of Frank, the fourth member of their Tuesday and Saturday groups.

"He was loved by everyone who ever met him," Murray said. "He was our heart and our soul; the town's heart and soul for that matter."

And for the next hour, Sam and Luis and Joe Don sat and told stories about their just-passed best buddy. They laughed, cried, and imitated his constant hand gesturing and his flirting with the town librarian (something he was famous for). Mabel listened with half an ear and found herself becoming emotional on several occasions as she eves-dropped and stood on a chair taking down Thanksgiving decorations around the Meat and Eat.

"Oh my goodness!" Luis said suddenly, looking at Mabel, his eyes welling up again. His look told Joe Don and Sam that he was sure Frank's death would soon bring on a real quandary. "What are we going to do about Christmas?"

(to be continued...)

for those people who have santa claus or who don't have santa claus!
enjoy, every one!
santa claus's home

Merry christmas to you all.

HO HO HO .... merry christmas to U!!

Thanks for sharing. I have learned a lot!  look forward to more coming.