I remember very distinctly when I did believe in Santa. Santa was this amazing person who knew things about me and all children. Santa cared about me. Santa knew my Christmas Eve schedule, so that the presents would be delivered each Christmas Eve while we were at church. Santa knew me well enough to know what presents to bring even though I never wrote a letter.
But then there was Jesus. Jesus seemed like a good man. He told great stories and healed people. For a short time I even believed he told these stories every Sunday at my church. After all, there was a guy up there in a white robe telling stories everyone listened to, he must be Jesus.
I struggled for a while about the difference between Santa and God. Both seemed to know a lot about me and preferred when I acted good, but could overlook some minor bad behavior as long as I was sorry. When my Sunday School teachers asked what the meaning of Christmas was REALLY about I knew the answer was Jesus. (Being me, however, and never wanting to give the answer I just sat there while the other kids said Santa and the teacher go annoyed that none of knew it was Jesus.)
I stopped believing in Santa, finally. And my concept of God has changed from when I was little and confused the two, but this has been a slow process and still is kinda confusing. Santa and God just seemed to become one person. All those years I heard about Santa it really seemed like I was hearing about God. Eventually, the two concepts became one, and old habits tend to die hard.
I'm sure I am not the only one who got confused. Think about these images of God. Old man in the sky watching over us. We pray for things and God delivers. God brings healing to the sick who are prayed for, but only sometimes. This is Santa by another name.
I no longer believe in Santa, and I no longer believe in Santa God.
(You'll have to wait to hear what I believe in.)
No comments:
Post a Comment