Dank u, Sinterklaasje
A brief history of Saint Nicholas, and thoughts on Christ as seen in the character of Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street.
I adore Santa Claus. I always have. He’s one of my favorite fictional characters. He’s also one of my favorite historical saints. And I think we can learn a lot about Christ and how to follow him by spending time meditating on both versions of good ol’ Saint Nick.
In the early days of the church, only a couple of centuries after Christ’s ascension, even before Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, lived a man named Nicholas. He was born in the village of Patara, located in what was then called Asia Minor, which is now the southern coast of Turkey.1
His parents were devout Christians, and raised their son in the faith, but they died because of an epidemic when he was young. They were very wealthy when they died, and left him a large inheritance. Nicholas took Jesus’s teaching about wealth very seriously, however, to the point that he was so generous with his money, he eventually gave away his entire inheritance to help the needy, the sick, and the suffering.
Nicholas's commitment to serving God drew the attention of other church leaders, who appointed him as Bishop of Myra when he was still quite young, a role that allowed him to continue his charitable work on a larger scale. He was known for championing the cause of the oppressed and defending the faith against persecution. The bishop's reputation for secret gift-giving and compassion became legendary, and his acts of kindness were celebrated far and wide.
Like many other Christians living around that time, Nicholas faced persecution from the Roman Emperor, Diocletian, who exiled and imprisoned Nicholas, along with a multitude of other clergy. It was recorded that the prisons were so overwhelmed with bishops, priests, and deacons that there was scarcely any room left over for actual criminals.
After his eventual release from prison, Nicholas was invited to join the Council of Nicaea in AD 325. That’s right, folks, when you say the Nicene Creed, whether at church or during your devotion time, you might also consider saying, “Thank you, Santa Claus.”
Nicholas’s earthly journey concluded when he passed away on December 6, AD 343, in Myra. This date would later be marked as St. Nicholas Day, the feast day on the church calendar set aside to celebrate his life and legacy, and to encourage us in our own faith journey. So, if you're reading this on the day it was published, happy Saint Nicholas Day!
There are many cherished tales about this saint of the church. One of them is about a destitute man with three daughters, each of them bereft of dowries and destined for slavery. Mysteriously, on three separate occasions, bags of gold appeared in their home, providing the needed dowries. The bags, thrown through an open window, are said to have landed in stockings or shoes left before the fire, giving rise to the enduring tradition of children hanging stockings for St. Nicholas to fill with gifts.
Nicholas's protective mantle extended to children even after his passing. A poignant story tells of the townspeople of Myra celebrating the saint on the eve of his feast day when marauding pirates abducted a young boy named Basilios. St. Nicholas, sent by Jesus, appeared to the terrified boy, blessed him, and returned him home. This became the inception of Nicholas's role as the protector of children in the Western tradition.
Another story tells how, during his pilgrimage to the Holy Land, Nicholas, then still a young man, faced a raging storm at sea. In a display of divine intervention, he prayed fervently, calming the tempest and saving the terrified sailors aboard, much like Jesus did with his disciples on the Sea of Galilee. Today, countless sailors ask Nicholas to intercede on their behalf for safe voyages.2
The veneration of St. Nicholas spread across Europe, and each culture developed their own unique customs and traditions to honor him. The Dutch Sinterklaas, for example, which included an elderly, white-bearded man dressed in a red stole and cap, who left gifts for good children and punished bad children, evolved from the original St. Nicholas traditions and was then brought to America by Dutch settlers in the 18th century. Over a period of two centuries, the Dutch-American image of St. Nicholas evolved into our contemporary, Western depiction of Santa Claus, complete with his own red suit, white beard, and a sack full of gifts.
Even if the modern day Santa had never came to be, the life of Saint Nicholas would still be one worth celebrating. Unlike any of the other saints of the church, however, Nicholas leaves an amazing legacy through the modern myths of Santa Claus, a legacy he certainly could not have imagined or intended, but one that is a treasure to many.
“What's the big deal about Santa Claus?” you may ask. “Isn’t he just another cog in the commercial Christmas machine? Isn't he just another advertising campaign to sell Christmas cards, cans of Coca-Cola, and commercials during Christmas movies?” It’s true that Saint Nicholas has definitely been slandered, but let’s not blame him for that. After all, Jesus preached,
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.
Matthew 5:11 (NIV)
It certainly isn't the fault of Saint Nicholas if his mission to help the poor, sick, and imprisoned, to be an advocate and rescuer of children, and to intercede for those who spend their lives on ships has been replaced in our culture by a jolly and rotund space-time-bending elf whose mission in life is to overcome the logistical nightmare of delivering toys to the home of every child who believes in him on a single night of the year. Blame Hollywood if you want, or the advertising agencies, or the toy manufacturers, but don’t blame Santa Claus.
Every once in a while, however, storytellers will create a new portion of the often-misleading Santa Claus narrative, and they'll actually get it right. Most of the time, it's just a small piece of their larger story, like the very ending of Disney’s The Santa Clause, starring Tim Allen, when he drops gifts to those below him using parachutes as he’s flying away, the very presents the two adults on the ground wanted more than anything else when they were children. Or when Father Christmas arrives in Narnia for the first time after many years, bringing with him presents for everyone, but especially important gifts for the Pevensie children in the form of weapons and other magic, as they–unbeknownst to them–begin their rapid approach toward the coming conflict with the White Witch and her army. But no story does a better job of demonstrating what a modern day Saint Nicholas could look like than the 1947 film, Miracle on 34th Street.
I won't break down the entire plot, because I assume you know the story well.3 As you’ll remember, Doris Walker (played by Maureen O'Hara) and her daughter, Susan (played by Natalie Wood), are in trouble. The life they live may seem wonderful to a lot of folks looking in from the outside–Doris is quickly moving up the corporate ladder of one of Manhattan's largest department stores, Macy’s; Susan is bright and energetic and well behaved; they live in a comfortable apartment in the middle of the city, close to Central Park–but the truth of the matter is that Doris is overworked and stressed and lonely. And Susan has been raised by her mother to be skeptical of and avoid anything that can't be explained rationally, like fairytales (and probably religion, too), so she hasn't learned to use her imagination or open herself up to experiences she can't easily explain. Their lives are practical and predictable and steadfast, but they are devoid of mystery and wonder and joy.
There’s also Fred Gailey (played by John Payne), a big hearted, good looking lawyer, who lives across the hall in their apartment building, and who has taken a somewhat distant but genuine interest in Susan's mother, Doris. With the help of young Susan, he finagles his way into getting himself invited to Thanksgiving dinner, and a romance soon begins to blossom between Fred and Doris. Their relationship is doomed to fail, however, because as deeply as Fred wants to love both Doris and Susan, the skepticism and jadedness they've lived under for so many years is shutting them off to the miracle of a new family for the three of them. Try as he may, it's a hopeless situation for Fred.
Enter Kris Kringle, who, unlike almost every other Hollywood depiction of Santa Claus, performs no magic tricks, pulls no impossible gifts out of a red sack, doesn't go up and down chimneys, doesn't drive a sleigh pulled by reindeer, and, while he certainly has plenty of jolly moments, can get angry when he is misrepresented or when he sees others being treated unjustly. And yet, he is a wonder-worker, for sure,4 and we will see in the end that the love he shows to the people around him, the principles by which he lives, and the very specific choices he makes on behalf of others, brings healing to the hearts of Doris, Susan, and Fred alike.
Kris may not perform any cheap magical tricks, but he does do some things that are inexplicable. My favorite of these is the moment when he circumvents the deeply entrenched skepticism of young Susan, the moment when the miracle begins working in her life. It’s one of my all-time favorite moments in film. Here’s a refresher for you.5
Let's pause from our Santa Claus story for a moment and think about the life of Christ on earth. Why did Jesus do miracles? Was he just doing nice things for people to help them out, to alleviate their suffering? He was doing that, for sure. Scripture tells us that he was often moved with compassion on behalf of the people who came looking for him, looking for relief, looking for hope. The people received the healings they were looking for when they sought Jesus, and I can guarantee you that every healing he performed alleviated the suffering of others. But those physical healings were only temporary. As I asked in part of a recently published set of poems, “Winter Questions,”
Lazarus how many breaths did you take before death caught you again?
However miraculous the resurrection of Lazarus may have been, he eventually died again, was buried again, probably in the same tomb as before, with that same stone rolled in front to shut out the smell of his decaying body. The physical effects of the miracles Jesus performed were temporary, and if the alleviation of suffering was the only thing he hoped to accomplish through his miracles, he ultimately failed.
Thankfully, we don't have to guess as to the real reason for Jesus’s miracles. The gospel of John tells us plainly. After Jesus performed his first public miracle, changing water into wine, we read this short and sometimes overlooked verse:
What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
John 2:11 (NIV)
To restate, the purpose of the signs and wonders Jesus performed during his earthly ministry were twofold:
To reveal his glory, meaning, to showcase his divine attributes.
To incite belief in the hearts of his disciples, and, by extension, those who would believe the message they would later preach.
In other words, by way of his miracles, Jesus was saying, “I'm going to prove to you who I am, and then you will believe.” His ultimate aim was not to alleviate the physical pain and suffering or sate the physical hunger and thirst of those around him. When he performed a miracle, he was shooting straight for the heart.
Let’s go back to the scene with Kris and the Dutch girl. Kris’s interaction with her using her own language is a wonderful expression of love and kindness (I could write an entire post about that one point), but the true wonder in this scene is the sizable crack he renders in the walls of Susan’s disbelief as she looks on, astonished. Without having to speak a single word to Susan directly, his actions communicate, “I'm going to prove to you who I am, and then you will believe.”
This is the legacy of Saint Nicholas, the same legacy that, however many metamorphoses it has undergone, is still present in the modern day myths of Santa Claus, if only we look with redeemed eyes.
There are lots of other places in this wonderful film where Kris Kringle showcases the spirit of the original Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas of Myra, and by extension the character of Christ-his playfulness with Susan, the encouragement he shows Fred, the patience he has with Doris, the generosity he shows by using the money he earns from playing Santa Claus at Macy’s to buy an x-ray machine for his doctor friend. Whether this holiday season or six months from now, I encourage you to go back and watch Miracle on 34th Street once again, and keep your eyes peeled for the kingdom of God breaking into the story. When you see it–and you will see it–remember to say, “Dank u, Sinterklaasje!”
This is the same area of the world in which was found the seven churches mentioned in the Revelation of Jesus Christ.
There’s a well-made documentary called Saint Nicholas: The Real Story, which tells a great deal more about the historical Saint Nicholas, which you can watch for free online.
If, by some strange set of circumstances, you’ve never seen Miracle on 34th Street, please, I beg you, stop reading this article. Step away from your computer or mobile device, and go watch it, as soon as possible. You'll get a lot more out of that film than you'll ever get out of anything I write. Once you're done, feel free to proceed with the rest of this piece.
In the Eastern Orthodox Church, Saint Nicholas is also known as “Nicholas the Wonderworker,” because of all of the miracles ascribed to him during his life, and even after.
If you’ve ever wondered what Nick is saying to the little Dutch girl, here is a transcript with translation.
Kris Kringle to the little girl:
Hallo! Ik ben blij dat je gekomen bent!
(Hello! I’m glad you came!)
Girl:
O, u bent Sinterklaas!
(Oh, you are Sinterklaas!)
Kris Kringle:
Jazeker!
(Sure!)
Girl:
Ik wist dat u het zou begrijpen!
(I knew you would understand!)
Kris Kringle:
Natuurlijk! Zeg maar wat je zou willen hebben.
(Of course! Tell me what you’d like to have.)
Girl:
Niets. Ik heb van alles. Ik wil alléén maar bij deze lieve dame zijn.
(Nothing. I have everything. I just want to be with this nice lady.)
Kris Kringle:
Wil je een liedje voor me zingen?
(Would you like to sing me a song?)
Kris & Girl:
Sinterklaas kapoentje,
Geef wat in mijn schoentje,
Geef wat in mijn laarsje,
Dank u, Sinterklaasje!
(Santa Claus, [term of endearment, akin to “you little rascal”],
Give me something in my shoe,
Give me something in my boot,
Thank you, Santa Claus!)
Celebrating Sinterklaas is still a big tradition here in Belgium and in the Netherlands. Some parents spend as much money on chocolate, candy and gifts as they do for Christmas. I never liked the tradition as a child and never celebrated it with my children. I can't tell them Sinterklaas exists and then later tell them he's not real, how are they supposed to believe God is real then? I also struggle with Zwarte Piet as a helper. He may be black because he crawles through chimney's but I also wonder about slavery and black image bearers.