December 6th, 2024

The Greatest Gift by Mary Faucheux.

Something about Christmas is elusive. From childhood and even now, as a young adult, Christmas time and the weeks leading up to the season leave me enchanted. I shy away from using the word magical in referring to matters of faith, but it is enchanting. It inspires wonder and joy.

Yet, that which is grand is also transcendent. I will not hold the Christ Child in my arms, nor see the Holy Family shivering in a mangy cave where the beasts of burden are kept. But I'm not supposed to. Our Church gives us Advent as a time to tap into the anticipation of Israel before the coming of Jesus at Bethlehem so that we can better anticipate His Second Coming.

Perhaps the Israelites of Jesus's age were like us: tired of human failings, lukewarm in our expectation of His coming, busy with other things. Maybe only Mary could display that electric anticipation for His coming into the world, His birth, and His ministry. She knew the day was coming. 

Jesus fulfilled prophecies but also shattered people's expectations. He came to save us from Satan, sin, and death – and He conquered! He was the King but was poor and lowly as well.

We are like the poor—or children—who cannot provide for themselves. We cannot produce our own Savior; we cannot stand in the place of God. Jesus, in serving God's plan, did that. Only He could. He became the Victim for our sins and our Savior. He became a child and poor too.

This is the elusive mystery that Advent and Christmas invite us into—the life of Christ, and that of Mary, who shows us the way to her Son. We meditate on their way of life and strive to live up to it, but they traversed this world long ago. We encounter them still in prayer, in the Eucharist, and in serving others, but we must see through eyes of faith.

The mystery is twofold. The anticipation of the Second Coming aspires for something that I have no knowledge of and, at times, am not sure I desire. The startling fact is that I'm not in control of when this will happen. What if I am content with my life here? What if I am not ready for judgment? Thus, Advent thrusts us into the twilight of “the already and the not yet.” Christ has come, and He will come again!

Today's readings remind me, “Wait for the LORD with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD” (Psalm 27:14). Despite my personal failings and fears about the world, God tells me to not let fear take control. Fear is a tactic of the evil one.

I wonder if St. Nicholas of Myra experienced fear, especially as he sat rotting in prison during the Great Persecution of Emperor Diocletian (303-313 AD). Heedless to threats and torture, he would not renounce Jesus. He would not sacrifice to false gods. Then, “out of gloom and darkness” as if with dull, blinded eyes, Nicholas was released and left his imprisonment, following Emperor Constantine's decree of religious freedom.

Numerous stories circulate about the saint's generosity and gift-giving. According to the St. Nicholas Center, he might have lived for a while in one of the caves at Beit Jala, near Bethlehem, where a church named after him now stands. December 6th is St. Nicholas's feast day in the Roman Catholic Church, and other denominations also usually celebrate it sometime in winter. For these and other reasons, he is permanently associated with Christmas.

In name (and to some extent, in practice), the fun-loving, Coca-Cola-drinking Santa Claus we're familiar with is derived from Saint Nick. Saint was translated into Santa. (Think of how many locales in California and beyond include “Santa” in their name and are merely the Spanish renderings of various saints' names.) Nicholas morphed into Nicolaas, then Klaus, and finally Claus. The red coat was borrowed from the scarlet attire a bishop wears, a position Nicholas held in Myra in modern-day Turkey. Of course, being charitable and giving to those in need make up a holiday tradition particularly Christian in flavor.

St. Nick re-enchants Advent and Christmas for us, reminding us to live by faith, not by fear. His story, like our readings, offers us hope for the coming of Christ, who frees captives, restores sight to the blind, and makes the deaf “hear the words of a book.” It is also telling that the feast of St. Nicholas doesn't coincide with December 25th. It comes weeks before. It's as if Santa shows up early to direct our attention to what, or Who, is coming next. We're not waiting for Santa Claus to come to town. We're waiting—with courage—for the Lord Jesus to return.

John Tuttle is a writer, teacher, and communications coordinator. He lives with his wife Ellen in Cherry Valley, IL.

Find out more about him here.