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Saturday, December 16, 2017

Santa and God

Our trip on the Polar Express railroad has me in a deep spiral of introspection.



Santa.
God.
The parallels.

And how much fun it is to be on the other side of belief.

I rented The Polar Express and watched it several times with both daughters this year. Then, I felt like the ultimate mom, finding tickets to a Polar Express EXPERIENCE! Riding on a real train? Drinking hot cocoa while arriving at the North Pole to see Santa?! I was willing to pay every dollar in our bank account, justifying the importance of experiences over things. The tickets were bought. The trip was booked. I was stoked.

Prior to this trip to the North Pole, my husband questioned the experience, "So we are all in on this lie then? I mean, I'm cool with it, but I'm just confirming, like we're flat out lying to them and pretending to go somewhere that doesn't exist."

"Yup, and we're gonna have so much FUN with it, babe," I reassured him.

He took a half day off work, and I picked up Lilah Grace early from school. I bragged to the registrar, "I'm here to pick up Lilah Grace, we are headed to the North Pole!" The 2 1/2 hour drive as our family of 4 was the perfect chance for the girls to nap, while I excitedly listened to Christmas music, thinking about how much fun we were about to have, and the memories we would create together. Papa G worked diligently on his laptop.

I finally got us to the station, parked the car, and loaded the train. The hostess and "chefs" came dancing down the aisle to a soundtrack of The Polar Express. Hot chocolate and cookies were served, and the book was read aloud. This was honestly the best part...we were huddled up under our warm Pendleton blanket, and the hot chocolate and cookie really were delicious. Better than usual. We attributed it to the North Pole secret delicious recipe. Magical.


After about 30 minutes (maybe? Time warp. Who knows.) of cruising, we made it to the North Pole. I thought we would be parking and playing there, but it was more of a...drive-by. Papa G and I tried to contain our laughter. 

When our 4 1/2 year old daughter saw the elves jumping up and down in front of a painted refrigerator cardboard box, she had a look on her face. My husband and I locked eyes because we both knew that look. It wasn't upset. It was inquisitive. It was one of the first times our daughter felt cynicism. 

"Dad, I have a secret," she said as she leaned in toward him, cupping her mouth over his ear. She told him she thought the "elves are actually just people dressed up as elves."

"I think so, too," my husband responded. "But you know, the real elves are probably busy making toys. This is the busiest time of year for them." She bought it, hook line and sinker.

She's only 4. I want the magic of Santa and the innocence of childhood to last a few more years, at least! But it got me questioning why I was so protective of this myth. To me, the myth symbolizes innocence and joy. I started thinking about what our response will be when we do have that conversation. My hope is that she never felt lied to, and that she will be excited about being "in on the secret," affirming that the Spirit of Christmas and the Spirit of Santa are real, and we get to make magic for others by embodying that Spirit. It's even more fun to be the magic maker behind the scenes, than to be the recipient!

Then, I kept going in my mind. I felt light, and at total peace, when I merged Santa with God.



I have been a Sunday School teacher, a regular Bible Study attendee, an acolyte, and was confirmed after a year of study in the Methodist tradition! I definitely once believed God to be like a "Santa." An old, wise, loving man.


I started to wonder why so many Christians are so afraid to question their idea of God, when they don't seem to struggle explaining the Spirit of Christmas with Santa. Is it fear of hell? Is it fear of "just in case I'm wrong, I don't want to turn my back on God?" Isn't that the definition of superstition?

When people believe in God as an external deity and go to church, tithe, confess sins, and ask for things in prayer, they are really hoping for heaven ((toys)) and avoiding hell ((a lump of coal in your stocking)). Whether it's writing a letter to Santa asking for a toy, or praying to God asking for a miracle, the parallels are uncanny.

So many people will stop reading now. Blasphemous. Sacrilegious. But what good is your faith if you can't question it? What if the most common view on God ((keep in mind I live in the Bible Belt, yall)) is actually a super limited view on God?

I feel called to share this post, because I am on the other side of this, and it's not scary. It's actually very fulfilling and peaceful. I see God in everybody, rather than pretending God is somewhere, and hoping for it to be true.

So, why do we lie to our kids about Santa? Because they are age appropriate for it. Their innocent imaginations pair perfectly with Santa and elves on shelves. It's fun. And honestly, it helps their behavior! I once believed in both Santa and God, and I am grateful for those previous beliefs! I'm glad I had the opportunity to believe in Santa, and now get to be Santa. I once "believed in God," and now connect with God, through my own Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit in others. I think experiencing both Santa and God through a magical lens was once appropriate, and enticed me. Now, I want both to be real, so I insist on being both in my world. 

One thing I know for sure is prayer without action is spiritual laziness. Imagine the disappointment a child would have if they asked for presents from Santa, and nothing came at all, because the parents didn't give a shit. That's heartbreaking! This is a wake-up call. You are both the parent and the child. You are both Santa and God. Ask, and give. Pray, and act.

To me, Santa and God are both the inherent good of everyday people. Divine, Selfless, Unconditional Love. Every single day, God is right there. When you pick up the phone and call your mom, you're talking to God, through your mother. When you hug your spouse, you're hugging God, through the conduit of your spouse. When you gaze into your child's eyes, you're LOOKING at God. My unsolicited advice is to quit thinking about some "North Pole" (("Heaven")) destination that doesn't exist, and for goodness sake, don't pay $150 to fake it on the pretend Polar Express ((or, with the religious metaphor, by attending some of these mega-churches)). Open your eyes and see God, and be God. Know who Jesus was. He would've flipped tables at a mega-church. Christians don't need all those HDTVs and stages with fireworks and confetti. Jesus was a hippy. If you don't know that by now, you literally have not read the New Testament.



The awareness of being that Love, and embodying that Spirit, during this time of year especially, has me on a high. Thank you for making it this far and reading these musings. Thank you for considering this view if you haven't before. Thank you for affirming this view if you feel the same. Thank you in advance for praying for my salvation, if this has freaked you out. I know your heart is in the right place, and I know mine is, too.

xo,
L