Among our many honored Yuletide traditions is complaining about the commercialization of Christmas. Or, better yet, the commercial racket of Christmas. It’s entrenched in two of our most iconic Christmas stories: A Charlie Brown Christmas (Charlie Brown won’t let commercialism ruin his Christmas!) and Miracle on 34th Street. (Imagine a New York accent with me: “Make a buck, make a buck …”)

I’ve no use for this tradition, because I have no sympathy for the complaint. I’m not even sure what people are complaining about. Do they think people should be high-minded enough to celebrate without spending a good sum of money? Do they think the junction of commerce and Christmas dirties up the holiday? Does it bother them to see businesses making money off of Christmas? (Wait till they find out that doctors make money off of sick people!)

I’ve wondered if what some people mean by “commercialization” is valuing and emphasizing material things over spiritual things, but if so, they’re confused; the proper term for that is materialism.

If Christmas sometimes feels cheap, it’s not because it’s commercial; it is the eternal instinct of humanity to celebrate things – birthdays, weddings, harvests, religious holy days, anything worth celebration – with some combination of music and food and gifts and decorations. Wherever possible, this involves money. Maybe the angels know how to rejoice in spiritual things in purely spiritual ways, but we humans must be allowed our material celebrations.

There is always a danger, of course, that material things will trump, or even drive out altogether, the infinitely more important spiritual things. But I don’t think even that is the principal reason for the dullness that can make even a believing Christmas stale. We know perfectly “the reason for the season”; we remember often; it is in the songs we sing, the decorations we put up, the sermons we hear. But for all that, isn’t there a time for all Christians when we just don’t feel Christmas?

What leaches joy from Christmas is sometimes no more complicated than the fact that we have grown used to it. We always grow used to things, and then we forget how wonderful they are. We’ve forgotten that we live in our own fairyland, that it’s incredible that the sky is blue and leaves are green and birds fly. We’re inured to the massive complexity of life, complacent to the notion that we are at every moment careening through space at unimaginable speeds. Scientists tell us the whole universe balances on the knife’s edge where order and life are possible, prophets and saints promise us everlasting glory in God’s name, and we believe and go on our way.

We lose the wonder. All our lives we hear the Christmas story, and we grow used to that, too: used to God being born in a stable, used to the nobody shepherds being sent by angels to see Him, used to wise men appearing from no one knows where to worship a newborn Jewish king, no one knows why. And though we remind ourselves how wonderful it all is, some Decembers we can hardly feel it.

But if wonder can be lost, it can also be regained, and often in the most unexpected moments. Anyway, the truth matters more than our feelings about it. The story of Christmas is no less marvelous in the two thousandth year (and on the two thousandth telling) than it was that first night. We have the good news of great joy, every bit as much for us as for the shepherds; we have the Savior, helping us this very day. Emmanuel came, and now God will be with us forever.

So Merry Christmas.

The series is complete.

Skeptics of the recently concluded The Hobbit film series, please, don’t be a Scrooge.¹

Go see the final film(s) you’ve missed, including The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies that released in U.S. theaters last week.² The film trilogy ends on a high note (though not too high, lest The Lord of the Rings ending seem redundant) and a beautiful, subtle return to the start of The Fellowship of the Ring film that is not at all like the heavy-handed end of another infamous prequel film trilogy (George Lucas’s Star Wars prequels, cough cough).

Moreover, the film preserves with excellent flourish the most central and powerful themes of Tolkien’s subversive “simple children’s story” — themes such as a homebody Hobbit finding his inner courage, a would-be king’s idolatry that nearly destroys him, and politics and greed between people groups that must be put aside to fight the true enemy.

Mind you, the film has its flaws, not as many as some fans or cynical critics would count but enough to make The Hobbit book readers wince. As I note at Christ and Pop Culture:

Surely many filmmakers do prize power, wealth, and adulation, and can abuse these gifts for sinful ends. But if we get stuck on these flaws, we will miss the delights even flawed filmmakers can share with us.

… Yes, many films are made to appeal to different viewers: hardcore fans, casual fans, and folks who “go to the movies” and merely pick a title while standing in line. Thus we get plot holes, dumb romances and action sequences, and just plain poor filmmaking decisions. But if you don’t fight these shortfalls to enjoy the overall story, you’re going to have a bad time.

… A day may come when we craft films that are utterly free of special-effects overindulgence and are fully faithful to the original books. A day may come when New Hollywood filmmakers worship only God and not franchise mammon, and fans don’t care who wins the box office. But it is not this day!

Now here are the final questions of this three-year The Hobbit reading project.³

Chapter 19: The Last Stage

1. How does this chapter begin with a slightly different feel than the previous one?
2. It appeared that Gandalf had been to a great council of the white wizards, masters of lore and good magic; and that they had at last driven the Necromancer from his dark hold in the south of Mirkwood. (283) Would you have preferred hearing more about that story? Why might Tolkien not explore that story further here? (Bonus question: good magic?)
3. [Gandalf:] “… I wish [the Necromancer] were banished from the world!” [… Elrond:] “… I fear that will not come about in this age of the world, or for any after.” For those familiar with The Lord of the Rings, is he right? Why does this story “hide” the Necromancer?
4. For several chapters we have heard no songs. Now the songs are back. How come?
5. If the main story has truly ended, why this full chapter about Bilbo’s return journey?
6. Might there be some meaning to Bilbo retracing his earlier journey, this time without Dwarf companions, disaster, or any other incident? Later, for the first time Bilbo himself sings a song. After this, Gandalf remarks that the hobbit truly seems different — is that possibly because of his song’s theme, or the fact that Bilbo chooses to sing at all?
7. Bilbo returns to find friends and relatives raiding the comfortable hobbit-hole he loved so much, and even after he stops that, he is no longer “respectable.” How does he react?
8. Balin returns with an update on the Mountain area. How does this help the story end?
9. Coming at last to the end, how do you feel about the story’s end? Do you feel that Bilbo, the Dwarves, the Mountain, and Middle-earth are still “out there” somewhere? What may drive this love for fantastic people and places that don’t technically exist? Why may God have given us this response to storytelling — and how does it glorify Him?

The Christmas season is full of speculative stories.

First up is the “jolly old elf” himself, Santa Claus. The story may have started with the real-life Saint Nicholas of Myra who secretly dropped gifts of money into windows, but modern storytelling turned him into a fat man living at the North Pole with an army of elves, working all year to prepare for one day: the day he hops into a sleigh loaded with presents for every child on Earth, pulled by a contingent of flying reindeer into the sky, and in one night delivers all those gifts to each child in the world. Usually by sliding down a chimney (who builds a chimney like a slide—shouldn’t that be falling down a chimney?) with a sack of gifts to place under each Christmas tree. How could he do all that? Maybe Santa’s really a Time Lord with a sleigh-shaped Tardis.

Then there’s Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, a story about one of a group of flying reindeer with a glowing nose that can cut through thick fog better than a car’s headlights. That way Santa knows where he’s going. See what I did there? Santa knows. Nose. Glowing . . . oh forget it.

Speaking of speculation, what about a snowman who comes to life? Could be a horror story, but with Christmas, it is a cute, lovable, and polite creature generated by a magical hat. Which makes me speculate what else that hat can bring to life. I’d avoid putting it on a chain saw. Yikes!

Scrooge and Bob Cratchit — a hand colored etching by John Leech (1809 – 1870), from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (1812 – 1870)

Another notable mention is Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” Here, ghosts lead an old man to see just how bad his life has been by showing him his past, present, and future. There have been so many versions of this story made, that if they were to put them all into books, the whole world would not be big enough to contain them.

The list could go on. Sorry if I left your favorite out.

There is another story that some also believe to be fiction.

Indeed, it is the reason why some Christians suggest it is unhealthy to read fiction, because it might not only replace truth, but cause one to associate God’s truth with fiction.

After all, the real story of Christmas is just as fantastical as any of the above. An infinite God who has no beginning or end, becomes a finite human, part of His creation, by being born of a virgin. The omnipresent God, who uses the Earth as His footstool, resides in Mary’s womb as a baby. On top of that add in angelic choirs, wise men following a star, angels dishing out directions from God, and you have about as much fantastical events as any fantasy novel you could read.

Some Christians fear that by reading and watching entertaining fiction stories, that people will grow up considering Biblical stories, like Christmas, to be just as much fantasy as the latest Games of Thrones novel. To a degree, this can be supported by pointing to famous people in history who came to such a conclusion.

But did they reach those conclusions because of the fantastical nature of those stories, including the Christmas story? Or because they rejected anything fantastical as being real?

After all, if you believe in God as the Bible portrays Him, there’s no problem. It isn’t the fantastical nature of a story that makes it fantasy. Rather, it is whether the creator of that story can bring it into existence or not. Guess what? God is the only author who can do that.

What I imagine, speculate, write, and speak when I create a story can never be real, no matter how unfantastical it is. Whatever God imagines, speculates, writes, and speaks becomes real, no matter how fantastical it is.

It is impossible for me to create anything other than fiction. It is impossible for God to create fantasy. When He speaks, reality listens.

This world, this creation, this life, since the moment God said, “Let there be light,” until at the Last Judgment when God ends this creation as we know it, is God’s speculative book. A book with the most intricate world building ever, the most complex plot containing billions of side-plots more amazing than any novel written by man. A story with a diverse cast numbering in the billions yet each one unique and integral to the various plots and The Plot. The scenery hits all our senses with stunning reality and jaw-dropping vistas upon which all man-written novels are but shadowy reflections at best.

Indeed, it is God’s story that is the template upon which all other novels are judged for their believability and realism. After all, if a character in one of our man-made novels were to write a story, could they ever hope to supersede their author? To our character, the world and life we create in our novel is their reality.

How fantastical the elements of a story are don’t make it a fantasy, but rather who is writing the story.

We know the story of Santa Claus, Rodolph, Frosty, and Scrooge are made-up, not real, sometimes having little directly to do with Christ and the “Reason for the Season.” They can serve the real story, but they are not the basis upon which the Christmas celebration derived its meaning, as much as the non-Christian might want to focus on them and relegate the story of Christ’s birth as one more fantastical story in a long list.

The difference is that God created this story of which the birth of Jesus Christ is an important part of the plot. Acknowledging Him as the author of this unfolding existence we are living is what makes our creations fantasies, and His speculations reality.

Writing and reading speculative fiction can’t make God’s story fiction for a reader unless they no longer believe God is the Author of Life.

In two days, we who believe Him to be the Author of Life will celebrate that part of God’s story. We’re not celebrating Santa Claus, Rodolph, or Frosty. Those are fun stories with their own value, but their authors are human, and that’s what makes them fiction.

Merry Christmas and a most blessed celebration of God’s astounding plot twist in Christ!

Most of my articles here at Speculative Faith concern the intersection of speculative fiction and my belief in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. Sometimes I focus primarily on speculative fiction, but today, I’m tipping the scales the other way and writing primarily about my faith. After all, another Christmas is approaching.

Two years ago during the week of Christmas there was a late-night police action in my neighborhood–an unruly party, perhaps, or some sort of illegal drug or gang activity or possibly individuals succumbing to anger and venting in a display of domestic violence. This year an ambulance (with accompanying EMT and fire truck) pulled up across the street in front of my neighbors’ house.

Ah, it’s Christmas.

We celebrate Jesus, good news to the world, because He brings peace on earth, He gives joy to all mankind. Yet so obviously, many people do not have peace or joy and do not understand the promise of Christmas.

How have we Christians failed to tell the world the truth about Jesus? No, He is not a cute newborn or a religious version of Santa Claus. He is the image of the invisible God. In Him all the fullness of Deity dwells.

So what? Jesus isn’t here now.

He Himself answered this when He was talking with His disciples—first, He came to show the Father, but also by going away, He made it possible for the Holy Spirit to take His place, so to speak.

In Old Testament times Israel had God in their midst. They had prophets who told them what God said and priests who would make sacrifice on their behalf.

In the New Testament the disciples had Jesus with them–talking, teaching, living, performing miracles.

But now, in the “Church age” we who are part of the family of God, each one, have God in us. Consequently I enjoy the fellowship of God—His presence, His counsel, His conviction, comfort, truth, assurance. He holds my hand and to Him I cling. He is with me when waters overflow. He is the One in whom I will boast—not in wisdom, riches, or might.

Jesus coming in the flesh made this relationship with God possible. That’s why it’s important to celebrate Christmas. It’s the single-most pivotal event in history. Some may think Easter holds that place, but Easter is actually an extension of Christmas, the culmination of it.

Jesus, born of Mary, was God’s first step onto earth in the skin of Man. It was the beginning, the realization of the promise, “For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us.” Everything that night of Jesus’s birth was a shout—the great, glorious plan of redemption, worked out before the foundations of the world, was unfolding. It was being revealed to us who, through Him, would become believers in God.

Christmas is the ultimate Reveal! It’s the greatest ah-ha moment since time began.

But so many people look past it or don’t get it. Perhaps too many have relied on slogans, as true as they may be—put Christ back in Christmas; say Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays; wisemen still seek Him; Jesus is the reason for the season.

Perhaps we’ve allowed the birth events to dominate the meaning of Christmas. As important as was the virgin birth, the angelic announcement to the shepherds, the coming of the magi, the real “magic” of Christmas is this “first step” in God’s plan to rescue His creation. It’s begun. And praise God that it is so!

Maybe even, go tell it on a mountain. Or in a story.

– – – – –

This article, apart from a few minor editorial changes, is a reprint of one posted in December 2012 under the same title.

I believe in Santa Claus.

That’s right. I, an adult male in my thirties, believe in Santa Claus. I believe in him because I have met him.

Before anyone starts wondering about my sanity, let me clarify. This is not some modern Miracle on 34th Street. I did not meet a jolly fat guy in or out of a big red suit with (or otherwise) a sled of eight reindeer, or nine with Rudolph, or whatever other depictions say. I am not referring to Santa Claus in a literal sense. I am referring to the idea of Santa Claus, or what the English would call Father Christmas.

Santa Claus and Father Christmas are very much alike in popular culture and concept these days, but they are different in origin. Quite so. Santa Claus comes from the Dutch figure Sinterklaas, or Saint Nicholas. This figure was based upon the historical figure of Saint Nicholas of Myra, a real life bishop in the early Christian church. This bishop would do mysterious good deeds for the poor where he lived, in what would become present-day Turkey.

The Dutch took this mythic figure and brought celebrations of his deeds at Christmas time to the Americas in their colonies. When the British Empire conquered the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam and renamed it New York, many Dutch remained as citizens. Various traditions were eventually adopted by the incoming British subjects, most notably that of Sinterklaas, whose name was eventually anglicized Santa Claus. He was still portrayed as a figure quite different and more pious than who we know today.

Eventually, through various media such as newspaper cartoons by Thomas Nast, and the famous poem, “The Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore, the popular conception of Santa Claus began to change to the modern image that we see today. This change was further cemented in the 1930’s, thanks to the Coca-Cola Company‘s introduction of Santa Claus on the famous Santa Coca-Cola can.

Father Christmas has a slightly different origin. He is the personification of the Christmas Spirit. Early English paintings and works have him as a kind yet pious man who spreads good cheer and helps those in dire straits. This can be seen most directly in the character of “The Ghost of Christmas Present” from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. The character is very much based upon the idea of Father Christmas, where he helps Ebenezer Scrooge, and spreads good cheer on the people during his Christmas Eve jaunts with Scrooge.

Eventually, aspects of the characters of Father Christmas and Santa Clause influenced each other, and the present versions of the two — very similar to each other — characters that we see today are in use. It should be noted that Father Christmas is still much more regal than Santa Claus, likely owing in part to the Victorian and religious roots of the figure versus the folklore roots (which overcame the religious ones) of Saint Nicholas cum Santa Claus.

The best, in my opinion, version of the combined figure of Father Christmas/Santa Claus is from CS Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the first book of his Chronicles of Narnia. In the book, a jolly, but serious figure, said to be Father Christmas, gives the characters gifts that range from fun for the Narnians, to serious and essential for the Pevensie children. He is about heralding a season and time of blessing and joy, as Aslan has come and broken the White Witch’s spell. In a very real way, Father Christmas has always been seen as heralding the coming of the Christmas season where we celebrate the birth of the Messiah, Jesus, Who died for our sins, rose again, and restored us to peace with our God.

This is the Santa, the Father Christmas, that I saw and felt years ago while going home on military leave from my Army unit’s deployment in Iraq. Only God knows what the others were thinking, not me, but I truly believe that this Spirit was seen in the joy on the faces of those around me, in a small chapel in the dusty, cold, and muddy streets of an Air Force base in Kuwait on Christmas Eve.

We had been told that the flights home would not happen until the evening of Christmas Day, and we had to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning in Kuwait on the base. There had been this air of excitement in the building as we all (those of us who got to have leave at this time) awaited the details of our impending flight home in the early morning hours of the 24th. Then the sad news was given to us, that we could not make it home until the day after Christmas. The general feeling of dejection was palpable. We grumbled amongst ourselves, and at the travel staff. Our behavior was quite lousy, to say the least. Most of the day was spent in sadness, until the evening, when a surprising thing happened.

There were several services that evening, including one at midnight. As each service passed, it seemed that everyone’s mood – including my own – improved drastically, until finally the midnight service came. There, in that small Air Force chapel in Kuwait, we shut off the lights, took lit candles, and passed them around. In hushed tones, we began to sing “The First Noel.”

I remember looking around as I sang, looking at everyone’s faces faintly illuminated by the candles that we all held. So many different denominations, believers and lost alike, and countries of origin, were represented. Yet here we were, on Christmas Eve, thousands of miles from home, and we were all happy. Most people would wonder at that, that joy that we all seemed to feel that night, given where we were, but I know it was really what was in our hearts.

That is when I believe I saw Father Christmas, when I saw Santa Claus. I saw him not as a figure, but as a Spirit sent by God to bless us all. In that moment, no one seemed to be contemplating gifts, food, decorations, or any of the usual “holiday cheer”. We appeared to focus on the miracle that occurred a little over two thousand years ago in a stable a couple of hundred miles away in Bethlehem. God came to save us from our sins. He did so much for us, when we were His enemies. Not because He had to do so, but because He chose to do so.

That day we had spent sulking about not being home for Christmas, about “missing Christmas”. We (including myself and other Christians) didn’t seem to have Jesus or God’s gift of salvation on our hearts. We truly needed a wake-up call. The Lord had no reason to give us one, or to bring us comfort, as we showed nothing but ingratitude and lack of joy. Nevertheless, He chose to give us said comfort. He chose to bring us the joy of Christmas, and show us the true meaning. I had not seen before, and wonder if I ever will see since, the joy, happiness, the Christmas Spirit that I saw that night.

I believe in Santa Claus. I believe in Father Christmas. He is the Spirit of the Lord, Who brings happiness and joy to us all, at that season. I met him in that small chapel in sandy and muddy Kuwait. On that Christmas that was the best that I ever had. He holds out His hand to all of us, waiting to save us if we simply accept His free gift of salvation. And though I can’t know anyone’s heart but my own, this is what I believed I saw that night with the other Service Members around me. This Christmas, remember the joyous truth that Father Christmas heralds: God become flesh to save us from our sins. Remember and accept.

“And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, ‘God bless Us, Every One!’” – Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Why do some Christians insist on pitting Santa vs. Jesus Christ the Hero of Christmas, when they wouldn’t do the same with any other good gifts in their families, churches or cultures?

Today I found this inconsistent, glum, and Gospel-reductionistic perspective on Santa as displayed by John Piper, in a micro-podcast and its transcription called “Rethinking Santa.”

Piper is a now-retired pastor and current author, most famously of the book Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist.¹ But his thoughts on whether Santa Claus can be a part of Christmas celebrations (hint: no) aren’t very Christian-hedonistic.²

Santa Claus, per some Christians’ imaginations.

Jesus vs. Santa: Piper’s false dichotomy

It is mindboggling to me that any Christian would even contemplate such a trade, that we would divert attention away from the incarnation of the God of the universe into this world to save us and our children.

This warning is needed for Christian parents or children who are careless about Christ and act as if good things like legends, games of pretend, and material gifts are a sinful replacement “chief end of man,” even for a day or a season.

But why insist that this is the only way Christians would use Santa?

Does every Christian parent or even the majority of Christian parents enjoy Santa games for idolatrous reasons, as only unhealthy competition to Christ? That isn’t how I saw him. When I was a child, my parents presented Santa (intentionally and otherwise) as a symbol of the bountiful gifts in Christ. Santa was not a “trade” but an effective delivery service for a few small things that also show the Savior’s bountiful love. He gives every good gift, though these gifts must be made holy through the word and prayer (1 Tim. 4:1–5).

Not only is Santa Claus not true — and Jesus is very truth himself — but compared to Jesus, Santa is simply pitiful, and our kids should be helped to see this.

This warning is needed for any Christian parents who have a low or un-biblical view of the amazing Hero, Jesus Christ, Who is absolutely the central Figure of Christmas.

But shall we apply this same warning for all Christians, presuming they are so immature that they cannot handle other heroes, real or imaginary, lest they distract from Christ? What if we said, “Compared to Jesus, Charles Spurgeon is simply pitiful.” “Compared to Jesus, Aslan of The Chronicles of Narnia is simply pitiful.” “Compared to Jesus, John Piper is simply pitiful.” “Compared to Jesus, Bilbo Baggins of The Hobbit is simply pitiful.”³ And what about other good gifts of Jesus? Compared with Him, food is pitiful, married romance and sex is pitiful, children are pitiful, church politics are pitiful.

Yes, all these are true! But do we only ever issue dour warnings about these gifts? This is an overly self-abasing “worm theology” way to live, as if under constant suspicion that mature Christians are still totally depraved and cannot enjoy gifts lest they distract from Jesus. Yes, these can distract from Jesus. But the best way to prevent this is to see gifts as His gifts.

Santa Claus offers only earthly things, nothing lasting, nothing eternal.

This warning is needed for Christians who haven’t been learning, or teaching their children, an eternal perspective that is informed by Scripture.

But what about parents who are teaching this? Do they not have freedom to enjoy (or not enjoy) holiday traditions and myths?

Jesus offers eternal joy with the world thrown in — the fire engine is thrown in (1 Corinthians 3:21–23).

Is Santa only the Grinch who steals Christmas from Jesus?

I’m unsure what Piper means by “the fire engine is thrown in.” If this is an allusion to Christmas gifts, such as toy fire engines, then this is just how Christian parents can (and some already do) enjoy Santa as part of their Christ-exalting holiday celebrations.

Santa Claus offers his ephemeral goodies only on the condition of good works: “He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows when you have been bad or good, so be good for goodness’ sake.” That is a pure works religion. And Jesus offers himself all the gifts freely, by grace, for faith.

This warning is certainly needed for Christians who effectively run their homes according to works-righteousness religion (and there are far too many of those).

But who decided that Santa-celebration must always be paired with the “making a list and checking it twice” notion? Last I checked, there is no civil or religious statute that forces parents to accept the whole popular-culture package. Rather, if they want to enjoy Santa as part of their Christ-exalting holiday celebrations, they have the freedom — and I would argue, they also should — to reject the works-righteousness part and embrace the lavish-giving-and-grace part. It turns out many popular adaptations of the Santa story do this already.⁴

Santa Claus only shows up once a year. […] Santa Claus cannot solve our worst problem. […] Santa Claus is not relevant in many cultures of the world.

This warning is needed for any Christians who sinfully promise their children that Santa is actually omnipresent, or that Santa is the solution to our worst problem of rebellion against God, or that Santa is a global phenomenon.

But where are those people?

Many Christian parents are certainly careless about their Santa presentations. Children will fill in the gaps with all manner of notions and imaginations. Children can lose track of what’s fantasy and what’s reality. But even in that case, Piper again presumes parents are incapable of enjoying the Santa legend but also in perspective. Parents can teach: “‘Santa’ is one of Jesus’s little helpers.” It’s easy — if your children are able to listen and enjoy, rather than abuse the fantasy into an idol. If your children make it an idol, then re-evaluate.

Santa Claus will be forgotten some day and Jesus “is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).

This warning is needed if parents, in belief or practice, uphold Santa as equivalent to Jesus.

But why presume that Santa Claus will be forgotten someday?

For my part, I will always remember how God used the Santa fantasy to impress on me the wonder and joy that is ultimately found in Him alone. I will always remember Christmas, Santa and gifts and all, as an extra-special time to celebrate God’s gifts such as family and toys and celebrate the Giver in His human incarnation. I will always remember everything, come to think of it — even if Santa did turn out to be evil! No Scripture says that, as George MacDonald said, Christians will be greater fools in eternity than we are here. Rather, in Heaven (and then the New Earth, Rev. 21), redeemed saints will begin to see how God used everything — gifts, abuses of gifts, sins, and good acts alike — as part of His Story.

“A Merry Christmas! Long live the true King!”

Father Christmas, servant of Aslan

Oddly enough, one of the best ways to start seeing Santa and any other cultural legend in light of the Gospel, is taught in the 2013 Desiring God conference messages about the life and beliefs of C.S. Lewis. Lewis believed that even pagan myths can reflect the True Myth. Piper himself credited this view in his messages “C.S. Lewis, Romantic Rationalist: How His Paths to Christ Shaped His Life and Ministry,” and “What God Made Is Good — And Must Be Sanctified: C.S. Lewis and St. Paul on the Use of Creation.”

Despite knowing this in other “departments,” Piper concludes about the Santa “department”:

I cannot see why a parent, if they know and love Jesus, if they have found Jesus to be the greatest treasure in the world, why they would bring Jesus out of the celebration and Santa into the celebration at all — I mean, he is just irrelevant. He has nothing to do with it. He is zero.

Honestly, this is even worse reductionism. It’s plain personal opinion, possibly one that is stigmatized by some parents’ sins and abuse of the tradition. But it is neither consistent with Piper’s own approval of Lewis’s “redeeming pagan myths” views, nor with Scripture.

Piper’s own effective mentor, C.S. Lewis, showed exactly how Christians can bring Santa into the celebration of Jesus Christ.

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Father Christmas finally enters the frozen land of Narnia that his master, Aslan, has begun to thaw. Father Christmas reflects the traditional figure 100 percent. He has a sleigh with reindeer, a sack full of gifts, and magical abilities including the power to enter locked rooms and leave gifts. But he also serves Aslan, Narnia’s king, as Aslan’s noble follower. In fact, if Aslan is a type (the better term is supposal) of Christ, then Father Christmas is a type of Aslan.

Father Christmas provides for the children’s and the Beaver couple’s immediate needs.

Father Christmas even provides a small feast, hearkening to future celebration of victory.

Father Christmas distributes gifts that are wonderful yet also suited to each child’s abilities and real-world callings. I love it when he says, “These are tools, not toys.” Some of the best gifts I can remember as a child were just that: tools, not just toys. I still have many of them.

Father Christmas honors Aslan as his own lord and savior. As he leaves he shouts, “A Merry Christmas! Long live the true King!”⁵ — honoring, yet redeeming, the original legend.

Go deeper

Over the past years of Christmases at SpecFaith we’ve had much to say about Santa Claus.

Our latest will be I Believe in Father Christmas, coming this Friday from Timothy Stone.

Here’s a preview of this wonderful article:

There, in that small Air Force chapel in Kuwait, we shut off the lights, took lit candles, and passed them around. In hushed tones, we began to sing “The First Noel.”

I remember looking around as I sang, looking at everyone’s faces faintly illuminated by the candles that we all held. So many different denominations, believers and lost alike, and countries of origin, were represented. Yet here we were, on Christmas Eve, thousands of miles from home, and we were all happy. Most people would wonder at that, that joy that we all seemed to feel that night, given where we were, but I know it was really what was in our hearts.

That is when I believe I saw Father Christmas — when I saw Santa Claus.

See also:

• Don’t Ditch Santa, parts 1 and 2, by Timothy Stone. Part 1: “Scripture and history prove pagans don’t own Santa. The early Church does.” Part 2: “St. Nicholas began as a Christian symbol. Let’s celebrate him, not shun him.”
• Rejection of Santa is Cause for Grief. Excerpts from S.L. Whitesell’s article “Why You Should Believe in Santa Claus Even If He Doesn’t Exist” at Christ and Pop Culture.
• Redeeming Santa Legends for Delighting in Grace, by yours truly. “At Christmas, when it comes to Santa and other issues, do reflexive ‘we’re to be different’ lines jump to our minds? We need to balance that half-truth with enjoyment of God’s good gifts — including celebrating holidays and feasting, which Scripture does support, for God’s glory.”

The forerunner of speculative fiction publishing.

According to some, Christian fiction authors are making headway in the general market. Granted, much of it appears to be focused on women’s literature—aka romance—and mystery, but it is happening to some degree.

The above linked article asks the question, “Does the mainstreaming of Christian fiction mean a watered-down faith element?”

Abingdon’s Hoort doesn’t expect either secular or CBA publishers to abandon their core readers, believing it to be a “both and” situation. “There will still be future releases for readers who want a clear Gospel message in their novels alongside books that are clean, fun, and inspiring but not overtly religious.”

This will do little, however, to calm the fears of those Evangelicals that such crossovers do mean a watering down of the faith—for those books. So many still expect a Christian author writing Christian fiction to have a clear Gospel message. Just look at the recent Christian films like “God is Not Dead.” No going for the subtle approach there.

Indeed, the article goes onto say that crossing over into the general market has become easier for Christian authors, in part because such traditional restrictions on Christian fiction have eased up.

Sarah Freese, an agent at Wordserve Literary . . . , “While there are still rules and expectations within the CBA [Christian Booksellers Association], more readers are open to Christian fiction that [doesn’t offer] ‘typical Evangelical’ answers.”

For some Evangelicals, that is code-speak for “it won’t have a strong gospel message.”

And you know, they are probably right in some, if not many cases. The question should be, is that a good or bad thing?

The article, when you boil it down, makes the case that this change is happening for two main reasons. One, the advent of self-publishing, especially in ebooks. Two, the faith-influence of Millennials as they become authors.

As the street-cred of indie authors has risen in the last few years as a viable option to publish and reach readers directly, the more it has stretched the expectations of traditional Christian publishing. Unchained from the Christian bookstore audience’s expectations, these authors are free to explore the Faith and its implications for life in ways previously deemed off-limits. As these authors and books successfully find readers, they force the CBA to take those readers into consideration as they decide on what their publishing schedule will look like into the future.

This includes small presses like Enclave Publishing, formerly Marcher Lord Press. Their success in publishing only Christian science fiction and fantasy titles has forced Christian publishers to rethink the viability of those genres, which have traditionally been weak sells in Christian bookstores. Enclave’s titles, at times, have stretched the expectations of what Christian fiction can do and be.

Meanwhile, current Christians readers, especially of the Evangelical stripe, are often unaware of the history of Christian fiction.

Many don’t know that prior to the 60s and 70s, there wasn’t a Christian fiction market. If you were a Christian and wrote a book involving Christian themes, your only option outside of self-publishing was to get published by a general market publisher. It is why authors like C.S. Lewis and J.R. Tolkien were not published by Christian publishers. There were few, if any, Christian publishers in those days publishing any kind of fiction save gospel tracts like Jack Chick’s—which just may be the forerunner of modern Christian speculative fiction publishing.

As the rise of baby booming Evangelicals influenced the rise of the Christian market, and thus the rise of Christian publishing, so too the influx of Christian Millennials into Christian publishing is bound to change the face of both what Christian fiction looks like and its goals.

These two combined create a synergistic dynamic that shifts Christian fiction back to a more general market style and drives the move toward more Christian authors crossing over into the general market. Incidentally, we’ve seen this same movement happen in Christian music.

Do you think this is a good direction? Why or why not?

Some years back Kix had a commercial saying their cereal wasn’t for rabbits. Rather, “Kix is for kids.” Fantasy, at least that produced by Christians, seems to have gone the way of Kix.

I can only imagine how disturbed J. R. R. Tolkien would be by this development. This was the Oxford scholar who wrote a treatise on the subject (“On Fairy-Stories”), in part arguing against relegating “fairy stories” to “for children only” piles.

Despite Tolkien’s reasoned and scholarly defense of the genre, we are in a time when Christian publishers apparently have determined there’s an audience for young adult speculative fiction—primarily fantasy—but not for adult books of like kind.

The culture at large doesn’t seem to accept this divide. Television programs like Grimm, Once Upon A Time, The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow, and more seem to target an adult audience. While movies like the Hunger Game series and Divergent do aim at the young adult audience, they aren’t the only speculative films coming out. Interstellar comes to mind as does Maleficent, The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies, and Into The Woods.

Are Christians, then, the only people who “outgrow” speculative stories, who don’t want to read fantasy or science fiction as adults? Or is this an incorrect perception publishers have reached?

Do Christian adults stay away from speculative literature because they view the genre as escapist? This was the going view Tolkien countered. His famous answer was that prisoners properly escape to return home in contrast with soldiers escaping their duties.

Could it be that speculative stories today do not provide a picture of home but an excuse to dodge responsibilities? How much better to watch Spiderman fling yet another bad-guy monster into a brick wall and watch it crumble on his head, than to wrestle with forsaking the things of this world and making the climb up Mount Doom bearing the One Ring.

Perhaps Christians as adult readers are not open to the changes fiction brings. Perhaps there’s an unconscious belief that new life in Christ has already brought change, and only young adults need to read stories akin to “coming of age.”

Perhaps Christian adults struggle with the theology of stories. There is truth, and there is falsehood, and stories must show the former and condemn the latter. Hence, Harry Potter is vile because Harry’s disobedience to school rules and even to his (abusive) foster parents is never condemned. Further, the stories are about witches and wizards and treat some of them as good.

Those stories are perhaps the closest thing to Tolkien-esqe as any contemporary fiction. First, author J. K. Rowling didn’t aim to write for children; her stories crossed age lines. They also addressed a very adult theme—death. So even though the contemporary book industry relegates them to middle grade/young adult lists, they defy limitation.

But to the point, those who may accept Harry Potter as crossover literature, applicable for adults, will not likely find spiritual correctness all the way through the stories.

So is the problem with the readers, the writers, or the publishers? Do Christians not want to read speculative literature as adults? Are Christians not writing speculative literature that appeals to adults? Or are publishers simply wrong and there are good books with hungry readers wanting the best books to get published and not knowing how to find the ones that are out? What are your thoughts?

Books are . . . portals, addictive, powerful, life, opportunities, worlds at your fingertips.
These are a few words used to answer the prompt recently posted on my Facebook page. But one of the most common words readers tend to gravitate to is this:

Books are an escape.

You know the spiel: “Leave reality behind!” “Escape into a new world!” Books are portals to temporary freedom from real life.

This is probably one of the most depressing book-quotes I’ve ever read. It’s already deciding that books will be more exciting than my own life. But God didn’t create us to have boring lives.

How many authors had “escapism” in mind when they wrote their books? I know I didn’t. Most authors hope to impress the readers with some sort of message. Maybe even hoping that message will change the reader’s life and actions.

When you read a book, do you use it to escape?

I used to. Only now do I realize that reading books is a waste of time if you don’t let them change you. If books really are “portals” then they should leave you somewhere you weren’t when you finish them. Somewhere enlightened.

If you know anything about my book, A Time to Die, you know I value the usage of time. I’ve re-evaluated everything I do that takes time, including the “hobby” of reading books. My conclusion is that I can’t excuse the hours I spend reading a fantasy book if they provide me only with escapism.

God put us on earth for a purpose. And “escapism” is when we avoid that purpose.

I’m not saying we can’t enjoy the portal-like magic behind a book, but we need to gain more from it than a simple eight hours of escape. Let that fantasy book inspire you to pursue a braver faith and epic life. Or learn how not to write from that time-travel flop. Or think about what you want to add to this nation’s future after finishing that dystopian trilogy.

Every book is written with a purpose. We, as readers, should read every book with our own purpose—to learn, to apply, to be inspired . . . and to grow in our faith.

So what do you think? Should we avoid reading for escapism?

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Nadine Brandes is an adventurer, fusing authentic faith with bold imagination. She writes stories about brave living, finding purpose, and other worlds soaked in imagination. Her debut dystopian novel, A Time to Die, released fall 2014 from Enclave Publishing. When Nadine’s not taste-testing a new chai or editing fantasy novels, she is out pursuing adventures. She currently lives in Idaho with her husband.

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