
This week, I somehow found myself watching a 2024 movie called “Red One.” It cast Santa Claus as—guess what?—a super-hero, with Dwayne Johnson, The Rock, as his bodyguard. I felt actual pangs watching, wondering why, at this time of year, the world settles for a hero that is so clearly a cheap imitation of Jesus Christ. Christ is the One the who really does see all of your behavior, correctly judging if it has been naughty or nice, is omni-present on Christmas eve, and truly, truly wishes to fill your life with good gifts.
The original St. Nicholas of Myra would be greatly grieved at what his memory has mutated into, especially I think as this weight-lifting North Polean with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men. His constant real-life focus on Christ would likely fill the 4th century bishop, were he to watch this movie, with a deep disgust. Oh, St. Nicholas was a hero all right. But he patterned his heroism after Christ. He did very different things from driving reindeer and shrinking himself down chimneys.
Old St. Nick’s charity always affirmed life as God made it. He was a gender enthusiast, meaning he strove to help people form intergendered relationships in marriage. Consider this rare portrayal by Italian painter, Ambroglio Lorenzetti, a part of the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art’s exhibition on Sienna I highlighted a few weeks ago:

In his passionate picture, Lorenzetti cleverly portrays a typical act of Nicholas. Pictured inside the house are three virgins, languishing on their mat. Why are they so sad? Because they have no hope of marriage. Now, there is nothing wrong with refraining from marriage if that is your calling. Nicholas himself was celibate. But these girls truly want to find a husband, a good desire, to raise a family, to do the things of life. Yet they lack the gifts in that culture, including the dowry, to make them marriageable. Nicholas has appeared on the left side of the painting, outside the house, surreptitiously slipping three bars of gold through the upper window, clearly meant for the girls. With these in hand, they will surely be able to marry.
He gave gifts to make for life. It was not toys but truly life-changing charity that this saint sought to supply.
And he did.
How about we honor the real St. Nicholas this Christmas, by lifting up Christ and giving gifts that celebrate life?
Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, Sam.
Thank you, Ted!
He came for us.