Santa Claus Is White

Santa
It is hard to believe, but the craziness around Christmas just got crazier.
A couple days ago, Megyn Kelly, a commentator for Fox News declared that Santa Claus is white. Her comments set off a rapid response from serious to comedic. But, if I take a step back from the craziness of it all, her comments made me stop and think. Apart from the debate about the history of Santa Claus, what does it mean if Santa is always white?

To tell you the truth, until this craziness erupted, I never thought about it.
I never thought about what that meant to me.
And, even more unsettling for me, I never thought about what it might mean to a person of color. Or, a child of color.
What does it mean…
If the great gift giver;
The person who knows if you have been naughty or nice;
Is a person you can NEVER look like or be?
Does it matter?
Until now, it never occurred to me to even ask the question.
And that is the unsettling part.

At some fundamental level I think it does matter.
At least for me.
Because in the largely white, largely Caucasian culture in which I live I need to remember that the world is much larger and much more diverse than the white world in which I live. Maybe it is me who needs to begin to imagine a black Santa or an Asian Santa or an Hispanic Santa as another small step towards seeing and understanding and appreciating the world as it really is.

As God intends it to be.

Paying Attention

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Each December, when our children were young, we would gather as a family around our dining room table and talk about what organizations we would like to support financially.  Our church always came first, but we also always set aside additional money to support causes and programs that were important to us.  One year, one of our sons had been studying whales in school and so wanted to give some money to a program that supported whales.  Together we decided on the amount.  I wrote the check.  He addressed the envelope, put on the stamp and put the check in the envelope to be mailed.  As they grew older, the causes they chose were most often the ones they were involved in.  A small organization in the heart of Appalachia with whom we worked each summer to repair homes.  A program that provided food, clothing and a touch of humanity to the homeless who lived in New York City.  The organization with whom they worked when they traveled to Central America to build homes.  That mid-December conversation became a family ritual with each of us having a voice and all of us making the decisions together.

My two sons are now grown.
Young men each making a difference in his own way.
But, the tradition continues.
This evening, after dinner, my wife and I sat down and had the conversation again. What causes or programs do we want to support? Which organizations are addressing the most pressing needs which we see in our community?
With the decision made, I was left the task of writing the checks. As I did I realized that I should be paying more attention to what I was doing. That with each check I wrote I should be more mindful of the work we were doing some small part to support.  The food pantry where more people will line up tomorrow so they have the food to survive and to feed their children.  The medical clinic which provides much needed medical services to the most vulnerable in our community.  The organization which is doing fabulous work with the immigrant population in our community, not only helping them find their way in this new country and culture, but challenging the rest of us to live up the ideals of our nation.

I realized as I was writing the checks what a privilege it was to do so.
And, that I needed to pay more attention to what I was doing.

An Advent Prayer

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In these Advent days, O God, may our hearts lead the way.
Because despite all the pressure to the contrary:
The tinsel;
The glitter;
The relentless message that the meaning of Christmas is about what we find in stores and not about our spirits, our hearts long for something more.
For something deeper.
For something much more real.
For that which we often can’t quite name, but somehow we know.

And, so we pray…
Turn us around, O God and point us in the right direction.
Turn us in the direction of the One who comes to be the Prince of Peace.
Turn us in the direction of a star that still might lead the way.
Turn us in the direction of unexpected angels who meet us on the street or in the store.
Turn us, we pray, in the direction of Christmas.