Author's note: This is my entry for Postuhenin's Santa's Not-so-Little Helpers Contest. I chose Father Christmas from medieval England as my subject.
In college I took an elective course on religion. One of the assignments was to find a website for a highly obscure religious sect and prepare a presentation on it. I don’t remember how, but I found a site for a sect that literally worshipped Santa Clause. The following is what I can remember from their FAQ page:
Q: What is Santaism?
A: We use the term Santaism to refer to our religious practice of venerating the Gift Bringer, the entity who is most commonly known as Santa Claus today.
Q: Is this a joke?
A: No, but we understand why you would think so. We hope you will be convinced of our sincerity by the end of this page.
Q: Does Santaism have anything to do with Satanism?
A: Besides the obvious play on words, not really. We do have many of the same objections to Christianity and the other Abrahamic faiths as Satanists, but we don’t share the Satanist’s blind disdain for Christians, and we recognize the great good that has come from these religions as well.
Q: So…you guys really worship Santa Claus?
A: Worship is a relative term. We venerate the Gift Bringer, who goes by many names including Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, Kris Kringle, and Father Christmas.
Q: Didn’t you ever learn that Santa Claus isn’t real?
A: We are aware that our Christmas presents when we were children came from our parents and not a man climbing down a chimney. Likewise we know mall Santas are actors.
We believe Santa Claus is a manifestation (the academic term is “aspect”) of the Gift Bringer spirit. This spirit lives through our mundane holiday rituals, including when we give presents to our children. Engaging in Christmas celebratory traditions is in fact a form of worship of the Gift Bringer, whether one is conscious of it or not. Our collective experience of “Christmas” and adjacent holidays is what animates the Gift Bringer to life.
Q: Do you have any direct evidence of this?
A: Yes, but we don’t expect it to elicit anything but mockery from the uninitiated. Therefore we require that you begin steps to join us before learning more.
Q: How can I join you?
A: We don’t make that public due to the likelihood that it would result in our movement being hijacked by pranksters and highly unstable individuals. You’ll just have to work to seek us out if you want formal membership. That said, there are numerous ways you can honor and venerate the Gift Bringer, by yourself or with a group, which can be found on this site or which you can invent on your own.
Q: Is Santaism a religion?
A: That depends on your definition of religion. It is certainly at least a faith practice. However, many of the things people typically associate with religion, such as dogmatic laws or a highly organized clergy, are absent from Santaism. Our highest law is to celebrate what we consider the highest virtues: generosity and merriment.
Q: What do Santaists believe about creation, the end times, the afterlife, cosmology, etc.?
A: Refer to the question and answer above. Santaism has no standard views on these things, although individual practitioners are free to have their own theories.
Q: Can Santaism be practiced alongside other religions?
A: You can be a Santaist while being a member of any other religious group that will allow you in. We don’t claim exclusive theological orthodoxy.
I laughed, of course. I was in an edgy phase where I deemed all religions to be worthy of mockery. The fact that this one, assuming it was real, presented itself as a highly tolerant religion didn’t do much to stop me from scoffing. Still, their claimed values at least were admirable. My parents were deeply religious and I still respected them so maybe I was being a bit of a hypocrite. But I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t a trolling operation. It met the requirements of the assignment though and that’s all that mattered to me.
I got an A on the assignment, my classmates got the most humor from it out of all the presentations, and that’s the last I really thought of it for a couple years. Then I went to graduate school and it became relevant for another course. I wasn’t able to find the website again or any archives of it. But I found information about what may have been the same movement on a web page about new religious movements of the 19th century. Apparently during the Victorian era in England there was a movement to revive the traditional Father Christmas and preserve him against being completely merged with the American Santa Clause, as was happening. A group of Anglican clergy actually began venerating Father Christmas, understood since the Middle Ages to be fictional, as a saint, before being defrocked. They then opened their own church dedicated to the figure, who was becoming a deity. From there the movement expanded to include veneration or worship of Saint Nicholas as the Gift Bringer (rather than as a church saint), Weihnachtsmann, Ded Moroz, and of course Santa Clause. In Germany the movement went from a mostly symbolic cultural practice to a more literal worship of the Gift Bringer when the Christ Childa and the Theotokos were added to the pantheon. Later on neo-pagans who celebrated Yule and worshipped Old Man Winter merged with the loosely organized Church of the Gift Bringer, further pushing the religion toward mysticism.
For context, the project I was working on involved researching a wide range of strange religions, so it’s not like I was hyperfixating on just these Santa worshippers. But I did find this religion to be one of the most interesting, especially now that it seemed indeed to be a real faith. I tried emailing the site admin for his sources but never got a response (the site hadn’t been updated since 2002.)
However, a few weeks later, in early December, I got a letter out of the blue. It had no return address and was written on plain parchment. The letter was an invitation to a Christmas party and “worship service in honor of Father Christmas” at a church in a very rural area. It didn’t give me an address but rather directions from the nearest town. I was supposed to drive until I saw a narrow dirt road marked by a single wooden candy cane. If I reached the next town, I had gone too far. I looked around the area on Google Earth but couldn’t find any obvious locations.
The invitation addressed me by name. I found it in my decorative Christmas stocking. I had never given my personal information out to anyone online, nor had I told people I knew about my inquiries into the gift bringer religion. The letter was unsigned and simply ended with “don’t forget to bring a gift!”
I’d have to be crazy to go. But I guess I was, because I went.
Driving through the town, I saw they were really into the holiday spirit. It was one of those places that decorate their main street like a Victorian Christmas cookie tin. There were lit trees; holly, evergreen and tinsel garlands overhanging the street; and a prominent manger scene in front of the city hall.
I almost missed the candy cane. The side road took me to a brick church building, one that looked too big for the area. I parked next to other cars in a field. I knocked on the twin red doors but no one answered. I pulled open one door and slipped inside.
I found myself in what I guess you would call the narthex. There was a set of stained glass windows showing scenes from Dickens’s A Christmas Carol. Overhanging what looked like the entrance to the sanctuary was a painting of Father Christmas. It was the pre-Victorian version of him, distinct from Santa Claus with whom he is now more or less considered synonymous. He sported a green robe, a wreath of candles on his head, and a brown beard. He was hauling what looked like a large evergreen branch on his back.
“Can I help you?” I heard someone say. I turned around and saw a man who looked like an usher. I awkwardly explained that I had been invited here, but I didn’t say how. He didn’t question it, instead asking me to join them in the sanctuary.
The sanctuary had more stained glass images of Father Christmas, as well as some of Santa Claus and Saint Nicholas. One window had the former dancing in the woods with fairies. The chancel was decorated with holly, mistletoe, and poinsettias. There was a wooden altar engraved with a scene of the Nativity. On it was a statuette that I think was supposed to be Judah Maccabee. There were over a hundred people in the sanctuary, far more than I had expected. In the backs of the pews they had carol books. Flipping through one, I saw that it included a “Christmas catechism” on the meaning of the holiday. It was not the orthodox Christian understanding.
The service began with a procession of men and women wearing green habits, while a choir sang the carol “Good Day, Sir Christemas!” Their leader wore a red mitre with gold trim. He introduced himself as the “patriarch” of the “Anglican rite” of the gift bringer religion. He gave what I guess you could call the sermon, but it was really more of a continuing informal discourse over the span of the service. I’ve cobbled together a rough transcript here.
Hello friends, and welcome to our visitors. If you don’t know, I am the patriarch of the Anglican Rite of the Church of the Gift Bringer. We choose to order our worship primarily around the veneration of the English Father Christmas. As we continue our service, you may notice some traditions that are more associated with other gift bringers such as Santa Claus, but this is no problem. We are cosmopolitan in our approach to the season.
Prior to the Victorian Era and the gradual merging in popular culture of Father Christmas with the American Santa Claus, Father Christmas was not really associated with bringing presents in a direct sense. He was the embodiment of Christmas itself, and Christmas was always associated with the exchanging of gifts, but you wouldn’t find images or tales of him coming with a sack of toys or anything like that. Of all the different incarnations of the Gift Bringer, the original Father Christmas is probably the one least associated with bringing gifts.
How, then, does he fit into our sacred mythology, apart from his contemporary association with Santa Claus? The answer is that he brings us gifts of a different kind. He brings the Christmas cheer, the warmth and joy, and if he needs to bear physical gifts to qualify for our pantheon, the alcohol. In modern terms, he brings the party. And in so doing he infuses us with the spirit of gift-giving and generosity.
There is some debate in our circles as to who the original European Gift Bringer figure is - not counting the pre-Christian winter gods and spirits that some of us also consider aspects of the Gift Bringer. Saint Nicholas was venerated by Christians since before Pope Gregory the Great, but it wasn’t until the Middle Ages that he really emerged as Saint Nicholas the Gift Bringer. Father Christmas is first recorded in the Middle Ages as well, but there’s no direct evidence that he was based on Saint Nicholas. Overall, Saint Nicolas was a popular Christmas and Advent figure, but not the very personification of Christmas the way Father Christmas was. That is why our rite treats Father Christmas as the primary manifestation of the Gift Bringer, although this is merely a liturgical preference and not a dogma.
The Gift Bringer can be worshipped by anyone, in all manner of ways. However, we emphasize corporate worship due to the axiom that he comes where belief is strongest. We invite Father Christmas to dwell among us by singing the carol of invocation and consecrating these gifts on the altar.
The world continues to be bitterly divided over religion and culture. The observation of Christmas festivities, along with proximate holidays such as Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, constitutes one of the few threads of unity of the human race. Let us then pray to Father Christmas to give the world the kind of unity of spirit he gave the medieval English people.
They had a sort of communion service where they put offerings for Father Christmas on the altar. These included milk and cookies, various kinds of alcohol, and a vintage bottle of Coca Cola. They had a lector read "The Night Before Christmas" while servers brought us eggnog and malted wine to drink (with non-alcoholic choices for each). After this segment the patriarch gave a prayer, then burned congregants’ individual petitions to the Gift Bringer in a fireplace behind the altar that I hadn’t previously noticed.
When the service was finished, we were invited to a reception in the dining hall. The patriarch invited me to sit at his table. He was friendly, but not willing to share much about the structure of the church outside this congregation. He did tell me that they performed a lot of charity work around Christmas time. He also claimed the American rite of the church had a monastic cloister that dressed like elves and made toys for children by hand. I learned that the Anglican Rite had multiple congregations around the world when he explained that this event was held on a different day at each one so he could preside at all of them, from Advent through the Epiphany season.
After dinner, they had both a Secret Santa and white elephant gift exchange, as well as a giving tree. For the Secret Santa exchange I gave the gift I had brought, a case of lagers, and received a set of utensils. During the party I explored the building and found a small library. Most of the books were about Christmas lore. Among these was a wrinkled pamphlet called The Gift Bringer’s Judgement. It was about Santaist eschatology. The Gift Bringer, accompanied by Krampus, was going to come to destroy the world when it was completely overcome with avarice, and replace it with his icy realm. Rather than any of the traditional manifestations of the Gift Bringer, he was illustrated in this publication as the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. It was extremely off-putting in contrast with the genuinely wholesome experience I was having with these people. There was no copyright date, but the paper was yellowed with time. Maybe this was an aspect of the religion that had been quietly dropped over the decades, like the unsavory teachings of so many other faiths. I stuffed the pamphlet into my pocket as I went to rejoin the reception. I ended up leaving early.
The next year everything fell apart for me. I had a very bad breakup, a falling out with my parents, and a nervous breakdown that forced me to withdraw from all my classes. I began drinking heavily. It was during this dark night of the soul that I did something that would have been beyond absurd to me just a few months ago: I prayed very earnestly to the Gift Bringer. I made a small shrine to Father Christmas by putting a green tablecloth and a Father Christmas doll I bought off Amazon on a small table, along with various spirits. I sang, as best I could, the lyrics of “Good Day, Sir Christemas!” I wrote down my prayer that he would give me his unique joy and burned the paper in my fireplace.
I felt deeply, agonizingly silly about it for days afterward. Then a week before Christmas I found another letter, in my stocking like before. This one invited me to a Christmas party deep in the mountains of Pennsylvania. “You are cordially invited to partake in Father Christmas’s realm,” the letter began. It ended with the same exhortation to bring a gift.
Once again the directions were a treasure hunt. This time I would have to spend a leg of the journey on foot. A wooden candy cane would mark the beginning of the mountain trail. It was approaching midnight when I finally found it. I thought the party must be over by now, but the letter didn’t give an end time and I was now almost maniacally obsessed with this. With my high-end LED flashlight in one hand and my gift in the other, I began hiking up the trail.
I came upon the location, a wooden cottage, more quickly than I thought I would. Nestled in a clearing barely spacious enough for it, it was decked in Christmas lights. There was light in the windows and I heard voices from inside. I knocked on the door and was greeted by a young man with a beard. “Merry Christmas!” he bellowed in what sounded almost like a Scottish accent, but not quite. Maybe Ulster? “You must be Joshua.” I nodded and stammered an apology for being late. “Oh not at all! Though I’m afraid you’ve missed everyone else, but not to worry, you can catch up with them very soon. Do come in!”
There was a living room with a Christmas tree and other decorations, and a crackling fireplace with snow globes on its mantle. The adjacent dining room had candles on the table. Somewhere a radio or record player was playing vintage holiday music.
The man was wearing a green robe and a holly wreath on his head. As soon as the nascent thought came into my head he spoke again.
“Oh don’t act so surprised dear boy. The letter said it was an invitation to partake in my realm.”
I looked around the room again. “So this is your realm?”
The man gave out a hearty laugh. “Oh goodness no! My realm is an eternal feast. This is more of a… waiting room, I suppose you could say. All the other guests are in my realm proper now. Would you like to join them?”
I gave an unsure nod.
“Fantastic! First, a small test of generosity.”
He reached into his robe and produced a dagger and a silver goblet. A group of glowing yellow orbs emerged from the fireplace and made a circle at my feet.
“Bleed into the cup until it is full, then let my helpers have their fill. After that, there is one more hurdle and you’ll be able to join my saints at the feast.”
I didn’t want to do that.
I shook my head and said “sorry.”
Father Christmas looked slightly disappointed for a moment, but not offended. “I quite understand. It’s not for everyone. Perhaps another time then, or mayhaps we will meet again when you die. You seem generous enough. Farewell, and have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!”
Like waking up from anesthesia, I was suddenly out in the clearing again. The cabin was gone. There was a gap in the snow where it had been. I was still holding my gift, a collection of vintage Christmas-themed playing cards.
I reconciled with my parents, and haven’t missed a Christmas with them since.
Written by HopelessNightOwl
Content is available under CC BY-SA