St. Nick Sermon (Better late than never!)
by Robert Pavlovich
Can you tell me who this man is? (Slide of Nicholas of Myra)
How about this one? (Slide of Father Christmas)
Now, take your time, and no hints. Who is this man? (slide of Coca-Cola Santa)
These 3 men (Trio Slide) all have something in common. They have become representations of Christmas.
Symbols of Christmas.
But only one of them actually walked among us, talked among us, lived his life everyday among us and who is truly the model for the spirit of Christmas.
This one: (slide of Nicholas of Myra (facial reconstruction slide)
He is special because of how he lived his life. Nicholas of Myra seemingly gave without thought to his future. That rendering of him is actually a forensic scientists recreation of what he looked like based on measurements and x-rays of his remains.
The name Nicholas comes from the Greek meaning “Victory of the people. ” Born to wealthy parents during the 3rd century in the Greek village of Patara, now on the southern coast of Turkey, he was raised to be a devout Christian. His parents died in an epidemic while Nicholas was still young. His uncle, the Bishop of Patara, took over his upbringing and instructed Nicholas in the faith.
Now, when his parents died, Nicholas came into some money. But he remembered Jesus’ words: “. . . sell what you own and give the money to the poor.” Nicholas obeyed those words and gave his whole inheritance to assist the needy, the sick, and the suffering.
What sort of bravery did that take? What sort of faith commitment was at play to take that kind of leap? Nicholas had a plan. He hoped to become a monk—a life of solitude. But he was not to find it. One night, Jesus and Mother Mary appeared to Nicholas in a dream. Jesus gave him a copy of the Gospels. Mary placed the vestment of a bishop on him. Then, Jesus told him, rather than be a solitary monk, you must instead work among the people.
Nicholas is a young man—in his early 20’s. Searching. Not sure. But that doesn’t stop him from being elected bishop.
The committee trying to find a new Bishop of Myra could not agree on who it will be. An angel appeared to the presiding bishop in a dream and told him to watch the doors of the church the next morning. The first person to enter named “Nicholas” was to be the new bishop. And the next morning, while the committee was at prayer, a young man arrived. When asked his name, he replied, “I am Nicholas.” At that moment, Nicholas was placed in the bishop’s seat where he was consecrated the new Bishop of Myra.
So, how do we get from Nicholas, Bishop of Myra to America’s jolly Santa Claus? Well it has a lot to do with what Nicholas did with his life. Nicholas liked to help people. And he liked to do it very quietly, usually without anyone knowing who had helped them. Not just his giving away of his inheritance. There was his fight against the Romans in Constantinople for lower taxes for the people of Myra. He intervened often for the falsely accused; he cared for prisoners and criminals. Then there are the stories of his protection of children, sailors, and students.
In one, a wicked innkeeper killed three theological students, traveling to study in Athens. He hid their bodies in a pickling tub. Bishop Nicholas, traveling along the same route, stopped at the same inn, dreamed of the crime, prayed to God earnestly, and after confronting the innkeeper, he restored the three students to life.
Sailors claim Nicholas as a patron saint because of many stories. On one trip home from the Holy Land by ship, the vessel was wracked by wind and wave. Nicholas calmed the stormy seas with prayer. Another tells us of how his people were starving during a famine. Nicholas asked the sailors if he could take one measure of grain from each of their ships in his harbor. He promised that none would be missing when the ships arrived in Alexandria. When the ships got to Alexandria, there was more grain than originally counted, even after Nicholas took what he needed for his people.
He is the patron of children, mariners, bankers, scholars, orphans, laborers, travelers, merchants, judges, paupers, victims of judicial mistakes, captives, perfumers, even thieves and murderers! He is known as the friend and protector of all in trouble or need.
But it is his connection to marriageable maidens that brings us closer to Santa Claus. (Slide of stained glass)
See the three gold balls in the stained glass there?
There was a poor man with three daughters. In those days a young woman’s father had to offer prospective husbands a dowry—a cache of money, jewels, land. A good dowry meant that a young woman would find a good husband. Without a dowry, a woman was unlikely to marry. This poor man’s daughters would likely be sold into slavery. Mysteriously, on three different occasions, as each daughter’s turn came to marry, a bag of gold appeared in their home, found in their stockings or shoes left by the fire to dry, providing the needed dowry. It appears that the bag had been tossed through an open window.
Nicholas did this in secret for each daughter. But during his last toss through the window, for the third daughter, the father caught him. And despite Nicholas’ pleas to keep it quiet, the man proclaimed Nicholas’ generosity to all who would listen.
That’s where we get the custom of children hanging stockings or putting out shoes, eagerly awaiting gifts from Saint Nicholas. That is also why three gold balls, sometimes represented as oranges, are one of the symbols for St. Nicholas. St. Nicholas is a gift-giver. And if some of you have made the connections to pawn-brokers, that’s true, too, for better or worse. Pawnbrokers have the 3 balls hanging outside their establishments, hoping to make the connection.
Now, there’s one figure in between Nicholas and Santa Claus. You have to combine Saint Nicholas, famous for his generous gifts to the poor with the figure that embodied the Good Cheer of Christmas: Father Christmas.
(Slide)
Father Christmas dates back at least to the 17th century in Britain. Writer Ben Jonson, a friend of Shakespeare, described Father Christmas for the first time in his play Christmas, his Masque. Now, not a mask to conceal a face, but a Masque (QUE) like a big party and play for the King. Since then we find Fr. Christmas portrayed as a well-nourished bearded man dressed in a long, green, fur-lined robe.
Father Christmas’s spirit of good cheer was reflected in the ‘Spirit of Christmas Present’ in Charles Dickens’, A Christmas Carol. (Slide out and prep for DVD—Commercial Xmas)
But it’s in the last century since Dickens that, for many, the meaning of Christmas has become muddled at best. It has seemingly become “What’s in it for me?” The onslaught of “It’s Christmas time” was first Thanksgiving. Then it slowly crept back to Halloween. This year, Halloween and Christmas were side by side right after Labor Day in some stores.
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GIVING has been the theme over the past few weeks. Time. Energy. Money. A phone call, a visit, a word of encouragement. And we’ve been challenged to go beyond giving what we “have to spare” and to move toward parting with something we need.
In another life, I remember hearing about “Giving Until It Hurts.” I have to be honest—that one never motivated me. Why would I want to do something that hurt me. That goes against my upbringing. That goes against natural tendencies to avoid pain. I’ll give, but why does it have to hurt. (Right now in my head the Theresean nuns are giving me their little, “Tch, tch, tch” as they shake their heads and intone, “Aaaiiiiii, Mr Pavlovich, jour pain ees naw-ting compared to dee eh-suffering off Jesus on da cross.” Ai, Sister Gisella.)
Instead of pain or anything, take “what’s in it for you,” take yourself OUT of the equation of Giving.
Consider this: “Altruism” or “giving without thought of getting something back” is nearly impossible. If, for example, we give—money, stuff—and then take a tax deduction for donations, it isn’t altruism — it’s “cast your bread upon the waters — it shall return to you a thousand-fold.” You get something out of it.
Many people feel better about themselves after they Give or Help someone else. This may raise their self-esteem. But again, drat, we get something in return.
There’s the “Expectation” that Giving may bring. What I mean is when I do something for someone else, perhaps, at some future time, that person will, in return, help me. “What goes around comes around”, right? Nope, we might get something back.
Then there’s that little thing Sister Gisella was getting-at with me: Good Deeds improve my chances of a good afterlife. The very thing the Morality play EVERYMAN has at its central moral—that God is noting my acts. Ah, God, the Accountant Almighty. So, my Giving leads to a heavenly reward. Again, giving me something in return.
Nicholas put Jesus at the center of his life, his ministry, his entire existence. His focus was always outward, not a thought of or for himself. St. Nicholas, lover of the poor and patron saint of many, is a model of how we are meant to live.
Let’s make a New Years’ resolution early this year by trying something new—Giving or sharing of yourself, not because it will earn you “bonus miles” for your trip to heaven, not because it may “grease the skids” for your launch into the great beyond; not because the God of Bargains will have the ledger out when you stand before him.
What I’d like you to do is to consider giving or sharing—in all of its guises– because. . . .
Just Because.
Why do you have to get something out of it? How many great and wonderful deeds are done every day, and no one knows who is responsible for them? A lawn is cut, a fence repaired, groceries picked up, leaves raked, toys put away, room straightened, anything—without thought to recognition or recompense. No feelings of “I owe them” or “They owe me.” Or “I’ll feel better when I do this.” Or “I’ll get me some Grace!”
Giving or sharing “Just Because.”
We all know what Christmas has become. Over the past 50 years, Christmas has become big business. And it seems the more we pushed Jesus out of the picture, the louder the ads became. That emptiness does echo, doesn’t it.
We can all do something about Christmas. We can make it like “the old days” if we choose to do so. So, instead of lamenting the commercialism or the consumerism—because it’s there if we want to harp on it—let’s stop cursing the darkness and light a candle by doing what we can, how we can, when we can, to make the true message of Christmas—the life and example of Nicholas of Myra—shine now and everyday.
