So on the eve of this December paid day off, I've taken some time to remember my childhood a bit. This post is really going to be extra cynical. But that's how I kinda feel about the whole Santa theology.....
Cynical.
I don't really remember a time that I ever truly believed in Santa. I wanted to believe in him. I tried to fool my mind into thinking he was real. I even made up stories to tell my younger sisters about catching glimpses of him walking through our house on X-mas eve. But I never believed in him. I don't know if I was just born a skeptic, or if I just had trust issues. But he never really seemed real to me.
My mom talked about Santa ALL the time during December (even more than Jesus)! One year my dad walked around on the roof, X-mas eve to make it sound like reindeer were landing. But early on I figured out they only used Santa as a way to send us to bed early. "Santa's almost here! He won't come until you're fast asleep!" They even used it randomly throughout the year... "Uh oh, remember Santa's watching you!"
All the grown ups I had contact with as a child would always talk about Santa with this patronizing Cheshire Cat grin on their faces. "I know something you don't know," was written all over them. And the only thing going through my mind was "Why are they lying to me? Do they think I'm stupid?"
It irritated me. It confused me. And it kinda pissed me off. But being the peacemaking good boy I was... I just played along. I played their game because it seemed to amuse everyone. They felt so special when I would leave cookies out and act excited when they were eaten the next morning. I chose to believe in Santa because I saw how happy it made my mom.
Years later, we moved to Utah. I'll go into THAT escapade another day, but essentially I felt left out being the only non-mormon in the hood. So I took a swim in the font, they gave me a Book of Mormon, and taught me all about Jesus....
...Then I had a major Deja Vu attack.
Santa sees you when you're sleeping.
With Jesus, you are never alone.
Santa kept a list of all the nice and naughty boys and girls. The nice ones got presents. The naughty got a lump of coal.
Jesus kept a book of all the righteous and wicked. The righteous got to go to heaven. The wicked went to the "lower" kingdoms.
It went on and on... and all I could think was "Do they think it will work THIS time?" Be good because God is watching. He's coming soon, better be good! Remember Jesus is watching you. It was the saaaaaame shit. Why would I believe the grown ups who lie to their kids about Santa? Why is Jesus any different?
But I saw how happy it made everyone when I testified that I KNEW Jesus was real. I saw how I could make up a story about some imaginary experience I had with Jesus and it would make the grown ups cry. They would come up to me after Testimony meeting and tell me how much they felt the spirit, and how much my story meant to them.
"Is that all I gotta do to stay on the grown up's good side?" I thought... "Hell, I can do this shit all day LONG!" So I chose to believe. I chose to believe because it made the grown ups feel like they were doing something good with their lives. It made them feel special. It made them happy.
The difference from my childhood days was that I played their game so well... that I actually started to believe it MYSELF this time. And it took me a loooooong time before I came to my senses and remembered.....
They lied.
Merry X-mas Bitches!
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