The Real St. Nick

by Dr. Ralph F. Wilson

"A vast multitude was imprisoned in every place," wrote an eyewitness. "The prisons -- prepared for murders and robbers -- were filled with bishops, priests, and deacons ... so there was no longer room for those condemned of crimes."[1]

You'd hardly expect to find old St. Nick in jail. But St. Nicholas is more than a children's Christmas legend. He was flesh and blood, a prisoner for Christ, bishop of the Mediterranean city of Myra.

What do we know about the real St. Nicholas? He was born, ancient biographers tell us, to wealthy parents in the city of Patara about 270 A.D. He was still young when his mother and father died and left him a fortune.

As a teen-ager, Nicholas' humility was already evident. He had heard about a family destitute and starving. The father had no money for food, much less the dowry needed to marry off his three daughters. He was ready to send his oldest girl into the streets to earn a living as a prostitute.

Under the cover of night, Nicholas threw a bag of gold coins through the window of their humble dwelling. In the morning the father discovered the gold. How he rejoiced: his family was saved, his daughter's honor preserved, and a dowry for her marriage secured. Some time after, Nicholas secretly provided a dowry for the second daughter. Still later for the third.

But on the third occasion, the girls' father stood watching. As soon as the bag of gold thudded on the floor, he chased after the lad till he caught him. Nicholas was mortified to be discovered in this act of charity. He made the father promise not to tell anyone who had helped his family. Then Nicholas forsook his wealth to answer a call to the ministry.

At the nearby city of Myra a bishop supervised all the churches of the region. When the bishop died, the bishops and ministers from other cities and villages -- Nicholas among them -- gathered to choose a successor.

Nicholas was in the habit of rising very early and going to the church to pray. This morning an aged minister awaited him in the sanctuary. "Who are you, my son?" he asked.

"Nicholas the sinner," the young minister replied. "And I am your servant."

"Come with me," the old priest directed. Nicholas followed him to a room where the bishops had assembled. The elderly minister addressed the gathering. "I had a vision that the first one to enter the church in the morning should be the new bishop of Myra. Here is that man: Nicholas."

Indeed they did choose him as bishop. Nicholas was destined to lead his congregation through the worst tribulation in history.

In A.D. 303, the Roman Emperor Diocletian ordered a brutal persecution of all Christians. Those suspected of following the Lord were ordered to sacrifice to pagan gods. Nicholas and thousands of others refused.

Ministers, bishops, and lay people were dragged to prison. Savage tortures were unleashed on Christians all over the empire. Believers were fed to wild animals. Some were forced to fight gladiators for their lives while bloodthirsty crowds screamed for their death. Women suffered dehumanizing torment. Saints were beaten senseless, others set aflame while still alive.

Yet persecution couldn't stamp out Christianity. Rather it spread. Third Century leader Tertullian observed, "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church."

Those who survived Diocletian's torture chambers were called "saints" or "confessors" by the people, because they didn't forsake their confession that Jesus Christ is Lord. Nicholas was one of these.

Finally, after years of imprisonment, the iron doors swung open and Bishop Nicholas walked out, freed by decree of the new Emperor Constantine. As he entered his city once more, his people flocked about him. "Nicholas! Confessor!" they shouted. "Saint Nicholas has come home."

The bishop was beaten but not broken. He served Christ's people in Myra for another thirty years. Through the prayers of this tried and tested soldier of faith, many found salvation and healing. Nicholas participated in the famous Council of Nicea in 325 A.D. He died on December 6, about 343, a living legend, beloved by his whole city.

St. Nick of yuletide fame still carries faint reminders of this ancient man of God. The color of his outfit recollects the red of bishop's robes. "Making a list, checking it twice," probably recalls the old saint's lectures to children about good behavior. Gifts secretly brought on Christmas eve bring to mind his humble generosity to the three daughters.

Yet if he were alive today, this saint would humbly deflect attention from himself. No fur-trimmed hat and coat, no reindeer and sleigh or North Pole workshop. As he did in life centuries ago, Bishop Nicholas would point people to his Master.

"I am Nicholas, a sinner," the old saint would say. "Nicholas, servant of Christ Jesus."

[1] Eusebius, Church History, VIII, 6, 9.

NOTES: A great deal of legend has built up around St. Nicholas. The author has carefully selected which he deemed to be the most credible accounts based on those found in Life of Nicholas by tenth century biographer Symeon Logotheta the Metaphrast, quoted by Charles W. Jones in Saint Nicholas of Myra, Bari, and Manhattan: Biography of a Legend (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978).

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Joyful Heart Ministries, Dr. Ralph F. Wilson, Director
Copyright © 1985-2002 by Ralph F. Wilson <pastor joyfulheart.com>. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

America’s Own Theologian of Christmas

Dr. Clement C. Moore was the distinguished professor of Greek and Hebrew at General Theological Seminary in New York City.  America was less than 50 years old.  Moore's father, a famous Episcopal bishop, administered the first oath of office to President George Washington.  He also comforted Alexander Hamilton as he lay dying from a bullet wound inflicted by Aaron Burr.  Dr. C.C. Moore, however, would not be remembered for his father's meritorious accomplishments, nor for his own scholarly writings...and there were many.  His greatest legacy would be a short, rhyming composition penned in less than one hour on Christmas Eve, 1822.  Here is the amazing story:

Mrs. Moore had been packing Christmas baskets for poor families when she realized she was one turkey short!  "Clement," she asked in an urgent tone, "will you run down to the market for me?  I need a few more items."  With the snow falling briskly and the spirit of Christmas in the air, off he went.  Upon returning home, Moore met his Dutch caretaker, Jan Duychinck, a short stubby man with a bowed mouth, a big red nose, two perfectly placed dimples, and a pipe clenched between his teeth, causing the smoke to encircle his head.  The moon's bright light shone upon the blanket of newly fallen snow.  These two men, both possessing child-like hearts, talked about Christmas, particularly the Dutch customs.  The caretaker shared with Dr. Moore the fascinating story of Saint Nicholas.  He mentioned how Hollanders pulled a sleigh-driven statue of the saint along a parade route.  The children line the street anxiously awaiting its arrival.  Someone dressed in red and white, like the saint, walked alongside passing out gifts.  Dr. Moore could hardly wait to get into the house, grab his quill pen, and begin writing those familiar words:                  

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

When Moore began describing the old saint, he drew a word picture of his Dutch caretaker:

His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlfull of jelly.

From Dr. Clement C. Moore's poetic portrayal of Saint Nicholas, we get our present-day picture of Santa.

While a lot of myth surrounds jolly old Santa, he was a real person.  This godly Bishop of Myra learned the joy of giving in secret.  He was a Bible-believing soldier of the Cross who paid dearly for his convictions.  The Eastern church proclaimed him a "saint" in the late fifth century.  Upon his death, he went to be with the Savior he faithfully served.

Each Christmas morning when parents selflessly give presents to their children, the story of Saint Nicholas lives on!  When asked, "Mommy, who brought these gifts?", she gleefully responds, "It must have been St. Nick!"

What Should You Tell Your
Children/Grandchildren about Santa?

Every year, I tell my three sons this same story.  As toddlers they understood the story in very concrete terms.  (Small children cannot think abstractly or conceptually.)  With each passing Christmas season, they began understanding the story a little bit more.  One year, Andrew, my five-year old, asked, "Daddy, do reindeer fly?"  I responded, "Have you ever seen one fly?"  "No." "Neither have I.  That's just part of Dr. Moore's poem," I assured him.

On another occasion he asked, "How does Saint Nicholas come from heaven to bring us our gifts?"  "He doesn't," I said.  "Then who brings the gifts?"  "Oh, that's a secret," I whispered.  I reminded him that after Nicholas' death, the people of Myra assumed the practice of secret giving.  "It's the same today."  He was satisfied with the answer.

Eventually, all three children, by the ages of six or seven, were able to grasp the deeper meaning of the Saint Nicholas story.  At first, they understood the story in a child-like way...concretely.  The Apostle Paul wrote, "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child.  But when I became a man (mature), I put away childish things" (1 Cor. 13:11).  Similarly, there came a day when my children were able to comprehend the meaning behind the symbols.  The symbols are not important, but the truths they represent.

I was able to help my children understand the principle of secret giving without ever telling them a lie.  I simply told them the true story of Saint Nicholas each year, honestly, but wisely, answering their questions. They were able to make a transition from the concrete to the conceptual without difficulty.

In the years ahead, I am sure my boys will continue the tradition of telling the story of St. Nick to their kids.  Today's youths are tomorrow's adults.  As each generation advances into adulthood, it  becomes the custodian of Christmas.  Let's give our children healthy traditions they can pass on to their children and grandchildren.

The Season of Advent

Advent is the season of the church year that precedes the celebration of Jesus' birth. It consists of four Sundays, beginning on the Sunday that is always closest to November 30. Advent marks the beginning of the church year.

The word "Advent" comes from the Latin, meaning "coming." Traditionally, that meaning has been applied in three ways. First, we remember Christ's first coming at Bethlehem. In this sense, Advent is an important time to prepare for the Christmas celebration. Second, we remember Christ's continual coming to us through Word and Sacrament. Finally, we look forward to our Lord's final coming on the Last Day.

Advent begins the church year because the church year begins where Jesus' earthly life began--in the Old Testament prophecies of his incarnation. After Advent comes Christmas, which is about his birth; then Epiphany, about his miracles and ministry; then Lent, about his Calvary-bound mission; then Easter, about his resurrection and the sending of the apostles; and then Ascension (40 days after Easter) and Pentecost, with the sending of the Holy Spirit.

The first half of the church year (approximately December through June) highlights the *life* of Christ. The second half (approximately June through November) highlights the *teachings* of Christ. The parables and miracles play a big part here. That's "the church year in a nutshell," and it should help reveal how Advent fits into "the big picture."

Advent specifically focuses on Christ's "coming," but Christ's coming manifests itself among us in three ways--past, present, and future. The readings which highlight Christ's coming in the past focus on the Old Testament prophecies of his incarnation at Bethlehem. The readings which highlight Christ's coming in the future focus on his "second coming" on the Last Day at the end of time. And the readings which highlight Christ's coming in the present focus on his ministry among us through Word and Sacrament today.

The traditional use of Advent candles originated in eastern Germany even prior to the Reformation. As this tradition came down to us by the beginning of this century, it involved three purple candles and one pink candle. The purple candles matched the purple paraments on the altar (purple for the royalty of the coming King). The pink candle was the third candle to be lit (not the fourth) on Gaudate Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent. "Gaudate" means "Rejoice!" in Latin, and is the first word of the traditional Introit for that day (TLH, p. 54) which is taken from Philippians 4:4.

("Rejoice! . . . the Lord is near"). Hence a "pink" candle was used to signify "rejoicing." Some also included a white "Christ candle" in the middle to be lit during the 12 days of Christmas (December 25-January 5).

The concept of giving each candle a name, i.e., Prophecy, Bethlehem, Shepherd and Angel, etc., is a relatively novel phenomenon and probably originates with certain entrepreneurial publishers seeking to sell Advent candles and devotional booklets.

In a society in which Christmas is so heavily commercialized, the season of Advent is important for the Christian Church. With so many other worldly interests competing for our attention, the themes of Advent, which focus on our need for a Savior, are all the more important. The following hymn stanzas by 17th-century hymn writer Paul Gerhardt are a good example of this emphasis:

O Lord, how shall I meet You, How welcome You aright?

Your people long to greet You, My hope, my heart's delight!

Oh, kindle, Lord most holy, Your lamp within my breast

To do in spirit lowly All that may please You best.

Rejoice, then, You sad-hearted,

Who sit in deepest gloom, Who mourn your joys departed

And tremble at your doom. Despair not;

He is near you; There, standing at the door,

Who best can help and cheer you And bids you weep no more.

(Lutheran Worship, #19; The Lutheran Hymnal, #58)