Santa Claus. “The big, fat man with the long, white beard,” sings Michael Buble. You know, the jolly fellow that everyone makes sure gets their wishes.
He does seem like a nice fellow. A grandfatherly-type with a big smile. Who wouldn’t want to stand in a line to see him? In fact, we do stand in line! Some very . . . long . . . lines. No waiting is too long.
Yet, when we look a little closer, something’s not quite right. Santa’s gifts are based on performance. What does he always ask the children?
“Were you a good little boy this year?”
“Yes, Santa, I was.”
“Very good! What would you like to have for Christmas?”
What happens, then, when they aren’t “good?” No gifts. Just some coal to put in the fire to keep them warm. Or at least, that’s the legend.
You have to earn Santa’s admiration before he will give you something. You can’t just be.
What if there was another line? Not one for a jolly old man who will only give you something if you “deserve” it, but one for a person who doesn’t care so much about how good you are.
He cares about you. He knows that no matter how hard we try to do the right thing, it always seems to fall short. And there’s always a bit of disappointment.
Would he give us a gift? Yes. He would give us a gift that would not only be eternal life, but it would also free us from our own worst enemy: ourselves.
And there would be lots of love in the process. Lots of hugs and kisses and reassurances that we don’t need to do anything to earn his approval.
Would you stand in a very . . . long . . . line to sit on his lap?
I know I would.
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