Santa is Such a Ham

I ran into Santa one Sunday afternoon at church.  He was in the choir room waiting to make an entrance at the community Christmas Song Sing Along.  His instructions were to pop up on the altar when the crowd was singing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”  Such a ham he is, Santa.  I know him.  He was itching to put on a big show.  Hit ‘em with the big smile and the booming Ho Ho Hos.

“Hi Santa. Long time no see.”

“Dave right?  Yeah it’s been a while.  I think I saw you last at the YMCA.  Boy that was a night.  Big line of kids there.”

“You look good Santa.  Little thinner maybe.”

“Yeah.  The mortals, they’re telling me losing the extra pounds will be better on my joints.  I just humor them.  I mean, I’m just a little shy of 1800 years old.  The knees have made it so far.  But it’s a little easier in the chimneys I have to admit.”

“How’s this year looking Santa?”

“Not bad.  I’m having a little difficulty with global warming.  I put retractable wheels on my sleigh, hidden behind the runners.  Lots less snow to land on.  You’d be surprised, even up North.  But really except for that, the routes don’t change all that much year to year.”

“Don't politics ever get in your way Santa?  Seems like here in the U.S. politics has made its way into everything we do.  Screws up the holiday meals, people arguing at the table, dreading to see each other because of how they know they vote.”

“No it doesn’t.  Know why?  Cause I concentrate on the kids.  Kids don’t judge you for what you think, what policies you support, what you believe.  They react to your smile.  They respond to kindness.  They pay attention to what you do and how you do it.  I do the same pretty much with adults.  It gets harder I admit.  But I’ve learned to get along with everybody.” 

Santa went on.  Get him talking sometimes and he’s hard to shut up.

“This is your church isn’t it Dave?"

“Yes it is.”

“How’s it doing?  Seems to me there’s been some changes around here.”

“How do you know that Santa?”

“Come on Dave.  Do you think I just keep track of naughty and nice?  Brothers being mean to sisters?  Not going to bed on time?  Sassing Mom and Dad?  I know stuff.  It’s my job.  You changed the name of the church, have new people attending, moved things around, offered new programs.  How are those changes working out?”

“They’re real satisfying.  We made a conscious decision to stop simply serving each other, I mean ourselves as members, and to turn our attention to the community.  Give them something they need.  We sponsor a weekly group for gay kids and their friends, or kids that aren’t sure where they fit in gender wise.  It’s been a big success.  Kids from all over the area come, sometimes upwards of twenty. 

Next we’re going to host a support group for parents of gay kids who need to know more, accept more, learn from each other, and develop understanding.  Probably monthly.  Turns out it’s an area where church can really help.”

“Sounds like you’ve put out the welcome mat.”

“Good way to put it Santa.  Extravagant welcome.  Extravagant acceptance.  Everybody’s welcome.  We even have open communion.  No strings participation.”

“Open table right?  Your new name?”

“Yeah.”

“Still doing that free lunch every second Sunday?”

“Yep.  Still doing it.  That’s what got us started stepping outside ourselves.”

“Good name then, Open Table.  Sums up what you’re doing pretty well.”

Santa checked out his beard in the mirror on the door where the pastor used to keep her robes.  Santa is pretty picky about his beard.

“So Santa the times don’t bother you?  You’re not worried about the future?”

“Not exactly.  I have a lot of times to compare these to.  It’s easy to forget how much the past sucked.”

“What were your favorite times?”

“I really liked the 1960’s.  It was crazy, which I’m sort of drawn to.  But besides that there was that open yearning for peace and love.  People said it.  Hippies lived it.  There was a belief it was possible.  It’s still alive now of course, in places like your church here, but the cynics and the pessimists drown it out.  Open belief in the possibility of peace and love is hard to come by.  But it never goes away.  That’s why I’m here actually.  I want to spread that joy.”

He looked through the doorway up into the sanctuary at the big stained glass triptych facing the park and got a kind of faraway look in his eye.

“By the way I really liked the 1560’s too.  Michelangelo was still working, Shakespeare was just born.  Europe was coming out of the dark ages.  Music, art, discovery and a belief in the goodness and beauty of mankind was flourishing.  God, it was a great time, the Renaissance.  If you weren’t a slave or a serf that is.  But really, you should have been there Dave.”

“Hey, one more thing about the church.  Did you land on the roof?  See anything new?”

“No.  Hell no.   No roof landings this trip.  Driving an open sleigh powered by reindeer around the world in one long 24 hour night is plenty for me.  For the pre-Christmas promotions I drive.  Take off the red velvet and blend in on the highways.  I love it.  Nothing like a good road trip.  In North America I keep a old used Buick available.  One of those big ones that still has that 3.8 liter 6 cylinder engine.  Best ride on the road.”

“Well, if you landed on the roof you would have seen we have all new shingles.  We had just enough tornado damage in February for the insurance company to replace all our roofs.”

“Yeah,  I knew about that Dave.  I’d say you were pretty lucky.  In fact, I may have had a hand in that.  I’ll have to check my notes.”

“Had a hand in it?”

“Well, there’s lots of ways give out gifts.  Know what I mean?”

Santa winked.

“Oops.  There’s my song.”

The piano was just starting the chords to “Santa Claus is coming to Town” when Santa stuck out his hand.  He had a firm handshake.  There’s something about being close to Santa that’s special. 

“Merry Christmas Dave.  Hope I see you again next year.  Maybe one of these days we can have a drink together.  You're a bourbon guy right?"

"Yeah.”

"Me too.  Well, gotta fly."

And then he was gone.  I watched him as he stood dead center at the front of the church.  Gave ‘em the big smile, spread his arms out like he was going to hug them, gave off with the big ho ho hos.  Thing is, it all seems so genuine.  It’s not an act for Santa.  That’s what makes him special.

He walked down among the pews, passing out candy canes, joking with the old ladies, patting the little kids on the head, working the crowd.  I hope I do see Santa again next year.  I’ll miss him when I’m gone.