Monday Morning Music Ministry

12-10-18

Throughout my childhood, my maternal grandfather whom we called “Little Grandpa” called me to his side every Christmas. He was a man of rituals – stories and jokes at every turn (unfortunately only about six or eight of each, but I indulged the old-fashioned charm); tales of Old New York, which planted my own interest in such lore; playing sentimental ballads and show tunes on the piano from hundreds of old colorful songsheets he preserved.

The Christmas ritual occasioned my mother and grandmother to cry, “Oh, Daddy, not that again!” But I loved it, despite practically having memorized his lesson from annual rites, because I loved him, and I did love the message. Redolent of an earlier time, and rich in poetic truth, was what he read to me from a tattered old newspaper clipping, “Is There a Santa Claus?”

Known through the years by its line “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” it was first printed in the old New York Sun in 1897 as a response to a Letter to the Editor from an eight-year old girl, Virginia O’Hanlon.

As Little Grandpa would explain to me after reading the fragile clipping, children naturally wondered whether Santa Claus is real, the same way they sometimes wonder about sprites and goblins and angels and (when I was really young) the tooth fairy. But, he explained, everything that we think about Christmas and Santa is really supposed to remind us of Christmas and Jesus.

Today, more than ever, Christmas widely is under attack (including, this year, a school banning candy canes because, upside-down, they look like the letter J, which “obviously” stands for Jesus; and therefore must be forbidden). Many Christians find themselves in the position of fighting back, oddly defending the colors red and green, and pine trees, and cartoons of fat Santa as… symbols of Christianity.

They are not symbols of anything other than candy factories and Hallmark cards. But they can be reminders. Let us be open to reminding ourselves, and each other, to remember the Incarnation, God-with-us, the Messiah, and why Christ was sent to earth.

In that spirit, I will slightly edit and revise the warm and familiar words of that newspaper editorial written by Francis Pharcellus Church back in 1897, responding to the query from Virginia O’Hanlon of 115 W 95th Street in Manhattan, “I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Jesus…. Please tell me the truth, is there a Jesus?” (Remember, I am editing and revising in the spirit of the Story behind the story):

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be adults’ or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, we are as mere insects, ants, in our intellect as compared with the boundless world about us, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

No Jesus? Thank God, He lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, He will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

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This familiar hymn’s tune reportedly was written by King Henry VIII, but to secular words, “Greensleeves.” Its Christmas message was appended in 1865 by the American William Chatterton Dix. Here it is performed by Rita Ora and the Kosovo Philharmonic Orchestra in the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls, Rome, Italy, where I often have visited, and wrote about recently here.

Click: What Child Is This?