My children do not believe in Santa Claus. To some, this is an obvious move. To others, this is a shock. What’s the deal? Am I some sort of anti-holiday Scrooge? Am I some sort of overzealous fundamentalist? Why in the world would I not have my little ones believe in Santa?
I am probably asked every year about what our family has decided to do about Santa at Christmas time. And, every year, I share a version of this post to try to explain the process that my wife and I went through in deciding our answer to the big question: To Santa or not to Santa.
Since you know the answer already, let me very briefly tell you the reasoning that made the no Santa policy in my home. Then, I will share with you a bit of how we deal with Santa.
Christmas is a holiday that has been highly over-commercialized in the US for years. People focus on winter, on trees, on lights, on gifts, and not on Jesus. And you know what, none of those are the reasons why my family did not tell my children that Santa was real.
Here is my bottom line reasoning: If I tell my children to believe in a figure that they cannot see, that he watches them from afar, that he judges their motives and actions, that he has supernatural powers, and that he will visit them with gifts every Christmas, they will eventually find out that I have intentionally told them to believe in something that is not true. This fact will not do much for my credibility in telling them true things about God, who is invisible to them, who watches over them though they cannot sense it, who judges their thoughts and actions, and who will bless them with eternal blessings if they will follow Christ. So, simply put, my wife and I have determined that we will never tell our children that something is true when it is not, because it is far too important that they be able to believe us when we tell them some things are true that they cannot see.
How do we deal with Santa and Santa stuff? It’s quite simple. Ever since Abigail was tiny, we have worked to distinguish the difference between true stories and pretend ones. In our house, if a story begins with “A long time ago…,” it is a true story. If a story begins with, “Once upon a time…,” it is a pretend story. The kids have done surprisingly well making those distinctions. They can still enjoy the stories that they know are not real just as any children can.
Since my children have no trouble enjoying that which they know not to be real, my wife and I do not get all crabby when a family member wraps a Christmas gift and puts “From: Santa” on the label. We do not find ourselves upset when they want a musical Rudolph toy from Wal-Mart (well, no more upset than we are when they want any noise-making toy). We do not get bent out of shape when a Santa ornament makes its way onto a tree near us. We don’t even mind taking snapshots of them sitting on the knee of a portly, bearded guy in a red, fuzzy suit once a year.
I think that you can tell from what I’ve already written, but just in case it is not clear, Mitzi and I do not look at our decision about Santa as the only possible one. This is a matter of conscience and preference. There is not Scripture that states, “Thou shalt not ho, ho, ho.” I grew up believing in Santa, and it really didn’t harm my worldview that much (so far as I can tell). But, for me and my house, we have simply made a decision that we want our children to know that Mommy and Daddy will always tell them the truth, and that trumps our desires to have beaming little people listening for sleigh bells on Christmas Eve.
Oh, and in case you are wondering, we also try our best to keep our children from being the ones who spoil it for others. Abigail and Josiah have both been told in no uncertain terms that they are not to make it their mission to correct the Santaology of other children. They have answered truthfully when asked by other little ones, but they, to my knowledge, have never tried to be anti-Santa evangelists. So far, so good. We’ll have to see how Owen handles it when he is old enough to play the spoiler role.
Hear my heart as I wrap up this post. I am not here attempting to change any family’s plans for how to handle Christmas. Nor am I asking any person not to do Santa things with my little ones. Nor am I suggesting that, if you have just watched a Claymation special with your kids that you have ruined their spiritual chances for the future. So, please, no cranky comments defending your traditions. Santa stuff is a lot of fun. I love fun stories and the joy of imagination. (We even watch Harry Potter every year around the Christmas season simply because the music feels Christmassy to us; so obviously we are not the strict, non-fiction parents that you might be imagining.) But, since many ask, here is the answer: we have made a choice to be able to tell our children that, when mom and dad say something is real, we fully believe it to be real.
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