by John Gotheborg
It was a cold and snowy night in Bethlehem when Jesus anointed Santa Claus as the Vicar of Christ. Paul (formerly known as Saul), an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, had gathered all the saints who were faithful in Him. They came from all around the world. There were Korean wise men in attendance, Saint Nicholas from the North Pole, and even a delegate representing the noble Native Americans. It was to be the biggest birthday party ever.
Of course, Jesus was a busy man in those days. Not only was He a famous rock ‘n’ roll musician and singer, but He had recently become the King of Kings. That meant speaking engagements all over, every day of the year. Poor Jesus barely had time to spend with little J.C. Junior, and Marie had long since shuffled off to Monte Carlo with her mother (and over half of Jesus’ record contracts).
So it was with great hesitation that Paul knocked on Jesus’ dressing room door.
“Heya, Jesus. I hate to barge in on Ya like this, but You know it’s that time of year again and I thought I’d throw You a big party. The fellas are all in town, and...”
“There will be no party this year,” Jesus said as the door creaked open. Paul lowered his gaze, for fear of catching Jesus in His birthday suit.
“What? No party,” Paul said. “Whaddya mean? We always throw a big party. Why, it just wouldn’t be Christmas without it.”
Jesus sighed and motioned obliquely to the unfurled papyrus scrolls spread all across the dressing room floor. “And this is only the good list,” He sighed. “I haven’t even begun to write the names of naughty children, and Christmas is just twelve hours away!”
“Aw, shucks, Jesus. Why didn’t Ya say something sooner?! I would have helped You out.”
Having eavesdropped on the conversation, Tarzan butted his nose in. Leaning his head around the doorjamb, he said in the primitive language of his ape people, “Tarzan help Jesus. Make Christmas big success, so children happy.”
Overhearing Tarzan’s kind words, the Korean spiritual leader Seung Huen Lee leaned into the open doorway, his exacerbated face appearing just below Tarzan’s. He said, “Korean saying go, ‘YOU WILL HAVE NO FUTURE WHEN YOU HAVE LOST YOUR TRADITIONS.’ You very good man. Christmas very, very important tradition. Therefore, we Koreans also help.”
Below Seung Huen Lee’s head appeared Squanto, who held his Indian headdress on with one hand as he peered around the doorjamb. “Squanto also help Jesus,” he grunted.
“It’s settled then,” Paul shouted. “We’ll all help. Now let’s save Christmas!”
They worked non-stop. The cuckoo clock whistled as it whirred its tiny hour and minute hands and everyone worked at breakneck speed. It looked like they weren’t going to make it. There were so many things to do.
The original Twelve Disciples of Jesus (His roadies, publicists, and sometimes band members) busied themselves making wooden toys based on Jesus’ detailed schematics. Tarzan, Seung Huen Lee, and Squanto the Indian worked on the list of naughty boys and girls, with the help of their various ape, Korean, and Indian followers.
It was jolly old Saint Nicholas who was the most help. He seemed to have Christmas in his blood -- he was so skillful at wrapping presents. He even let Jesus borrow his sleigh and eight tiny reindeer so the trip around the world would go that much quicker.
Finally, just one hour before Christmas, at exactly 2300 hours, Jesus gathered all His disciples and saints. “I have ominous news,” He said. “My Father, the Lord our God, has informed Me that one of you will betray Me within the passing of one year. I cannot say who it is among you, but it is certain fate. Before the passing of one year, I will die on the cross.”
They did not take the news well. Tarzan was particularly upset. He cried, “But Tarzan love Jesus!”
“I know, Tarzan. I love you, too,” Jesus said. “I love all of you more than you can know. You are all the light of the world to me.”
Poor little J.C. Junior overheard this, and so came running to grab his papa’s leg. “Daddy,” he whimpered. “Don’t go.”
Saint Nicholas soothed Tarzan by giving him a back rub as Seung Huen Lee lit three sticks of incense and stuck them into a fresh orange -- a ritual first taught to him by Jesus after a dangerous adventure in the Far East during which Jesus had fought the Japanese and unified the warring tribes of Korea. Seung Huen Lee’s father had been killed in battle, and so Jesus had taught Koreans the ritual of lighting sticks of incense and placing the incense in fresh oranges as a way to commemorate the passing of a loved one, but Seung Huen Lee was only ten years old at the time and became so enchanted with the ceremony that he now carried oranges and incense sticks with him everywhere and would light the incense at sometimes inappropriate moments.
Squanto the Indian sniffed and said, “But Jesus had many adventures in both Europe and Asia, as well as visiting Squanto’s American Indian family. Jesus cannot go.”
A single wet tear dripped from Squanto’s eye, following the worn path on his leathery red face. Squanto remembered how Jesus had saved his life during that horrible buffalo stampede, and how Jesus had given him the Book of Mormon, inscribed on the golden Nephi Plates in angelic script, instructing him to bury them and inform no one of their existence. Squanto did not understand the mysterious ways of Jesus and God the Father, but he understood that one day hundreds of years in the future a prophet would find the gold tablets, and that for some strange reason that would be for the best.
Saint Nicholas finally spoke up, roughly clearing his throat. “But what will become of Christmas, Jesus? Who will deliver the presents after You are gone?”
“You will,” Jesus replied.
“Me? But -- but -- but I can’t! The true meaning of Christmas will be lost if Christ is taken out of the picture. Children in public school should celebrate Your miraculous birth, not presents from this old man. Besides, I’m not qualified!”
“Saint Nicholas,” Jesus pleaded. “We all must fulfill our special duty as decreed by My Father the Lord God. Peter will be the first Pope, to carry on the true religion, Orthodox Catholicism. Squanto must return to America so that he may help God’s chosen people learn farming. And you, My friend, shall be the Patron Saint of Christmas, Vicar of Christ on this holiest of nights, and children all around the world will know you as...Santa Claus.”
“Santa Claus...” Saint Nicholas’ lower lip trembled as Jesus placed His hands on his shoulders and blessed him.
“It isn’t going to be easy, you know. We have lots of work to do yet before we climb into that sleigh of yours and deliver the presents. First you need to learn how to shrink yourself down and slide through chimneys, and then you have to learn all the ways children try to trick you and hide where they can see you leaving presents...”
Paul loudly interrupted, “Aw, can it J.C. It’s Christmas Eve, so let’s celebrate! We can have at least one last supper before You go, can’t we?”
Everyone cheered with great enthusiasm. They cleared the worktables of toys and wrapping paper, packed the presents into huge bushel baskets and sacks, packed the bushel baskets and sacks onto Santa’s sleigh, and then pulled the worktables together to form one long table, over which they flung a billowy white tablecloth.
Then everyone sat on one side of the table as Squanto and Tarzan covered every inch of it with delightful Native American and tropical jungle foods. Squanto brought roasted turkey, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce. Tarzan brought bananas, banana cream pie, and banana pudding.
Then the gathered saints and disciples beamed as Judas carved the roast beast. They passed plates around the table until each person had a slice of meat and a large scoop of mashed potatoes. Jesus poured extra gravy on His.
“This is what Christmas is all about,” Paul giggled with glee. According to tradition they all said what they were most thankful for, although the answer was invariably Jesus. Then they all held hands and lowered their heads in prayer.
“Our Father,” Jesus began. Then He gave J.C. Junior a sly wink before adding, “And Grandfather. Lord God, please make us thankful for the food we are about to receive. May this tradition carry on throughout the millennia, and if it is too confusing, may it be split into two separate holidays which will both last throughout the millennia.”
Jesus and friends dug in. Then, as He was sometimes known to do, Jesus dug in for a second helping. Some say Jesus ate out of loneliness since His lovely wife Marie left, but I think He just loved good food. They enjoyed themselves so much that they forgot all about the time, and they were so boisterous that they couldn’t hear the call of the cuckoo.
It was 0100 hours when Paul heard the cuckoo’s second--more desperate--call. He gasped, “Oh, no! Look at the time, Jesus. You’d better hurry now or Christmas really will be ruined.”
Thank God Marie had always sewn extra sets of all Jesus’ favorite clothes, because they had no time for Santa Claus to decide what he should wear. Jesus had put on quite a bit of weight in those past few years, what with His penchant for soul food and Southern cooking in general. In fact, Jesus’ favorite red jumpsuit was a perfect fit for Santa Claus! They looked like twins, except of course that Santa’s beard was white whereas Jesus’ was light brown.
And so, a little over one hour past the usual time, December 25th, in the year of our Lord 26 AD, Jesus and Santa Claus climbed onto the sleigh wearing matching red jumpsuits for what would be the last true Christmas. It was, however, the very best Christmas ever.
