A family invites the community in to celebrate a saint’s feast day.
We in the Schutte home take great pride in the fact that children from our community think Saint Nicholas lives in our backyard woods. And why wouldn’t they? Every year on December 5 (the saint’s feast is on the 6th, but we celebrate on the eve), families jam into our living room, overflow the dining room, and spill onto the back deck, anticipation filling the air. If we’re lucky, snow will have covered our yard, and those of us outside will stand shivering and breathless, watching as looks of wonder cross all the (many) small children’s faces as they begin to hear distant bells ringing.
Suddenly, a light appears — a lantern carried by a black-robed man, followed by a smaller boy carrying a sack. Behind them — oh, the wonder! — is a tall man, clad in the rich garments of a bishop, complete with miter and staff, and a full white beard flowing down his chest. The little procession is singing something, and as they climb the hill toward our house, we watchers join in.
O Come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lowly exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
A stomp of feet, a jingle of bells, and Saint Nicholas, the beloved bishop of Myra, strides into our living room. Tonight, our house is lit only by candles and lamps, giving the whole space a warm glow.
Rumor, myth, and legend surround the good saint, but there are plenty of accepted facts that help us come to know and love him all the more.
Born in the third century in Myra, now modern-day Turkey, to wealthy parents, Nicholas was orphaned at a young age. Inspired by the Gospels, as a young adult Nicholas devoted himself, and his wealth, to caring for the poor of his city, and was made its bishop. Stories of his generosity abound, and a particularly famous example is his saving of three sisters whose lack of dowries meant they’d be sold into slavery. When Nicholas became aware of their plight, by some accounts he threw bags of gold through their window. The bags landed in their shoes drying before the fire — thus today’s practice of setting out shoes or hanging stockings on this saint’s feast. Other versions say it was golden balls that the saint tossed in, remembered today in the form of oranges.
Oranges and gold coins, the chocolate kind, are in the bag our Saint Nicholas’s helper carries up the hill. Our visitors, children and parents, crowd together inside, sitting and standing wherever they can, as we all wait for the majestic bishop to speak.
Many of the legends and stories surrounding Nicholas show his deep love and care for children. One tale is told of an evil butcher who lured three youths to his shop and murdered them, throwing their bodies in a pickling barrel. Bishop Nicholas appeared, and after chastising the butcher, prayed to the Lord. The boys were miraculously restored to life. After the saint’s death, the mother of a kidnapped child prayed to Saint Nicholas, begging him to intercede for the return of the boy, now a slave in a foreign country. Legend says Nicholas appeared to the boy, blessed him, and delivered him safely home. Saint Nicholas is second only to the Blessed Mother for patronages — everyone from unwed maidens to bankers to perfumers to victims of judicial mistakes. Sailors also patronize the saint, and his relics are housed in a port town, Bari, Italy, in the beautiful Basilica di San Nicola.
As gentle as he was toward the poor and children, Nicholas took no nonsense from those who maligned his Lord. Popular accounts claim that during the Council of Nicaea, Nicholas grew so angry at the heretical proclamations of Arius, he walked over and punched him.
While righteous anger has its place (even Our Lord overturned the money changers’ tables), bickering and fighting among siblings is another matter, one our honored guest takes seriously. In a heavy German accent (it seems fitting and no one questions it), the saint greets the children, asking them if they know who he is and what stories they might know about his life. Once he’s taken all their answers, he sits and begins to read from the giant book handed to him by his helper. The saint reads out the names of a family in attendance, asking the children to gather near him.
The shock of these children grows greater as the holy man proceeds to read from his book (helpfully titled Das buch von die guten und das böse), gently chiding the siblings for being unkind to each other or not picking up their toys. How could he possibly know these things? (Parents standing in the background aren’t surprised by the saint’s knowledge!) But sternness is followed by praise as he commends the children for right-away obedience or good attitudes. After this, the saint asks the children to say a prayer together, which they do willingly, if a little timidly. “Zer gut, zer gut!” cries the good bishop, as his helpers hand around little treats. The children return to their seats as Nicholas calls up the next family and begins the charming process again.
Saint Nicholas traditions abound around the world, many of them very old and fascinating. Each country seems to associate a different mode of transportation with the saint, or even a different helper to carry his sack. Some cultures have him accompanied by a dreadful imp to frighten naughty children. But through these traditions and across the centuries runs the strong thread of the real man Nicholas, the bishop who loved God with his whole heart, and strove to make God’s love known to all by his generous deeds and prayers on their behalf. Although Nicholas was persecuted and exiled for his faith, writers at the St. Nicholas Center point out that, unlike many of his contemporaries, he was not a martyr but instead lived a long life and died peacefully. Nicholas is looked up to as an example of how to live well and for others.
Back in our living room, the saint’s visit is coming to a close. After giving the room a final blessing, he nods to his helpers and proceeds back outside, followed by children and parents alike, thanking him and singing,
O Blessed Saint, we honor you,
On this great festal day.
Hail Nicholas the faithful say,
Apostle of the way.
The rest of the evening is devoted to laughter, food, games, and a little theatrical endeavor — usually a dramatic reenactment of a scene from the saint’s life or a Christmas-themed puppet show. Our dear family friend, Fr. Amberger, mysteriously shows up, seeming to miss the saint every year. Though not ancient or elaborate, our tradition to honor this great saint is a joyous celebration and serves as a further reminder that this season is a time not just of giving but of preparation. “Prepare ye the way,” said the prophet, and Nicholas heeded him. So should we.