(This is part 2 of our “Santa Was a Ministry Rockstar” series. For part one, click here.)
The Santa we know and love was called Nicholas (280? – 343 AD). He preached, taught, and served in Myra, a sizable town on the southern coast of Turkey. He loved his church, his community, and his Jesus.
But the most compelling things about Santa Claus aren’t his chimney-sliding skills, wrapping abilities, or his fondness for nordic reindeer. Before all the tinsel and egg nog, Santa was a pretty incredible guy who did remarkable things in the world of children’s and youth ministry.
Santa was, in fact, a ministry rockstar.
The story goes…
There was a man in Nicholas’ town who – although once rich – had recently fallen on hard times.
The man had three daughters who were all of age to marry. But being exceptionally poor, the man wasn’t able to provide dowries for any of them. In that culture, a woman without a dowry was essentially consigned to a life of slavery or forced prostitution.
The news of the man’s predicament reached Nicholas. He knew that he needed to act, but didn’t want to offend the man’s sense of pride or malign his daughters’ prospects by becoming a benefactor.
His plan: Arrive secretly at the man’s house during the night, and launch a bag of money through the window. (Legend has it that the bag actually landed in a shoe by the fireplace, leading the the idea of stockings by the fire). The man awoke the next morning overjoyed that his need had been met by an anonymous friend. Soon, his first daughter was married.
Not long after, the man found another bag by the fire. His second daughter was now provided for. Soon after, she was married too.
Suspecting that the anonymous giver might return a third time, the man developed the practice of staying up at night. His vigilance paid off. As the third present sailed through the window, the man called out to Nicholas as he sped away: “Ah Nicolas, it’s you! You have saved my daughters from a horrible disaster!”
Nicholas’ response:
“You must thank God alone for providing these gifts in answer to your prayers.” Nicholas then asked him not to tell a soul.
It’s hard to serve in anonymity.
Nicholas did something incredible.
And then then made sure no one knew about it.
Most of us don’t want the trophies. But if we’re honest, we kinda like what the trophies represent: the approval of others, the respect of our peers, the inner sense of security.
Here’s the sticky point: security in Christ precedes generosity to others. If you want to give with no strings attached, you need to be secure in who you are.
