In this season of the year, it is worth reflecting on how we really give but one day of the year to the Great and Holy Father of our world....
In the beginning, there was the Word.
And the Word was Santy Claus;
And the Word was with Santy Clause and his flying reindeer.
And Santy Claus was jolly.

And Santy Claus created the Heavens and the Earth;
The Earth, so that all the little boys and girls
Would have a place to live and shop and play;
And the Heavens,
So Santa would have a place to fly his magick sleigh.
But seriously think about it -- why is Santy Claus called "Father Christmas"? Why is Santy known of and revered over almost all the world? Naturally, the one who would be the Father of "Christmas" would have to be the "Father of Christ" -- and look at Santy -- old man? Caucasian? Bearded? Larger than life? Check, check, check, check. How is this oh-so-inspired vision any different than the roof of the Sistene Chapel being the people's conception of God? Was not the artist who first drew Our Lord Santy Claus divinely inspired by his Santyness?

Can it be but that Santa Clause is God-the-Father? Is not Santa omniscient in his absolute knowledge of who is sleeping and who is awake, and who is naughty and nice? Doth not Santa command our goodness, yea for the very sake of goodness itself!!

Woe untae ye who blasphemously deny the existence of Santy Claus. And, even more, those who yet more foolishly deny that Santy Claus, the Creator of the World, has a secret factory (that is, a factory which is a secret, not a factory which makes SecretTM in the North Pole (North Pole = Heaven? both implying in an "upward" trajectory relative to the middling bits of earth) where he commands the host of the elves (magical beings, akin to angels or saints, naturally) -- and his flying reindeer!!

For it is written; only the fool, and I mean the total git, denies Santy Clause, who is our Father. Naturally, those who do work such a denial are just wicked and disobedient, knowing as they do that Santy is their Father and falling to the temptation to reject his stocking-stuffers.

And now, the Saint Nickean Creed:
We believe in one Santy Claus, the Father Christmas Almighty, Maker of earth and the North Pole, and of all things visible and invisible.

And in one Lord Geezus Christmas, the only-begotten Son of Santy, begotten of Father Christmas before all worlds (├Žons), Light of Light, very Santy of very Santy, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father Christmas;

by whom all holiday gifts were made;

who for us men, and for our salvation, comes down from North Pole every year, and was incarnate by Mrs. Claus, and was made man;

He suffered from bitter sleigh butt, and the third day he rose again, ascended into the North Pole;

From thence he shall come again, with glory, to judge the naughty and the nice.

Whose Santadom shall have no end.

In one holy Santa Clausic Church; we acknowledge one goodness for goodness sake for the remission of naughtyness; we look for the, and the gifts of the world to come.
Let us pray....
Our Santa, who art at the North Pole,
Hallowed by thy name,
Thy will be done, thy workshop come,
On Earth, as it is at the North Pole.

Amen.
....and then of course there are the songs....

Ah, the goodies....
Go dressed ye merry gentleman,
May nothing you dismay,
For Santa Claus our saviour
He comes on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we have gone astray
And we'll aaaaall.... go dooooown.... together....

And then there's....

Silent night, Holy night
All is well, All is right
Santy Claus making gifts for each child....
Chubby hands so tender and mild....
Come down the heavenly chiiiim-ney
Come down that heavenly chimney

And who could ever forget

Oh come let us adore him
Oh come let us adore him
Oh come let us adore him
Saaaa-anty Clause!!

So is it time, now, to stop putting aside after that one day our adoration of our Father Christmas, our Great and Mysterious Kringle, our Santy Claus, whose existence is annually confirmed by our air traffic controllers. Let us pray (again), that we may, one day, awake in heaven to see his belly, shaking like a bowl full of jelly. Amen.

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