It seems that, once again, a vicar has got himself into trouble for telling children of primary age that Santa Claus is ‘not real’ – I seem to remember that exactly the same story appeared in the run-up to Christmas last year, and perhaps even the year before that.
The story of an elusive, magical figure flying around the world, leaving lavish and plentiful gifts for some children and next to nothing for others, seems like a particularly ridiculous and unedifying myth to perpetuate - nevertheless, that's something for each individual parent to decide - but why decry those who choose not to go along with the pretense? A refusal to conform to the peculiar charades of others might be impolite but it's no indication of insecurity.
To me it speaks of insecurity, because it seems to be rationing faith as if it's a commodity in short supply; for my part, I don't understand why we can't believe in both God *and* Father Christmas
Well, for one thing, nobody seriously believes in Father Christmas - the adults who collude with the story know that it’s they themselves who leave the Xmas gifts and eat the mince pies - however much they might wish the concept of Santa was true they know full well that it’s a pretence - that’s not the case with those who genuinely believe in God - those who have had a genuine, bona fide spiritual experience, and in that sort of situation, anyone complicit in deceiving and misleading others would be castigated - and rightly so!
This morning Rowan said "I think all the Santas you see around in shops and things aren't real." He paused to see our reaction and, seeing that we weren't shocked or confused, went on with a smile, "they have strings on their ears. The last one at our school was the worst one. His sleigh was just a buggy and he looked different." We didn't say anything about this but he knew from that itself that he'd got that right.
I said, "But, you know, all the circles we see everywhere aren't real either. There's this idea of a circle but none of the circles are quite right."
Hannah said "that sounds like Platonism, you must be feeling very uncomfortable as an Aristotelian."
"Very uncomfortable," I agreed, "Look if I draw some circles," and I did, "they all have some tiny bit wrong, this one's all squodgy at the top, look, this one's flat at the bottom. And even the ones they draw with machines, if we looked with your microscope, we'd find wobbly bits at the edges. We think there's a real circle somewhere but that place isn't really anywhere."
"I'm going to draw a triangle," said Rowan.
"Look, yes, we can say that yours is a triangle and mine is a circle, but yours isn't a really proper triangle, look it has a hole in the corner."
"I'm going to invent some new shapes," said Rowan, and he began announcing their names: "Dragon-head, semioval, mummyplasm, labyrinth-handbag."
And that is where we have left the discussion for now.
It is a major disruption of a child's worldview to learn the truth. Which is not a statement against the good Reverend, but just the opposite. Probably better not to depict the myth as truth to begin with. Attempts to smooth it over with "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" rhetoric (not sure if this story is well known in the UK) may work on some but not all.
Loved this one, Francis, thank you. I've recently been reading the diary I kept when I was 6 and 7, which has a few fascinating direct glimpses into belief at that age. Unfortunately the eight months it covers doesn't include Christmas, but does include losing several milk teeth and earnestly records leaving the window open for the "fairies" (interesting plural) to get in, and notes the next day, as proof of their activity, that I'd left the curtain a bit open but it was shut in the morning. I think the specific recording of proof perhaps implies some element of doubt, however. In any case, I found this passage surprising as while I remember Father Christmas as a big part of my childhood, and one of my most intense and magical memories of early childhood involved a near "encounter" with him (cleverly staged by some older sisters) I didn't remember ever taking the tooth fairy (or fairies) seriously at all, but obviously I did. Diary also covers what must have been the first time I went to church (Brownie Church Parade).
"Had I been told Santa was not real as a child, that would have made me cross – not because I didn’t know that my parents gave me my presents, but because that’s not what you say"
As quite a young child, I was taken aback to discover that there were children in my Primary School class who maintained that Father Christmas was real, something that to me appeared manifestly not the case. I went to my mother and demanded that she back me up in my assertion. Not wanting to tell me a direct lie, she admitted that I was right but added, "but don't tell Susan". Od course, one of the reason's that I wanted independent verification was precisely in order to tell my younger sister, whic I immediately proceeded to do. I'm told that, in fact, the member of the family who was most disturbed by this was my older sister, nearly 4 years my senior.
I always had a very clear idea of what was "fact" and what was, in your words "playful myth", but I did not like adults to behave as if they could not distinguish between these or, perhaps worse, as if they believed that we children were too stupid to be able to enter into the fun of the myth without accepting it as a physical reality that could be scientifically tested. I would have been very cross if the adults around me had persisted in maintaining the truth of an old man in a red jacket riding through the sky in a sleigh pulled my magic reindeer in the face of my direct question. For me, that would not have been playing the game adn it would have been insultnig my intelligence. Of course, that is a little different from going out of one's way to disabuse children of their make-believe unsolicited.
Children come at these things in different ways, just as adults do.
Indeed; everyone (and every child) is different in their approach to belief. My approach with my own children is to neither confirm nor deny, and to encourage them to reach their own conclusions about where their presents come from; but I also take the opportunity to explain that St Nicholas was a real person
The story of an elusive, magical figure flying around the world, leaving lavish and plentiful gifts for some children and next to nothing for others, seems like a particularly ridiculous and unedifying myth to perpetuate - nevertheless, that's something for each individual parent to decide - but why decry those who choose not to go along with the pretense? A refusal to conform to the peculiar charades of others might be impolite but it's no indication of insecurity.
To me it speaks of insecurity, because it seems to be rationing faith as if it's a commodity in short supply; for my part, I don't understand why we can't believe in both God *and* Father Christmas
Well, for one thing, nobody seriously believes in Father Christmas - the adults who collude with the story know that it’s they themselves who leave the Xmas gifts and eat the mince pies - however much they might wish the concept of Santa was true they know full well that it’s a pretence - that’s not the case with those who genuinely believe in God - those who have had a genuine, bona fide spiritual experience, and in that sort of situation, anyone complicit in deceiving and misleading others would be castigated - and rightly so!
This morning Rowan said "I think all the Santas you see around in shops and things aren't real." He paused to see our reaction and, seeing that we weren't shocked or confused, went on with a smile, "they have strings on their ears. The last one at our school was the worst one. His sleigh was just a buggy and he looked different." We didn't say anything about this but he knew from that itself that he'd got that right.
I said, "But, you know, all the circles we see everywhere aren't real either. There's this idea of a circle but none of the circles are quite right."
Hannah said "that sounds like Platonism, you must be feeling very uncomfortable as an Aristotelian."
"Very uncomfortable," I agreed, "Look if I draw some circles," and I did, "they all have some tiny bit wrong, this one's all squodgy at the top, look, this one's flat at the bottom. And even the ones they draw with machines, if we looked with your microscope, we'd find wobbly bits at the edges. We think there's a real circle somewhere but that place isn't really anywhere."
"I'm going to draw a triangle," said Rowan.
"Look, yes, we can say that yours is a triangle and mine is a circle, but yours isn't a really proper triangle, look it has a hole in the corner."
"I'm going to invent some new shapes," said Rowan, and he began announcing their names: "Dragon-head, semioval, mummyplasm, labyrinth-handbag."
And that is where we have left the discussion for now.
Thank you, I love this! A budding Platonist
"you are implying that the existence of Santa and the existence of Jesus are equivalent in plausibility."
For a five-year-old child, this is true.
Indeed, but an adult should know better
It is a major disruption of a child's worldview to learn the truth. Which is not a statement against the good Reverend, but just the opposite. Probably better not to depict the myth as truth to begin with. Attempts to smooth it over with "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" rhetoric (not sure if this story is well known in the UK) may work on some but not all.
Loved this one, Francis, thank you. I've recently been reading the diary I kept when I was 6 and 7, which has a few fascinating direct glimpses into belief at that age. Unfortunately the eight months it covers doesn't include Christmas, but does include losing several milk teeth and earnestly records leaving the window open for the "fairies" (interesting plural) to get in, and notes the next day, as proof of their activity, that I'd left the curtain a bit open but it was shut in the morning. I think the specific recording of proof perhaps implies some element of doubt, however. In any case, I found this passage surprising as while I remember Father Christmas as a big part of my childhood, and one of my most intense and magical memories of early childhood involved a near "encounter" with him (cleverly staged by some older sisters) I didn't remember ever taking the tooth fairy (or fairies) seriously at all, but obviously I did. Diary also covers what must have been the first time I went to church (Brownie Church Parade).
Fascinating, thank you!
"Had I been told Santa was not real as a child, that would have made me cross – not because I didn’t know that my parents gave me my presents, but because that’s not what you say"
As quite a young child, I was taken aback to discover that there were children in my Primary School class who maintained that Father Christmas was real, something that to me appeared manifestly not the case. I went to my mother and demanded that she back me up in my assertion. Not wanting to tell me a direct lie, she admitted that I was right but added, "but don't tell Susan". Od course, one of the reason's that I wanted independent verification was precisely in order to tell my younger sister, whic I immediately proceeded to do. I'm told that, in fact, the member of the family who was most disturbed by this was my older sister, nearly 4 years my senior.
I always had a very clear idea of what was "fact" and what was, in your words "playful myth", but I did not like adults to behave as if they could not distinguish between these or, perhaps worse, as if they believed that we children were too stupid to be able to enter into the fun of the myth without accepting it as a physical reality that could be scientifically tested. I would have been very cross if the adults around me had persisted in maintaining the truth of an old man in a red jacket riding through the sky in a sleigh pulled my magic reindeer in the face of my direct question. For me, that would not have been playing the game adn it would have been insultnig my intelligence. Of course, that is a little different from going out of one's way to disabuse children of their make-believe unsolicited.
Children come at these things in different ways, just as adults do.
Indeed; everyone (and every child) is different in their approach to belief. My approach with my own children is to neither confirm nor deny, and to encourage them to reach their own conclusions about where their presents come from; but I also take the opportunity to explain that St Nicholas was a real person