God and Santa Claus

[flyingfox]

Greetings from Malaysia!

I was brought up as a muslim and as a child I believed in everything I was told: Adam and Eve, Noah's ark, Moses and the Red Sea etc. But I became an atheist in my early teens, the reason? Education, I discovered Darwin-no contest really.
But one question always bugged me, why is it that so many continue to believe in their silly religions. Well here's my two-cents worth: as a child we were told by our parents that if we be good boys and girls them on Christmas eve Santa would climb down the chimney to bring us presents. But as we grew up we realised that Santa was created by our parents to keep us in line.
So the reason why they continue to believe in their religions is because they never grew up. If they did they would understand that their ancestors created their religions to keep them being good boys and girls.

[Kyuuketsuki]

So the reason why they continue to believe in their religions is because they never grew up. If they did they would understand that their ancestors created their religions to keep them being good boys and girls.

Whilst I agree such beliefs are childish I think it could be problematic to argue these people have never grown up ... might be worth posting that as an opener in the Religion section though

Welcome to the forum.

Kyu

[McQ]

Welcome to the forum. This may be just one of several reasons people believe in god. So much comes into play here. societal pressures and expectations, upbringing, possibly the innate need to believe in life after death....lots to think about. This list goes on and on.

Glad to have you here.

[curiosityandthecat]

Two kids are on their way to Sunday school.
One turns to the other and says, "What do you think about all this Satan stuff?"
The other replies, "Well, remember Santa Claus? This could turn out to be your dad, too."

[Ihateyoumike]

Greetings from Malaysia!

I was brought up as a muslim and as a child I believed in everything I was told: Adam and Eve, Noah's ark, Moses and the Red Sea etc. But I became an atheist in my early teens, the reason? Education, I discovered Darwin-no contest really.
But one question always bugged me, why is it that so many continue to believe in their silly religions. Well here's my two-cents worth: as a child we were told by our parents that if we be good boys and girls them on Christmas eve Santa would climb down the chimney to bring us presents. But as we grew up we realised that Santa was created by our parents to keep us in line.
So the reason why they continue to believe in their religions is because they never grew up. If they did they would understand that their ancestors created their religions to keep them being good boys and girls.

Welcome flyingfox!
I'm with McQ for the most part on this one. However, I think for alot of people, the main reason is probably fear. Fear of what will happen if they're wrong. Fear of there not actually being an afterlife. Fear that this life is all there is. Fear of parents/family/friends/society disowning them for changing their belief system. Some religions, probably fear of direct retaliation including violence and death, for changing their beliefs.

Ever heard the phrase, "they've got the fear of god in them"? I always wondered why that's supposed to be a complimentary phrase to religious people?

[athiest12]

i'm an athiest myself but you people have to get it through your heads santa claus has nothing to do with christanity. yes i know about saint nick and al that but he was a fat man in a suit making presents in the north pole. like wtf? does that make any sense. iuts even a bit far fetched for religous people as well.

[curiosityandthecat]

i'm an athiest myself but you people have to get it through your heads santa claus has nothing to do with christanity. yes i know about saint nick and al that but he was a fat man in a suit making presents in the north pole. like wtf? does that make any sense. iuts even a bit far fetched for religous people as well.

And the Easter Bunny has anything to do with Christianity?

Speaking of Ol' Saint Nick...

[spoiler:65o2br95]Six to Eight Black Men

David Sedaris

 

I’ve never been much for guidebooks, so when trying to get my bearings in some strange American city, I normally start by asking the cabdriver or hotel clerk some ridiculous question regarding the latest census figures.  I say “silly” because I don’t really care how many people live in Olympia, Washington, or Columbus, Ohio.  They’re nice enough places, but the numbers mean nothing to me.  My second question might have to do with the average annual rainfall, which, again, doesn’t tell me anything about the people who have chosen to call this place home.

            What really interests me are the local gun laws.  Can I carry a concealed weapon and, if so, under what circumstances?  What’s the waiting period for a tommy gun?  Could I buy a Glock 17 if I were recently divorced or fired from my job?  I’ve learned from experience that it’s best to lead into this subject as delicately as possible, especially if you and the local citizen are alone and enclosed in a relatively small area.  Bide your time, though, and you can walk away with some excellent stories.  I’ve learned, for example, that the blind can legally hunt in both Texas and Michigan.  In Texas they must be accompanied by a sighted companion, but I heard that in Michigan they’re allowed to go it alone, which raises the question:  How do they find whatever it is they just shot?  In addition to that, how do they get it home?  Are the Michigan blind allowed to drive as well?  I ask about guns not because I want one of my own but because the answers vary so widely from state to state.  In a country that’s become increasingly homogenous, I’m reassured by these last charming touches of regionalism.

            Firearms aren’t really an issue in Europe, so when traveling abroad, my first question usually relates to barnyard animals.  â€œWhat do your roosters say?” is a good icebreaker, as every country has its own unique interpretation.  In Germany, where dogs bark “vow vow” and both the frog and the duck say “quack,” the rooster greets the dawn with a hearty “kik-a-riki.”  Greek roosters crow “kiri-a-kee,” and in France they scream “coco-rico,” which sounds like one of those horrible premixed cocktails with a pirate on the label.  When told that an American rooster says “cock-a-doodle-doo,” my hosts look at me with disbelief and pity.

            “When do you open your Christmas presents?”  is another good conversation starter, as I think it explains a lot about national character.  People who traditionally open gifts on Christmas Eve seem a bit more pious and family-oriented than those who wait until Christmas morning.  They go to mass, open presents, eat a late meal, return to church the following morning, and devote the rest of the day to eating another big meal.  Gifts are generally reserved for children, and the parents tend not to go overboard.  It’s nothing I’d want for myself, but I suppose it’s fine for those who prefer food and family to things of real value.

            In France and Germany gifts are exchanged on Christmas Eve, while in the Netherlands the children open their presents on December 5, in celebration of St. Nicholas Day.  It sounded sort of quaint until I spoke to a man named Oscar, who filled me in on a few of the details as we walked from my hotel to the Amsterdam train station.

            Unlike the jolly, obese American Santa, Saint Nicholas is painfully thin and dresses not unlike the pope, topping his robes with a tall hat resembling an embroidered tea cozy.  The outfit, I was told, is a carryover from his former career, when he served as the bishop of Turkey.

            “I’m sorry,” I said, “but could you repeat that?”

            One doesn’t want to be too much of a cultural chauvinist, but this seemed completely wrong to me.  For starters, Santa didn’t used to do anything.  He’s not retired and, more important, he has nothing to do with Turkey.  It’s too dangerous there, and the people wouldn’t appreciate him.  When asked how he got from Turkey to the North Pole, Oscar told me with complete conviction that Saint Nicholas currently resides in Spain, which again is simply not true.  Though he could probably live wherever he wanted, Santa chose the North Pole specifically because it is harsh and isolated.  No one can spy on him, and he doesn’t have to worry about people coming to the door.  Anyone can come to the door in Spain, and in that outfit he’d most certainly be recognized.  On top of that, aside from a few pleasantries, Santa doesn’t speak Spanish.  â€œHello.  How are you?  Can I get you some candy?”  Fine.  He knows enough to get by, but he’s not fluent and he certainly doesn’t eat tapas.

            While our Santa flies in on a sled, the Dutch version arrives by boat and then transfers to a white horse.  The event is televised, and great crowds gather at the waterfront to greet him.  I’m not sure if there’s a set date, but he generally docks in late November and spends a few weeks hanging out and asking people what they want.

            “Is it just him alone?” I asked.  â€œOr does he come with some backup?”

            Oscar’s English was close to perfect, but he seemed thrown by a term normally reserved for police reinforcement.

            “Helpers,” I said.  â€œDoes he have any elves?”

            Maybe I’m overly sensitive, but I couldn’t help but feel personally insulted when Oscar denounced the very idea as grotesque and unrealistic.  â€œElves,” he said.  â€œThey are just so silly.”

            The words silly and unrealistic were redefined when I learned that Saint Nicholas travels with what was consistently described as “six to eight black men.”  I asked several Dutch people to narrow it down, but none of them could give me an exact number.  It was always “six to eight,” which seems strange, seeing as they’ve had hundreds of years to get an accurate head count.

            The six to eight black men were characterized as personal slaves until the mid-1950s, when the political climate changed and it was decided that instead of being slaves they were just good friends.  I think history has proved that something usually comes between slavery and friendship, a period of time marked not by cookies and quiet hours beside the fire but by bloodshed and mutual hostility.  They have such violence in the Netherlands, but rather than duking it out amongst themselves, Santa and his former slaves decided to take it out on the public.  In the early years if a child was naughty, Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men would beat him with what Oscar described as “the small branch of a tree.”

            “A switch?”

            “Yes,” he said.  â€œThat’s it.  They’d kick him and beat him with a switch.  Then if the youngster was really bad, they’d put him in a sack and take him back to Spain.”

            “Saint Nicholas would kick you?”

            “Well not anymore,” Oscar said.  â€œNow he just pretends to kick you.”

            He considered this to be progressive, but in a way I think it’s almost more perverse than the original punishment.  â€œI’m going to hurt you but not really.”  How many times have we fallen for that line?  The fake slap invariably makes contact, adding the elements of shock and betrayal to what had previously been plain old-fashioned fear.  What kind of a Santa spends his time pretending to kick people before stuffing them into a canvas sack?  Then, of course, you’ve got the six to eight former slaves who could potentially go off at any moment.  This, I think, is the greatest difference between us and the Dutch.  While a certain segment of our population might be perfectly happy with the arrangement, if you told the average white American that six to eight nameless black men would be sneaking into his house in the middle of the night, he would barricade the doors and arm himself with whatever he could get his hands on.

            “Six to eight, did you say?”

            In the years before central heating, Dutch children would leave their shoes by the fireplace, the promise being that unless they planned to beat you, kick you, or stuff you into a sack, Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men would fill your clogs with presents.  Aside from the threats of violence and kidnapping, it’s not much different than hanging your stockings from the mantel.  Now that so few people actually have a working fireplace, Dutch children are instructed to leave their shoes beside the radiator, furnace, or space heater.  Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men arrive on horses, which jump from the yard onto the roof.  At this point I guess they either jump back down and use the door or stay put and vaporize through the pipes and electrical cords.  Oscar wasn’t too clear about the particulars, but really, who can blame him?  We have the same problem with our Santa.  He’s supposed to use the chimney, but if you don’t have one, he still manages to get in.  It’s best not to think about it too hard.

            While eight flying reindeer are a hard pill to swallow, our Christmas story remains relatively dull.  Santa lives with his wife in a remote polar village and spends one night a year traveling around the world.  If you’re bad, he leaves you coal.  If you’re good and live in America, he’ll give you just about anything you want.  We tell our children to be good and send them off to bed, where they lie awake, anticipating their great bounty.  A Dutch parent has a decidedly hairier story to relate, telling his children, “Listen, you might want to pack a few of your things together before going to bed.  The former bishop of Turkey will be coming tonight along with six to eight black men.  They might put some candy in your shoes, they might stuff you in a sack and take you to Spain, or they might just pretend to kick you.  We don’t know for sure, but we want you to be prepared.”

            This is the reward for living in the Netherlands.  As a child you get to hear this story, and as an adult you get to turn around and repeat it.  As an added bonus, the government has thrown in legalized drugs and prostitutionâ€"so what’s not to love about being Dutch?

            Oscar finished his story just as we arrived at the station.  He was an amiable guyâ€"very good companyâ€"but when he offered to wait until my train arrived I begged off, claiming I had some calls to make.  Sitting alone in the vast, vibrant terminal, surrounded by thousands of polite, seemingly interesting Dutch people, I couldn’t help but feel second-rate.  Yes, the Netherlands was a small country, but it had six to eight black men and a really good bedtime story.  Being a fairly competitive person, I felt jealous, then bitter.  I was edging toward hostile when I remembered the blind hunter tramping off alone into the Michigan forest.  He may bag a deer, or he may happily shoot a camper in the stomach.  He may find his way back to the car, or he may wander around for a week or two before stumbling through your back door. We don’t know for sure, but in pinning that license to his chest, he inspires the sort of narrative that ultimately makes me proud to be an American.[/spoiler:65o2br95]

[athiest12]

I dunno where the easter bunny came from.

[VanReal]

i'm an athiest myself but you people have to get it through your heads santa claus has nothing to do with christanity. yes i know about saint nick and al that but he was a fat man in a suit making presents in the north pole. like wtf? does that make any sense. iuts even a bit far fetched for religous people as well.

No one is saying Santa is directly related to Christianity, just pointing out the similarity of the fictional and magical powerful man you never see.  Although the Roman Catholic Church created a Saint in his honor and several other religions embraced his power to make the kiddos behave.  Come to think of it Santa is a lot like God since he's used to control the masses and bring fear to those who misbehave.....no one wants that stinking lump of coal after all.  

http://www.the-north-pole.com/history/index.htm

[Recusant]

Warmest welcomes, flyingfox!

For atheist12, "...hopping down the Bunny trail:"

From a Christian perspective, this page is interesting, and in fact, I find little to argue with there, though I'm not an expert on mythology, and they may have gotten a detail or two wrong.  Or, if you prefer, this wiki has some informative history as well.