Hello, friends, and welcome back to Nations 4 Jesus. As we approach Christmas, I want to tell you a story that might surprise you. It's about a man whose name you know, whose legend fills our shopping malls and Christmas cards, but whose true story has been almost completely forgotten.
This is the story of Saint Nicholas of Myra—a radical defender of Christian Biblical truth, a fearless protector of the innocent, and a man whose generosity was so legendary that his name became synonymous with gift-giving for over 1,700 years.
But here's what most people don't know: before he became remembered only as the jolly figure in a red suit, Nicholas was a bishop who may have physically confronted a heretic at the Council of Nicaea for denying the divinity of Christ.
Let me take you back to the third century.
Saint Nicholas was a real, historically attested Christian bishop. This is not a legend invented by medieval monks. This is not a baptized pagan god. This was a real man who lived, breathed, and served Christ with extraordinary courage.
He was born around AD 270 in Patara, which is in Lycia—modern-day Turkey. He died around AD 343. He served as Bishop of Myra during one of the most dangerous periods in Christian history—the Diocletian persecutions.
Think about what that means. Nicholas lived when being a Christian could get you tortured, imprisoned, or killed. Being a bishop meant you had a target on your back. The Roman Empire was systematically trying to eradicate Christianity.
But Nicholas didn't hide. He didn't compromise. He stood firm.
He became known for four things: radical generosity, defense of the poor, protection of children, and fierce defense of Christian truth.
And here's what's remarkable—he was revered within a generation of his death. This isn't a saint manufactured centuries later for political reasons. This is a man whose impact was so immediate and so powerful that the early church couldn't stop talking about him.
Now, let me address the question many people ask: Was Saint Nicholas at the Council of Nicaea in AD 325?
Short answer: Very likely yes, though some of the details are debated.
The Council of Nicaea (AD 325) is one of the most important events in the history of Biblical Christianity because it settled the foundational question of who Jesus is. Faced with the Arian controversy—which claimed Jesus was a created being and not fully divine—the council affirmed what Scripture teaches: that the Son is eternally God, “of the same substance” with the Father. This preserved the core truth of the gospel, safeguarded the doctrine of the Trinity, and unified the early Church around a clear confession of Christ’s true nature. Without Nicaea, Christianity would lack one of its essential anchors for understanding Jesus, salvation, and the identity of the Church itself.
Back to Nicholas…he was a bishop in Asia Minor, the very region that was heavily represented at the Council of Nicaea. Early church tradition consistently associates him with Nicaea. He's listed in some later episcopal attendance records, though not all early lists have survived.
But there's a famous incident that tradition tells us about—and this is where it gets really interesting.
The story goes that Nicholas became so outraged by Arius's denial of Christ's divinity that he struck Arius during the council.
Let me give you some context. Arius was teaching that Jesus was a created being—not fully God, not co-eternal with the Father. This was a direct assault on the doctrine of the Trinity. This was heresy that threatened the very foundation of Christianity.
The Council of Nicaea was called specifically to address this crisis. Bishops from across the Roman Empire gathered to defend the truth that Jesus Christ is fully God, of the same substance as the Father.
And according to tradition, Nicholas—this gentle, generous bishop known for his love and charity—heard Arius speak, heard him blaspheme the Son of God, and could not contain himself.
He walked across the room and struck him.
Now, let me be clear about what happened next. Nicholas was temporarily censured for this action. The other bishops said, "You can't just hit people during a church council, even if they're heretics." His bishop's vestments were taken from him. He was temporarily removed from his position.
The bishops later reinstated him.
Now, whether or not Nicholas literally struck Arius, he was remembered as a fierce defender of the Trinity. That's why he became associated with Nicaea at all. You don't get that reputation by accident.
But Nicholas wasn't just known for his theological defense. He was known for his godly actions, particularly his radical generosity to the poor.
Let me tell you the most famous story, and this one is attested very early in church history.
There was a poor man in Myra who had three daughters. In that culture, daughters needed dowries to marry. Without a dowry, they couldn't find husbands. And without husbands, they faced either poverty or being sold into slavery or prostitution.
This father was desperate. He had no money. His daughters had no future.
Nicholas heard about this situation, and he did something remarkable. He secretly threw bags of gold through the window of their house at night.
One bag for each daughter. Enough to provide their dowries. Enough to save them from a terrible fate.
He did this anonymously. He didn't want recognition. He didn't want thanks. He just wanted to help.
This story is directly attested in early sources, and friends, this is the true root of Santa's chimney gifts. This is where the tradition of anonymous gift-giving comes from—from a Christian bishop who took Matthew 6:3 seriously.
Jesus said, "When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret."
Nicholas lived that out literally.
But that wasn't the only story. Other early traditions describe Nicholas saving unjustly condemned men from execution, intervening against corrupt officials, protecting sailors during storms, and defending children from abuse or exploitation.
Nicholas was known as a bishop who acted, not merely taught. He didn't just preach about charity—he practiced it. He didn't just talk about justice—he pursued it.
Now, let me trace for you how Saint Nicholas became Santa Claus, because this happened in layers, not all at once.
Phase 1: Saint Nicholas, 4th to 10th centuries.
His feast day was December 6th. He was celebrated across the Christian world—East and West, Catholic and Orthodox. Children received small gifts in his name, but the emphasis was on charity, secrecy, and holiness.
Nicholas was honored as a saint who embodied Christian virtue.
Phase 2: Sinterklaas in the Netherlands, 11th to 16th centuries.
Dutch Christians preserved Nicholas devotion even during the Reformation. The name became Sinterklaas. He was depicted wearing bishop's robes—still recognizably a church figure. He arrived by boat, judged children's behavior, and gave gifts quietly.
This is the direct linguistic ancestor of "Santa Claus." Say "Sinterklaas" fast enough and you'll hear it.
Phase 3: America, 17th to 19th centuries.
Dutch settlers brought Sinterklaas to New Amsterdam, which became New York. English speakers transformed the name into Santa Claus.
Then in 1823, the poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas"—you know it as "'Twas the Night Before Christmas"—reshaped him completely. Now he had a flying sleigh, reindeer, and visited through chimneys.
He was still benevolent, still generous, but now more folkloric than Christian. The church connection was fading.
Phase 4: Commercial Santa, 20th century.
Illustrators like Thomas Nast gave him a specific look. Advertisers—notably Coca-Cola—standardized his red suit and jovial appearance.
Santa became detached from Christianity. He became a secular symbol of generosity and childhood wonder.
This is where the spiritual core was stripped away—not earlier.
So let me be clear about what did NOT happen, because there's a lot of misinformation out there.
Saint Nicholas did not originate as a pagan god. Santa Claus is not a corruption of Christ or Satan. Nicholas was not invented by Rome or medieval myth-makers. His generosity was not fictional.
Santa Claus is a secularized descendant of a Christian saint, not a replacement deity.
Now, here's what I find most beautiful about Nicholas's story.
The theological heart of Saint Nicholas was Matthew 6 Christianity. "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing."
He believed that wealth exists to serve the poor. That children are sacred. That Christ is fully God. That Christianity and charity must coexist.
You cannot separate Nicholas's theology from his generosity. His fierce defense of Christ's divinity at Nicaea and his secret gifts to poor families were two sides of the same coin.
He believed Jesus was God—and therefore he lived like Jesus, serving the least of these.
That is why Nicholas endured long after emperors, councils, and regimes faded. Not because he was a good mythological character, but because he was a genuine Christian whose life reflected Christ. In fact, as believers, we will get to meet him in Heaven one day!
So what does this mean for us today?
Friends, I think we need to reclaim the real Nicholas. Not to ruin Christmas or spoil childhood wonder, but to recover something precious that's been lost.
When we reduce Nicholas to a jolly elf who rewards good behavior with toys, we've lost a defender of truth, a protector of the vulnerable, a man who risked everything for Christ.
Our children need to know that generosity isn't just about feeling good—it's about radical sacrifice for those who can't repay you.
They need to know that defending truth matters, even when it costs you.
They need to know that real love looks like a bishop throwing bags of gold through windows to save girls from slavery.
Let me ask you some questions. How are you embodying Nicholas's secret generosity this Christmas? Are you giving in ways that don't bring you recognition? Are you helping people who can't possibly repay you?
And how are you defending the truth about who Jesus is? Are you willing to stand firm on the divinity of Christ, even when it's unpopular?
Nicholas would have never compromised on either of these things—radical generosity and radical Christianity went hand in hand for him.
So this Christmas, as your children talk about Santa, tell them about Nicholas. Tell them about the real man who loved Jesus so much he couldn't stay silent when people attacked His divinity. Tell them about the bishop who gave everything away because he believed Jesus was worth it.
Let me pray
Thank you for joining me today. The story of Saint Nicholas reminds me that our faith is rooted in real people who lived real lives of extraordinary courage and generosity.
Until next time, keep your eyes on the nations, give generously and secretly, and remember—the best gifts come from those who know the greatest Gift of all.
Merry Christmas, friends.
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