At a small weeknight service at my church a few years ago, I accidentally revealed that there was no Santa Claus. Well, most people already knew. But there was one young man, my acolyte, who didn’t. He was the only person under the age of 30 in the room, and it didn’t occur to me to think about whether he (still) believed in Santa Claus or not. I was talking very innocently about Nicholas of Myra, the 4th century bishop whose legendary generosity gave rise to jolly old St. Nick centuries later. The following Sunday my acolyte’s mother took me aside: “Thanks a lot, Father!”

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