I Miss The Wonder of Christmas Morning
A Reflection on Santa Arriving in Narnia
I miss the wonder of Christmas Morning.
As a child, I could never sleep during the eternity between bedtime on Christmas Eve and sunrise on Christmas Morning. I would toss and turn and lie there knowing in my head that somehow these minutes and seconds were magically taking infinitely longer to pass than on any other night of the year.
I can recall more than once finally sneaking into my parent’s bed, not because I was scared or needed them, but because they had a digital clock in their room and I didn’t. At least from their bed I could see the time passing and know that morning was oh so slowly approaching.
I miss that.
Now, Christmas Morning is all too similar to most other mornings. For a while, I was able to recapture a sense of that wonder in the eyes of my boys. Their excitement over the coming glory of opening presents and everything else associated with the day allowed me a taste of what I remembered losing as I grew older. But now, as they too have become adults, I’ve found myself waking up before them. Not because I can’t sleep due to excitement. But simply because my body clock always wakes me up earlier.
And this shadow over my soul beckons to the words of Jesus compelling me to become like a child. To return to a simple anticipation and wonderful longing for something glorious to come.
Always winter, but never Christmas
J.R.R. Tolkien was repulsed by a key narrative choice his good friend C.S. Lewis made when writing “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe”. He demonstrably opposed the inclusion of Father Christmas (Santa) in the story. Tolkien had many issues with the mixing of mythologies Lewis used to craft the world of Narnia. For Tolkien, any world worth writing about must have its own mythology (and in Tolkien’s case, its own language).
But Father Christmas was beyond Tolkien’s limit. We know this because he must have opposed the character’s inclusion so passionately that he later wrote a four-page letter apologizing for the manner in which he voiced that opposition to Lewis.
But despite this, Lewis included Santa in the story. I think I understand why.
The first hint of the reason happens much earlier in the narrative when Lucy first crosses the threshold of the wardrobe and enters Narnia. It is cold. Gloomy. Harsh. And when she meets the faun, Mr. Tumnus, and begins to learn of where she is, he explains the environment in a very curious ways:
“Always winter, but never Christmas.”
To which Lucy with wisdom beyond her years replies: “How awful.”
How awful it truly is.
For a child, the cold days and long nights of Winter signal the soon arrival of the wonderful morning when we wake up early to open presents and after hours of play and laughter settle down for the Christmas Feast. But a Winter without a Christmas is an unthinkable tragedy for a child. It tells their soul that something is very wrong. Something is broken. Something is missing.
It Is What It Is?
The White Witch masquerading as the Queen of Narnia has the entire land locked in a spell of perpetual cold. And for the inhabitants of the land, this has quite sadly become their accepted fate. When Mr. Tumnus tells Lucy of their reality, he does it with a casual sense of resignation. In today’s vernacular, we would simply respond to Lucy’s horror over their condition with, “It is what it is.”
And in that brokenness, we can uncover why Lewis knew he had to include the arrival of Father Christmas. Even the way he breaks into the story betrays Lewis’ purpose for him. The Pevensie children are on the run from the Witch. They hear the bells of her sleigh getting louder and louder as they desperately try to cross to where they believe the true King of Narnia, Aslan, awaits them. But it seems they’re much too slow and the gap has closed too quickly. They hide hoping not to be discovered as Beaver scouts the situation.
They are certain of an impending doom.
And then, Beaver calls them to come out of that hiding and see something wonderful. The sleigh bells they’ve been running from are not those of the White Witch. Something so much more amazing has happened.
Father Christmas has arrived.
And for the Pevenise children, it means so much more than the gifts they are about to receive. It means that the curse of the Witch has been broken. For no longer is there to be perpetual Winter without the joy of Christmas. Spring will be soon.
Aslan is coming soon.
And now, we wait. But please don’t wait like aged cynics who have lost their wonder of that spectacular morning, when we will awake to a joy for which we’ve so deeply longed.
We are not meant for perpetual Winter. We are meant for so much more.
And may the glory of what awaits keep us awake in anticipation of its arrival. Like a child robbed of sleep between bedtime on Christmas Eve and sunrise on Christmas Morning.
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