BIOGRAPHY: THE REAL SANTA CLAUS
5 — Naming Nicholas (A Recreation)
Saint Nicholas: Amazing Kid & Teen
This book answers the questions: “Who is the real Santa Claus?” and “Is Santa Claus real?”
Recap: In the previous episode, “Chapter 4 — “Patara: Nicholas’ Hometown,” David, my fourteen-year-old English language student, and I learned that Nicholas was born in a beautiful Mediterranean town, which at the time boasted the finest port in the Roman Province of Lycia. Patara, this vibrant town, still has impressive ruins visible today, and Chapter 4 included stunning images of how Patara looks now.
Today’s chapter might seem far-fetched to some, while to others, not at all. It explores the extraordinary events surrounding Saint Nicholas’ baptism, which have been documented in both art and written records for centuries. It’s important to remember that the world was vastly different 250 years after Christ’s birth than it is now, over 2,000 years later — and perhaps even the capacity to believe by faith has changed.
Chapter 5 — Naming Nicholas (A Recreation)
Year: Circa AD 250
Where: Patara, Lycia (Asia Minor), Roman Empire
Of Nicholas birth and babyhood many traditions — miracles — have come down to us.
“Miracles? With an ‘s?’” David asked. “So there weren’t just one or two miracles.”
“No. There were lots. Much about Nicholas’ life was wondrous — miraculous really.”
“Such as — ?”
“ — this recreation about how he was baptized!”
“The servant of God — ”
“ — Nicholas,” Theophany spoke the name to be given just as his brother, the bishop of Patara, was about to immerse the infant and pronounce the newborn’s name to all gathered. Theophany and Joanna’s large home was the meeting place of the Church in Patara. This was not the first time a baptism had occurred in their inner courtyard.
“Nicholas?” Theophany’s brother, paused. He looked at his younger brother as if he had missed something. “Nicholas?” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“You want to name the boy…after me?” The bishop looked at the infant, whom he held securely between his hands, before glancing back at his brother. “No, Theophany,” he adamantly shook his head in denial. “The child is to be called after our father, in the Greek way. He is to be — ”
“ — Nicholas,” Theophany said again, and he smiled. “He is to be named in your honor, dear brother.”
At first the bishop’s eyes flashed in humble denial. But it was quickly replaced by the look of one who finally understood something, as if a difficult piece of a puzzle had just slid into place.
“Not so, Theophany.” The bishop spoke loudly and authoritatively. “This child is not named after me but rather, for what the name means, ‘Victory of the People.’ The pagan world of our ancestors did not desire a people’s victor — ridiculing even those who sided with ‘the people.’
But the Christian world is different. It wants such souls. This child,” he looked down at the infant just as the baby lifted his head from where his uncle’s fingers supported him and looked directly at him.
“This child,” the bishop continued slowly, more to the baby than to the others in the room, “will be the Nicholas people all over the world will forever remember.”
Murmurs around the room could be heard. When Bishop Nicholas spoke, people listened. They were certain that what he said about the child would happen exactly as he said.
The bishop shook his head, desiring quiet, as he grasped at an elusive thread of thought that filtered from his subconscious to his conscious.
Without knowing he did so, he spoke prophetic words all in the room would repeat many times as the child grew among them. “My name might be Nicholas, but it was given to me by the traditions of men, in honor of my paternal grandfather. Not because divine gifts were bestowed upon me. Whereas your son,” his gaze touched upon Theophany and Joanna’s before turning back to the child, “has been so honored. He will be the Nicholas, the man who will give victory to the people not only by his acts of compassion and his preaching of the Word, but most importantly, by shepherding the souls of all who would otherwise go astray.”
Without expecting, nor waiting for a reply from the congregation, the bishop continued the service.
After immersing the child three times and completing the ceremony of baptism the bishop took from his assistant the opened vial that contained the consecrated oil of Divine Myrrh.
With it he anointed his nephew with the seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit and made the sign of the cross on the newly named Nicholas’ forehead. He did so on the babe’s eyes, his nostrils, his mouth, his ears, his breast, his hands, and on his feet.
Sanctified by the apostles, who, following in the example of the Holy Anointing Oil that the Lord instructed Moses to make during the forty days and forty nights when he stayed up on Mount Sinai, the Divine Myrrh of the New Covenant was the “means” of grace by which the apostles transmitted the gifts of the Holy Spirit upon those washed by the baptismal waters.
It was, in the way of apostolic succession, the “laying on of the hands” by the apostles themselves, and the baptized Christian’s divine receipt of the gifts of God.
The gifts of the Holy Spirit were bestowed upon baby Nicholas, and unlike with most people, some of those precious gifts immediately manifested themselves.
That which happened before the congregation’s astounded eyes was something that all present gave testimony took place although few could hardly believe even their own witness. Upon the holy anointing oil being placed upon the infant, Nicholas reached down with his little hands to the rim of the fountain, stretched forth his legs, straightened his back and looking up at his uncle, willed him to remove his hands from his little body.
The bishop did so.
Then, with nothing but the baptismal water supporting him, the new human called Nicholas stood — on his own!
Speechless, all looked upon the infant, as turning his head from side to side, the baby gazed out at them. A wonder was within the congregation’s midst! Even though it went against all the laws of nature and man for such a young human to stand on his own, the newly named Nicholas was.
What did it mean?
And who was this child going to be? And what was he going to do?
As the babe stood looking out at them — still, serene, content — all present were in a place devoid of earthly laws, being granted a glimpse into that world that was governed neither by time nor place nor natural events. It was a mystical moment, a foretaste of a different order.
The infant Nicholas was standing without human support. That was fact.
So was the feeling of cleansing that filled all present as the grace of God surrounded the child and spilled out over all. The baby stood motionless, and yet he was alive with an animated spirit. It brought smiles to everyone. He might be performing a wondrous act, but he was approachable too.
When a toddler finally waddled up to him and murmured baby talk, Nicholas splashed his right hand into the fountain and gurgled back, bringing all out of their trancelike state. Everyone — from the youngest to the oldest — gathered around the fountain and cooed and talked to him.
When Nicholas lifted his chubby little arms toward his uncle, the bishop lifted his myrrh-scented, sweet-smelling nephew out of the fountain. He dried his nephew’s little body himself and, in the peaceful way of very young babies, Nicholas immediately fell asleep within the safety of his uncle’s arms.
Theophany placed his arm across Joanna’s shoulders, and looking down at their son, of one accord, they, and everybody else knelt and gave thanks to God for the gift of this human whom He had planted within their presence.
None doubted that the babe, Nicholas, had been wrongly named.
He would be a “champion of the people.”
At such a young age, he already was.
“Wow!” David said and rubbed his hands across his arms. “That gave me goose bumps!”
“It must have been very emotional for the people there.”
“Definitely. Seeing an infant stand alone! It would freak me out! Any other such miracles?”
I motioned for him to continue to the next chapter!
Note from the Author
Concerning Nicholas’ baptism:
From what early writers have left us, this recreation is an accurate account of baptisms during this time. It may differ from some modern thoughts about baptism, but it remains true to the early Christian era — and specifically to that time in which Nicholas lived.
