Santa Claus and his coats of many colours

Do you think it’s of concern to Christian fundamentalists that Santa is an anagram of Satan, and they’re both red? That’s something I tweeted in jest the other day, but it got me thinking and wondering just how a guy in a red suit got to be so firmly entrenched in what is a Christian tradition, albeit one introduced to usurp the importance of the definitively Pagan Yule that takes place just four days earlier.

Is he an old god who’s somehow managed to sneak his way in, standing at the back of the nativity scenes?

Image via Wikipedia

Many rumours surround Santa and his origins. I’ve heard it said that Santa used to dress in ivy-green until Coca Cola held him hostage in the early 20th Century, perhaps threatening his elves like South American trade unionists, until the old guy was persuaded to don the red suit and agreed to represent the interests of syrupy fizzy drinks and capitalism from that point forward in promoting vapid consumerist greed. Good scare story whether it’s true or not. If it is true, a green-robed Santa would be more like the mysterious Green Man carved on churches across Britain and thought among Pagans to be a fertility god. But we’ve also seen him kitted out in white and gold, looking like we might imagine P Diddy to look when he draws his pension.

I have yet to acquire the festive spirit this year, despite the supermarkets urging goodwill to all useless and overpriced crap producers ever since August. I’m not mean, I just don’t have a lot of money this time round—and for that reason alone many people get very depressed throughout December, so it figures that even more will be jumping off bridges due to capitalism now having entered its long, slow, tortuous death throes that could take two decades before it gasps its last and ushers in who knows what.

I won’t get depressed. Not about Christmas and my lack of abundance to squander at any rate. For me, Christmas is the hang-over from ages past, not Yule. It is Yule that carries most weight and significance, reversing a thousand years of Christian calendar colonisation—at least in this house, and the houses of most of our friends. And in my mind’s eye Santa Claus will be wearing green even if he’s red everywhere we turn.

A green Santa isn’t just appealing to Pagans, of course; he’s also got the potential to be a great symbol for the environmental movement around the world. Why not a green Santa who eschews oil-produced plastic packaging and hands out his gifts wrapped in unbleached and recycled card and paper? He’d prove the lie to those who say environmentalism is anti-fun and far too enamoured of thrift (because environmentalists seeking to save the planet are, by very definition, generous and kind souls, not Scrooge clones—for those we must look to UK ‘age of austerity’ Tories and US ‘global warming, bah humbug’ Republicans—right-wingers who would happily put people out of work and onto the streets on Christmas Eve).

Red, green, or white with gold bling, though, Santa will continue to provoke, annoy, entertain and perplex. And children will still listen out for his sleigh bells ringing on Christmas Eve. Whatever our religious and spiritual convictions, or lack of them, it takes a decidedly wintry heart to take a stand against such delicious and innocent joy in an age that wants for such simple pleasures for the other 364 days of the year.

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