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How Jesus Ruined X-Mas
This is the story of how one man — one vain, self-centered man — single handedly ruined Christmas. That man’s name was Jesus Christ. It all started one year when Jesus went to the North Pole to pay a visit to Santa Claus.
Santa was working busily at his desk. It was Christmas Eve, and he needed to finish his paperwork before he could begin delivering toys.
Suddenly, the intercom buzzed.
“Santa, there’s a Mr. Christ here to see you,” his secretary said.
“Ah, let him in, let him in! Ho ho ho!” The door to Santa’s office opened and Jesus marched in. He had been prepared to start off their conversation with a barrage of insults, but the merry old man’s kindly demeanor threw him off guard.
“Jesus, I’m so glad to meet you! I’ve read a lot about you, young man.
Please, have a seat.”
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Jesus sat down in the big, comfy chair in front of Santa’s desk. “I was just going over some of my lists here — checking them a second time, you know, to ensure accuracy. I’l be leaving in just a few minutes to deliver toys to all the good little children of the world. But enough about me. .
what brings you here, Jesus?”
“Well,” Jesus answered tersely, “as you know, the Christmas holiday is named after me — for my birthday.”
“Ah, your birthday! Your birthday!” Santa exclaimed. “And you want a birthday present, right?”
“No,” Jesus replied, but Santa wasn’t listening. He was already digging through a big bag of presents that was sitting behind him. In a flash he produced a gift, wrapped in the prettiest paper you’ve ever seen.
“Here you are!” bellowed jolly ol’ Saint Nick.
“No, no — I don’t want a present. That’s not why I’m here!”
“Go ahead, open it,” Santa replied. “Don’t be modest.” Jesus sighed and unwrapped the gift. When he saw what it was, he nearly jumped out of his robes in excitement. “Wow! A crucifix necklace!” He quickly draped the solid gold necklace around his neck. “This is. . well, it’s terrific! It’s just what I wanted. Thanks, Santa Claus.”
“Nonsense! I owe everything I have to you, young man! Why, you’re the one who started this whole holiday! If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be in business!”
That reminded Jesus of why he had journeyed to the North Pole in the first place. “Well, actually, that’s why I’m here, Santa. You see, I think that this whole gift-giving thing is distracting people from what Christmas is really all about — my life and teachings and things like that.
With all this gift-giving going on, hardly anyone is paying attention to me anymore!”
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Santa frowned. “I see,” he said quietly. “Well, what do you expect out of me? Do you want me to shut down my whole operation here?” That was exactly what Jesus had wanted when he first entered the room, but the old man’s display of kindness had made him start to re-think his position. “Well, no,” he stammered, “I don’t think that’d be necessary.
That might be a little bit drastic, but definitely something’s gotta be done, because my message is being lost on the people out there, in part, I think, due to the things you’ve been doing.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear you feel that way, Jesus,” Santa said as he glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost eleven o’clock. “You know, it’s getting late and I really must be going. I’ll tell you what — you come back up here after the holidays and we’ll see if we can work out some sort of a compromise, OK? Ho ho ho!”
“I guess that’d be all right,” Jesus said, rather dejectedly.
Just then, Santa’s face became quite red indeed and he began clutching at his chest. A moment later he fell to the floor with a thunderous crash and was gasping for air. A tiny elf carrying a bag of medical supplies rushed in from out of nowhere and began administering CPR.
After a few minutes had passed and the situation seemed to have calmed a little, Jesus asked the elf if Santa was going to be OK. “Look,” responded the elf, “he’s had a mild heart attack. He’ll be all right again after a while — maybe a few months bed rest — but he’s not gonna be able to ride that sleigh tonight, that’s for sure!” Santa Claus looked to Jesus. “You’ll have to do it!” he said. Jesus turned around and looked behind him, wondering who had come in.
“You’ve got to fill in for me!” Santa continued. “You’ve got to deliver the presents to all those little children out there! No one else can do it!” Jesus knew Santa was right. The elves were obviously too small to drive the sleigh, and there was nobody else around. Still, there was no way he was going to do it! “Me? Deliver presents?” he asked incredulously.
“Sorry, but I deliver my own message, and that’s it!” 36
Santa Claus could hardly believe his ears. “But — the children!” he pleaded.
“Well, hey, I think that this might be a good thing for them! It’ll show them that the true meaning of Christmas is about me and my message, not about all those presents and stuff.”
Jesus’ staggering display of pomposity was too much for the elfin doctor to take. “What?!?” he demanded. “Are you crazy? Santa Claus is lying here incapacitated by illness and you refuse to help him out because you feel like you haven’t been getting enough attention lately?” What are you? Three years old?
That was the final straw for Jesus. No one could talk to Him like that!
“Look, it’s my holiday, and that means it’s my decision, and I say I’m not delivering any presents! I’m off for Jerusalem! So long, gentle-men!” And with that, Jesus turned and stormed out of the room.
“No, wait!” the tiny doctor called out. “I take it back! Please reconsider! Pleeeease!” But it was too late. Jesus was gone, never to return again, and all the toys that year went undelivered.
And that, boys and girls, is how Jesus ruined Christmas!