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I still remember the day I found out Santa Claus didn’t exist. During one of my fourth-grade art classes, a girl loudly proclaimed her disbelief in him, prompting about half of the class (including myself) to vehemently defend the classic Christmas figure. Later that day, I told my mom the story, expecting her to laugh and shake her head. Unfortunately, the pained expression on her face told me all I needed to know, and my nine-year-old self saw her beliefs crumble in front of her eyes.
The story may seem dramatic, but, at the time, it was. I bawled for hours after I found out, and I was despondent for the next several days. Reflecting on my disproportional response, it is now clear to me what this moment marked: a departure from my ability to hold blind faith. I grew up in a religious household, and I’d been taught from a young age to believe in God and, more broadly, in the Catholic Church. As silly as it seems, my belief in those things, up to that point, had been analogous to my belief in Santa Claus: an unshakable conviction in what I had always been taught. But now, my young brain reasoned, if Santa didn’t exist, why should I keep faith in God?
It’s been a decade since I first asked that question, and, to be honest, I don’t always
have the perfect answer. I still am sometimes envious of my two little sisters, who believe
in God (and Santa Claus) with a devotion that most of us can only hope to have. However, I
also have realized the value of the process of struggling to find one’s faith. Questioning my
beliefs, challenging my assumptions, and forcing myself to know why I think what I think all
lead to a deeper understanding of my religion. God could have chosen to concretely reveal
Himself to all of us. However, that would take out all elements of faith. It is not a feat to
believe in a God that you have seen, touched, and heard. * When I discovered Santa Claus
didn’t exist, it introduced doubt into my relationship with God. But it also introduced a level
of critical thinking directed towards religion that has allowed me to live out my faith in a
more educated and informed manner.
It’s true that Jesus instructed us to have the faith of little children (Matthew 18: 3-4).
However, this does not mean that we must revert to the simplistic understanding of God
that we had in our youth. Rather, I believe that it is a privilege to be able to pair this
unshakeable faith with the reasoning skills we gain in our older years. An illustrative
example occurred last year, when I shadowed my seven-year-old sister’s religion class, for
which my mom was guest-teaching a lesson. As an introductory question for the students,
my mom asked the class what their bedtime routines were. My sister, Lila, raised her hand
with the utmost confidence and, upon being called on, proudly replied, “God.”
Is this prioritization of God in her life impressive? Sure. Does her answer
demonstrate a complex understanding of God’s word or how He would like us to live our
lives? Not exactly—and that is why I am grateful for discovering Santa isn’t real, even
though it may have been challenging at first. On that fateful day in fourth grade, I gained the
ability to elevate the faith that I had taken for granted, and I believe I will spend the rest of
my life attempting to accomplish that mission, even though it is hard to return to the
complete conviction I once had. Come Christmas, I may share a sly smile with my parents
as my little sisters rip open their gifts from Santa, knowing that I know something that they
don’t know. However, as I go to mass later in the day, despite the reading, reasoning, and
learning I’ve done about my faith, I will have to accept that there are many, many things
that I cannot know either. However, as I sit down to pray, I will take the things I cannot
know as a point of pride—as proof that, despite uncertainty, true faith is still possible.
*Further, if there was undeniable proof that God existed, the concept of free will would be
severely limited, as it’s hard to consider oneself “free” to make an immoral choice if it's
unequivocally known that you will go to hell for choosing it, but that is a topic for a different
blog.
Clara is a McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville in the Class of 2028. She is studying Spanish and political science.