The Day I Met St Nicholas
as told by James Rosenthal
My
destination was Kussnacht am Rigi, Switzerland, remote and beautiful,
where a special celebration of St Nicholas takes place each December.
This trip was to be a milestone for me. It proved to be even more than
that by the time I left.
St
Nicholas - I might be considered what one would call an enthusiast for
the customs and traditions of St Nicholas. You could say almost fanatical
as well. A collection of 500 plus images and about 600 St Nicholas post
cards, all the in proper bishop's regalia, makes for a significant commitment
to the cause of reclaiming Santa Claus/Father Christmas to his original
identity as St Nicholas, Bishop, Philanthropist, Patron of Sailors and
Children, whose feast days falls on December 6, in the beginning of
Advent.
Yet
it wasn't until just recently that I believe that, in a somewhat magical
sense, St Nick was revealed to me in a unique way by a very special
man. A true incarnation of the St Nicholas I so love.
My
search for St Nicholas has taken me to his birth place in Myra (Demre)
Turkey, and the shrine of his relics in Bari, Italy. I have visited
about 100 of the 432 Anglican churches named for Nicholas in the United
Kingdom, and I have attended festivals in Flanders, Belgium, Holland,
Lorraine and I was even instrumental in starting a now successful fest
in Canterbury.
I
had one place left in my Nicholas itinerary to visit. Kussnacht am Rigi.
My search would then
be as complete as any other such pilgrim. It was on my visit to the
final place on my Nicholas check list that I was found in the presence
of a man who I felt best exemplified the saint himself.
Ernst
is the man I speak of with such warmth. He lives in Kussnacht am Rigi,
He is 46 and looks about 30.
The
Swiss have a somewhat bizarre history of Protestant and German cantons,
French and German languages mix or make seemingly political statements,
and confusion abounds for the tourist, dare I say pilgrim. There is
even more than one Kussnacht and I almost bought the wrong train ticket!
But
as my usual good fortune, at least when it comes to St Nick, I blindly
made my way to the village that is known for its extraordinary celebration
of St Nicholas Eve.
Indeed,
I had almost taken a bus to the town centre, but old age and aches and
pains dictated calling a taxi, and am I glad I did. It made all the
difference in the world.
However,
a foreign phone-box is usually a daunting experience. Yet, I did it.
Do you speak english I asked, the response was resounding - yes. My
plea for help brought a taxi within minutes. The driver had already
arranged a hotel for me as I said I was sure where to stay (it is a
small village). Her smile and welcome made me feel much relieved. I
told her I was here because of their custom on St Nicholas. She beamed
and said, "we love St Nicholas in Kussnacht" and indeed they
do.
In
the next 24 hours I would learn that the festival includes a parade
of hundreds of men; it makes its way through the picturesque village
on a beautiful lake. The men, nearly 200 in number are all wearing candle-lit
mitres (bishop's hats), called iffelen. The scene, at least as I have
now seen it on video and in photos, is seemingly mystical.
The
procession is welcomed by people in the thousands. Alongside the mitred
men come hundred of men playing instruments, blowing traditional horns,
cracking whips and ringing Swiss cow bells. A sight, complete with a
cacophony of sound, to be remembered for ever. St Nicholas himself,
with gold miter and crozier, is the centre of attraction, and is accompanied
by two "dark men", foreboding, yet with a message, a message
my new friend was eager to explain. It is about "good and evil"
and he spoke with confidence that the children and indeed adults, always
want to be identified with the good, namely St Nick.
The
celebration continues with feasting of sauerkraut and sausage, a drink
or two, all in order to parade again about 6 a.m. St Nick goes to bed
before the second parade! It rather an adult experience.
Earlier
in the day there is a similar fest for children, but the evening celebration
is very grown-up, very long and very wonderful, well at least that is
what I heard from Mrs Meyer the taxi driver, who I was to learn speaks
english as she has an American brother-in-law. I hear also her St Niklaas
decorations are spectacular.
I
had seen a website for the village but alas in my own busy schedule
hadn't been in touch with them. About 20 minutes passed and my taxi
lady was back at the hotel. "Be at the museum at 8.45 p.m. Mr Sidler
will come, he is very busy, but will show you the miters and the video.
You must be there on time. He is very busy." Indeed there is a
St Nicholas Society with hundreds of members, but what I would find
out is that Ernst Sidler was more than a just a member of the society.
I
was 15 minutes early and I contemplated what would happen. I brought
a St Nick tie for whoever he was and some literature in English. On
the dot a young man approached the museum behind the glorious parish
church of SS Peter and Paul. In my worst German I ask "Do you speak
English?" He said, in a purer English, "are you the American?"
I confessed, while adding that I live in the UK.
There
was I was in the presence of St Nicholas himself.
The
next two hours were bliss. Ernst like me, dons the gay apparel of Bishop
Nicholas and fulfils duties that I could only wish I did, for the sake
of others. He visits schools, old folks, festivals and the society makes
Christmas baskets for those in need of friendship or who are poor financially.
Their work is true ministry, and diaconal at that.
The
video was splendid, but so was the site of 3 of the miters, huge, all
inspired by Ernst's great grandfather Franz, whose photo hung boldly
next to a glorious carved wood statue of Holy Nicholas. The more Kussnacht's
best ambassador talked the more I sensed he was indeed, for me at least,
and I guess many others, a real St Nicholas. Maybe even the real one.
The
miters are a recognised art-form. Precision craftsmanship and design,
they each have an image of the saint on one side and the IHS symbols
of Christ on the back. They range from 3 to 6 feet tall. The have a
stained glass appearance, with a place for a candle to be placed inside.
I
explained my work with the English speaking St Nicholas Society and
he was thrilled. I was told he was busy, yet he kept saying "Ask
me more questions". And I did.
Next
thing I know I was invited to the Sidler house in the mountains where
I would meet Annamarie and the three children. Amongst them was Christian.
More video, cookies, conversation, with my finding out Ernst was studying
English. I offered on-line tutoring before his exam.
Ernst
teaches children with special needs (of course he does, wouldn't St
Nick do the same), I thought of my bureaucratic work and sighed a bit.
Laughter ensued and shared hopes that we would all meet again.
Ernst
then told me of his second life, like we say "born again"
I guess. He had been having trouble seeing and concentrating - general
confusion - he was scared. There seemed no reason for such things happening
to a young and "healthy" man. Well he had every right to be
scared.
Within
days he was diagnosed with a brain tumour. He thought his life was soon
over. Family, home, school, the society, all seemed to be coming to
a sad end.
The
tumour was removed in a serious operation. It was benign.
"I
am enjoying my second life," he smiled and told me. I thought I
wonder if any of us realise just how sacred it all is. It takes much
to inspire me these days, but this is one meeting that certainly was
not by chance. Ernst aka St Nicholas has given me hope, personally,
professional and especially in my commitment to spread the truth about
Santa and reclaim the essence of the Christian message, so distorted
by church (sadly) and society.
I
have met St Nick for sure. The mystery is no more.
The
next morning I visited the Roman catholic parish church to say thanks
for such an incredible experience, certainly as good as Harry Potter
in its mystery. There, in front of me, was a life-size statue of St
Nicholas of Myra, glorious in splendour, on a side altar. Ernst told
me his priest puts lighted miters in the church near the altar during
St Nicholastide.
In
some ways I feel my Nicholas pilgrimage is complete, but alas I know
that an internet search might reveal a must place to visit. Yet if it
doesn't I will not be in any way feeling unfulfilled. Ernst isn't the
only true Nicholas I have found on my journey, there are others, but
indeed Ernst symbolises so much in his life and work and his "being".
I am glad his second life is so wonderful for him and that sense of
being wonderful comes from his doing for others, as St Nick, and Jesus
would.
As
I left Ernst and his family, his young son Christian stopped me. He
then gave me a priceless gift. It was a special Kussnacht-style miter
- a true piece of art - that he had made at school. I could not believe
it. What a gift!
Christian
asked how will you get it home on the aeroplane. Would it be a problem.
I
said, with great glee, I saw no problems taking it home. I told them
I was so proud of it and him, that I might just wear it.
