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.

© 2006  St Nicholas Society/Rosenthal

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