This fellow — Santa Claus, Father Christmas — has joined the lineup of graven images on our polytheistic/animistic mantel. That’s Hermes’ foot at the far left, followed by an ossuary jar of sharp-shinned hawk bones, and Hekate on the right.

We all know that Santa’s name derives from the Dutch form of St. Nicholas, but what need have we Pagans of a saint whose titles include “Defender of Orthodoxy” (versus the Arian Christians) and whose biographers proudly proclaim that he destroyed Pagan temples. So forget that part.

The connection with Odin is fascinating but fragile. Others go off on different tangents.

As the scripture states, “He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.”

On the other hand, I really have no problem with calling this time of year “Christmas” in casual conversation. When I was in my twenties, I rigorously drew a line and would only say “Yule.” Now I am more casual.