I look forward to the day, probably far in the future, and probably long after my death, when religion is practiced as an art form of joy, loving kindness, and ecstatic reverence for existence, and all the hate and the killing and the sexual repression and institutional greed and violence is as much a shameful thing of the past as burning heretics at the stake.
Much as I like to think that Yeshuah, whom the greeks called Jesus, would have wanted.
Assuming Yeshuah existed as a real human, and is not a mythic figure, a product of the mystery religions which were very popular at that time in history.
Now, Santa Claus is a mythic figure in the old mold. Too bad he's become the emblem of consumerism gone sickly. As a right jolly old elf, he's kinda sweet - a true old european nature spirit.