Satire Alert: No bishops were harmed in the making of this post, except the one who absolutely had it coming.
Today is December 6, which means the Orthodox are out here lighting candles, chanting hymns, and quietly remembering that their beloved St. Nicholas once walked into the First Ecumenical Council, heard Arius spouting theological nonsense, and responded with the ancient monastic liturgy known as the Holy Slap.
Yes. The patron saint of children, sailors, and people who lose their car keys literally hauled off and smacked a dude at a global church meeting. Before he was stuffing stockings, he was rearranging Christological opinions.
Funny how Saint Nicholas started as a brown-skinned bishop sneaking around saving people from slavery and poverty, and somehow ended up as a red-suited suburban grandpa tracking your chimney like a Ring camera with diabetes. Cultures really know how to Photoshop a saint.
But the real magic was never the myth. It was the courage. A man who used his life to break chains, not sell merch. A saint who handed out justice long before he handed out treats.
And then there’s the slap.
Some say it’s historical. Some say it’s legend. Orthodox tradition basically says, “Look, don’t ruin this for us, it’s true enough.” And honestly, I respect it. Every religion deserves at least one story where a beloved figure loses patience with a man confidently wrong in public.
Arius stood there claiming Jesus was a created being, less than divine, kind of like the firstborn cosmic employee of the month. The bishops were debating. Voices were raised. Theology was on the brink.
Nicholas just… couldn’t.
He stepped across the room, lifted his hand, and delivered one clean, doctrinally-sound corrective tap. Not a punch. Not an assault. A holy “my child, stop talking” administered with episcopal accuracy.
According to the saints, Mary and Jesus appeared to the council later, returned Nicholas’ omophorion, and said, “He’s good. Let him cook.” Which is probably the Orthodox way of saying, “He shouldn’t have hit him, but Arius was asking for it.”
If you strip away the myth, the embroidery, the gold leaf, and the theological footnotes, you’re left with a simple truth:
Sometimes compassion looks like gifts.
Sometimes compassion looks like rescuing the oppressed.
And sometimes compassion is a bishop slapping a man for trying to demote Jesus.
Blessed be the ones who defend the heart of the story, even when their methods require a little post-council editing.
Blessed be the holy slap, reminding us that even saints have a breaking point, but their fire still bends toward love.
And blessed be you today, remembering that courage is rarely polite, and truth is rarely quiet.
Happy St. Nicholas Day.
Keep the Scrolls Unrolling
The Virgin Monk Boy Scrolls is a free publication.
If these words steady you, challenge you, make you laugh, or help you breathe deeper, here are three simple ways to support the work.
Share the Scrolls
Passing a link forward is how more wandering souls stumble into the monastery. Word of mouth is the whole engine.
Become a Supporting Member
Paid members unlock the Virgin Monk Boy Book Of Hours, Whispers from the Silence, and the ability to start threads and share their own Substacks in the private chat.
Tip with a coffee
A one time gift of holy caffeine that fuels both the monk and the Magdalene movement. ☕🔥
Your presence alone already helps.
Your support keeps the lantern lit for everyone else.
I hadn't seen this yet when I commented earlier! this is Divinely brilliant and timely.
Happy St. Nicholas Day!