Scripture: Matthew 2:1-12 Series: 2021
Closing the ‘Star of Wonder’ Advent series on Matthew 2, this fourth-Sunday-in-Advent sermon asks why we bring gifts at Christmas. Drawing on the magi’s gifts and Christina Rossetti’s carol ‘In the Bleak Midwinter,’ Wilson argues that God’s love is a gift we cannot reciprocate, which can humiliate us or free us in humility. The only true gift we can offer is our heart, understood not sentimentally but as mercy and the concrete letting-go of resentment, trusting God enough to step into the freedom of humility.
Illustrations: young-wilson-loves-receiving, nine-inch-nails-shirt-call, baby-its-cold-outside, little-drummer-boy, in-the-bleak-midwinter, wedding-ring-sign, mismatched-gift-exchange, loved-more-than-ps5, cousin-and-neighbor-resentment
December 19
## The Gift
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the territory of Judea during the rule of King Herod, magi came from the east to Jerusalem. They asked, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We’ve seen his star in the east, and we’ve come to honor him.” When King Herod heard this, he was troubled, and everyone in Jerusalem was troubled with him. He gathered all the chief priests and the legal experts and asked them where the Christ was to be born. They said, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for this is what the prophet wrote: You, Bethlehem, land of Judah, by no means are you least among the rulers of Judah, because from you will come one who governs, who will shepherd my people Israel. Then Herod secretly called for the magi and found out from them the time when the star had first appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search carefully for the child. When you’ve found him, report to me so that I too may go and honor him.” When they heard the king, they went; and look, the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stood over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were filled with joy. They entered the house and saw the child with Mary his mother. Falling to their knees, they honored him. Then they opened their treasure chests and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Because they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they went back to their own country by another route.” Matthew 2:1-12
My favorite part of Christmas as a child was not the story of Christmas or the real meaning of Christmas. It wasn’t the baby Jesus or the shepherds or the carols. It was the presents. I enjoyed the presents. I enjoyed the receiving. The receiving was great. Giving. Receiving was awesome. People may say it is better to give than receive, but ten-year-old Wilson would say you are dreaming. Receiving is in a completely different league than giving. Receiving is like the majors. Giving is like junior high baseball. Receiving is where it is at. There are different traditions and ideas of where Christmas gifts come from. One of the most prominent ones has to do with the wise men, with the magi that we have focused on in this series. Usually Matthew 2 is read after the birth of Christ during the season of epiphany because the wiseman didn’t arrive on the first night Jesus was born, but the gifts are important. They brought gifts to Jesus. They brought gifts to the child. And over the centuries, traditions developed of offering gifts at Christmas, participating in that action of giving. The child Jesus is a gift to the world, and we then bring gifts to the child. Why do we bring gifts? My brothers and sisters, we are finishing our series on the star of wonder, looking at Matthew two and the journey of the magi. We started by looking at the star itself. Then we spoke about the prophecy and the power of prophecy. Then we talked about the rivalry of Christ coming today. On this fourth, Sunday in advent, we will speak of the gift. But before we get to that, I want to share a story about music.
When I was in sixth grade, my English teacher gave a call to my mother. It was not the good kind of call. There were no rewards involved. The rough transcript went as follows. “Hello Mrs. Pruitt. This is Mrs. Meyers. I think you should know that Wilson is wearing a t-shirt of the band Nine Inch Nails.” All of this is entirely accurate. I totally was wearing that shirt in sixth grade. I believe she went on to describe a music video of one of the band’s songs and thought that it was inappropriate for a person in sixth grade. And she thought my mom should know. So my mother, being a very discerning woman, decided to ask me about it and not just confront me or just say you’re wrong, et cetera. So she asked me about it and she was like, “Wilson, I got a call from Mrs. Meyers about a shirt you wear and this music, I’m wondering if you think this music is appropriate for you.”
My response to her was, “mom. It’s okay. It’s okay. I don’t listen to the words. I just listened to the music,” My mom let it slide. She had no response. She had no way to call me on it. Like she probably didn’t believe me that I was just listening to the music and not the words, but it was a good response. It was one of my better kid responses in life. I don’t listen to the lyrics. I just listen to the music. How can you prove it otherwise?
Music is a private experience. It is inside us. I may say I like this song or that song, but you have to trust me. I may be listening to the lyrics. I may not be. You have to trust me. Sharing music is an act of trust. If I say, “I think you’re going to like this song,” it may because I like it, or I know you like similar songs, but there is still an element of trust. One of the wonderful things about the season of advent and Christmas and the Christmas spirit is the plethora of my Christmas music and carols and songs that are familiar, but don’t get old because we only listen to them in a certain time of year. Music has an amazing power to draw us both into ourselves and out of ourselves. When we listen to a song, it enters into us, literally through our ears. Often in Advent, we hear a song that we’ve heard before that brings us joy. It changes us. Children, before they can speak, listen to music. Babies recognize songs that they heard when they were inside their mother’s belly. Music is powerful but we are not ready for all kinds of music all the time. There are songs we like and songs we feel like we should like, as well as songs that we’ve never really paid attention to.
Sometimes you can read the lyrics of a Christmas Carol or a Christmas song, and it doesn’t seem very Christmasy. For instance, the pop song, baby, it’s cold outside.
I really can’t stay Baby it’s cold outside I gotta go away Baby it’s cold outside I simply must go Baby it’s cold outside The answer is no But baby it’s cold outside
It’s really just, it’s a really creepy song. No means no. Some other Christmas carols seem out of place. The little drummer boy, there’s no drummer boys in the Bible Pretty much the entire song is made up. Even if you are a great drummer, Mary probably didn’t feel like a drum solo from the little drummer boy right after Jesus was born.
The other problem with the Little Drummer Boy is that it takes a central idea from one of my favorite Christmas carols, which we’re going to sing, based on a poem by Christina Rossetti: In the bleak Midwinter. Now there are some people who have a problem with in the bleak Midwinter because it doesn’t describe what ancient Palestine was probably like, but The goal of a Carol or a hymn or a praise song is not geographic accuracy. Praise music, hymns, and carols at their best or iconographic. What I mean by that is that they draw us to God. They draw us to the true God. They don’t draw us to a time and place long ago, they draw us right now. We hear them and we sing them to our risen Lord, Jesus Christ. Sometimes that is done with the lyrics. Sometimes it’s done just with the music, with the familiarity of the music. The tune is by the German composer, Gustav Holst, who had a gift for melody.
In the Bleak Midwinter
In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan Earth stood hard as iron Water like a stone Snow had fallen Snow on snow on snow In the bleak midwinter Long, long ago The song draws me from where I am now to that moment long ago. It is not snowing here. It may not have been snowing in England, but the world before Jesus was cold. It was a world in need of the fire of God’s love. It felt cold even on warm, sunny days. Angels and Arc Angels May have traveled there Cherubim and Seraphim Thronged the air But only his Mother In her maiden bliss Worshiped the beloved With a kiss
There are a lot of reasons that people give gifts. Some are out of obligation, some out of exchange. Some because you feel sorry for someone. Some are because you went to delight another. Some are because you’ve always done it. The gift offered by God to us is not a gift that can be reciprocated. There is no material equivalent to God’s love The best of gifts function as signs of something deeper. A ring at a wedding is a sign of love, whether made of wood or diamond, The sign is the gift.
It can be humiliating to receive a great gift. It can be humiliating if you give someone some Chex-mix and they give you a car or a diamond. Or if you give a ruby and get a paperback novel.
If we stop and think about what God has given us, if we stop and reflect on what we have offered to God, we may feel humiliated by the paucity of it. “Who am I to receive so much? I dont deserve it.” Or we may find, as God intended, freedom in that humility. Freedom in realizing that there is no gift that I can possibly return to God as great as God’s gifts towards me. God’s gift of mercy that I am forgiven. That I am not my past. I am not my sins. I’m not the mistakes I’ve made. Change is possible. A future is possible. God’s gift of new life. God’s gift of resurrection. I cannot reciprocate this. None of us can, but we can tell the story and we can realize what God seeks of us is not reciprocation, it is not statues of gold.
What can I give him? Poor as I am If I were a shepherd I would give a lamb If I were a wise man I would do my part But what I can I give him Give him my heart
We cannot reciprocate God’s love for us. And God doesn’t need the things we have. And yet, there’s absolute freedom in realizing that if God doesn’t need it, I don’t either. There is freedom in realizing that the childish desire to receive and be fêted is nothing next to the overwhelming love of God. You are loved more than a PlayStation five. You are loved more than a new car. You are loved so much that you have been forgiven and offered to be a part of a new people that walk in this absolute gift together.
The Magi gave a gift to Jesus, not knowing who he was. They sought to honor him as if they were visiting a foreign ruler. In this season of advent, when we draw close to Bethlehem, when we draw close to where Jesus rested, may we bring a gift, not a drum solo, not a tchotchke, not a white elephant, not a car, the only gift that is truly ours, our heart. And not heart in a sentimental way. Heart in a mercy way. Giving our heart is letting go of resentment. Your cousin who said that thing. Your neighbor who blew leaves in your yard. Loving God is a concrete action. For some of us, it may be easier to give God a thing than to give our hearts and let them be transformed. Trust God. Trust God that it is going to be okay to let go of resentment and step into the freedom of humility. Trust God, even if you listen to the music and the lyrics. Confess the ways your have strayed and return to the side of the manger where love has come.
May we see that God has come into human form as a child to give us life. May we give our hearts. We give our desires. May we let go with the ambitions of gifts, of keeping up with the Joneses of the rivalries of this world. May we seek first God’s kingdom. Let us pray. Heavenly father, before we were our own, we were yours. You gifted us life. You gift us new life. May we hold on to you. May we respond to your love with the gift of ourselves freely offered to you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.