“Are you ready to receive the unexpected Gift?”

Christmas Eve (Luke 2:1-20)  12/24/2010

Merry Christmas. We now have just a few short hours until Santa makes the rounds through Central CT…and I know this because I checked the official NORAD Santa Claus tracker just prior to coming to the church. At this point of the evening, Santa is hard at work delivering his load of goodies and he has long completed his final check of who has been naughty and who has been nice (I hope we all have managed to get on the “Nice” list this year). Santa’s list of gifts is famous for its complete and unfailing accuracy. And like Santa, each of us has our list of gifts and we likely carefully check their accuracy – maybe not using the “naughty” and “nice” criteria, but certainly each using our own method.

Throughout this season of Advent, in addition to thinking about my Christmas gift list, I have been trying to spend some prayerful time each day in preparation for this most holy night. A little more than a week ago I read a thought-provoking essay written by William Willimon, former Chaplain of Duke Divinity School and well-known author. In his essay, Willimon reflects upon the meaning of Christmas gift giving by raising the question of “the unexpected gift,” a gift that one receives from another who was not on your official Christmas list. It does not matter whether the gift was large or small, a simple card, or perhaps a few Christmas cookies. The important point is that you have received a gift from an unexpected someone who was not on your list. Once found in this precarious position, our reaction is often guided by a desire to offer the gift-giver a present in return. Why is this true…why do we often feel compelled to give the giver something in return?[i]

Willimon answers this question by offering this thought: “We don’t want to feel guilty. We don’t want to be indebted [to the person]. The gift seems to lay claim upon us…It may well be, as Jesus says, more blessed to give than to receive. But it is more difficult to receive.”[ii] My first thought after reading Willimon’s answer was, “that’s an odd thing to say – more difficult to receive than to give.” But Willimon has a point that when one gives something to another, there is a particular power in that generous act. We have often heard heroic stories where the beneficiaries of the saving act exclaim in the subsequent interview, “I owe that person my life,” or “I can never repay such a generous act, even if I were to live a thousand years.” Comments such as these do provide us with a glimpse of the truth that Willimon points to – that receiving an unexpected gift can be difficult for us to do.

This evening we hear the story of the birth of the baby Jesus, the Christ-child as he lay in the manger. The birth of Jesus is an amazing story of a gift that was not on anyone’s list, to say the least. A gift that was so unexpected that angels needed to be sure that the recipients understood what they had just received, with a host of heavenly angels joining in at the end of the announcement. After the announcement of the birth of Jesus, we hear the reaction of those that listened to the shepherds: “And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:18-19) As the baby lay in the manger and this gift of God was marveled at by those who came to see it for themselves, the gift of the pure grace of God was not fully understood, except perhaps by the baby’s mother who received the gift and pondered these things in her heart. How truly difficult it is to receive during this time of giving. But receiving becomes easier when we realize that it is by receiving God’s gifts that we are able to give back.

Christmas is a holiday with a very long list of music classics and in that list of songs, a favorite of mine is The Little Drummer Boy. The song is a story of a poor boy that was very sad because he had arrived at the manger and was not able to give the baby Jesus a gift fit for a King. Surrounded by others who have brought wonderful and exotic presents, the peasant boy laments that he stands before the manger nearly empty-handed. His lone possession, a wooden drum, hung from the small frame of his body. Only through the poverty of his condition did he come to understand that the greatest gift he could give was to play his drum for the newborn baby. And as we imagine the Little Drummer Boy playing before the newborn Christ-child, we recognize that the Little Drummer Boy’s talent was a gift he first received from God, and only after receiving this gift was the boy able to give to others. As the young boy begins to play, Mary nods with approval. How difficult must it have been for the young boy to come forward and play his wooden drum in the midst of all the wonderful earthly gifts, but as the boy plays his drum the baby smiles – a sign to tell the young boy that he has received God’s gift and given back with great love.

Truly, blessed are those who give, but on this night of the birth of Jesus Christ, we have received the gift of our Savior. We come together this evening, gathered as a community of God’s children to hear the amazing story of the nativity and remember that the greatest gift cannot be placed in a box and wrapped with a bow. The greatest gift is the pure and abundant love of God, a gift we must first receive before we can give. As Willimon concludes his essay, he warns his readers, “It’s tough to be on the receiving end of love, God’s or anybody else’s. It requires that we see our lives not as our possessions, but as gifts.”[iii] And so the gift of love; the gift of our lives in Christ has been given to us on this holy night: receive it well and spread the gift of God’s love to an unexpected someone who is not on your list.

AMEN.

[i] William Willimon, “The God We Hardly Knew,” in Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas, pp. 141-149, (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2004), 142-143.

[ii] Willimon, “The God We Hardly Knew,” 142-143.

[iii] Willimon, “The God We Hardly Knew,” 148.


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