Kingly Gifts

With four children, opening gifts is a cacophony of delight and insanity. I love every minute of it. We usually close out the morning with a full-scale wrapping paper war. Wadded up balls are tossed joyously about; gift bags and towers of boxes provide cover. Afterwards, it looks like a tornado hit Santa’s workshop. Days later there are bits of paper randomly scattered about that were missed in the clean up. Most likely I’ll find a stray wad in a corner come springtime.

Somehow I doubt there were ribbons and bows on the first gifts given in honor of Christ’s birth. How do you wrap myrrh? The wise men from the east, those mysterious strangers who navigated to Bethlehem by star, brought treasures to honor the birth of the baby King of the Jews: “They entered the house where the child and his mother, Mary, were, and they fell down before him and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasure chests and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh” (Matthew 2:11).

These might not seem like the most helpful gifts a new mother could receive. Where are the diapers, the casseroles, the baby monitors? The gold makes sense – all new parents quickly find out how expensive babies are. But what about the frankincense and myrrh?

Everything about Jesus’ coming had been foretold in the past and pointed to the future. The gifts He received are no different. During Israel’s golden age, under King Solomon, the Queen of Sheba came from the east bearing a “great caravan of camels loaded with spices, huge quantities of gold, and precious jewels” (1 Kings 10:2). Her response to the royal tour was, “The Lord your God is great indeed! He delights in you and has placed you on the throne of Israel. Because the Lord loves Israel with an eternal love, he has made you king so you can rule with justice and righteousness” (10:9). This might have been true of Solomon, but it is even more true of the King born in Bethlehem, the city of Solomon’s father, David.

The prophet Isaiah looked ahead to the restoration of Israel and said, “All nations will come to your light. Mighty kings will come to see your radiance. Look and see, for everyone is coming home!… From Sheba they will bring gold and incense for the worship of the Lord” (Isaiah 60:3-4, 6). The coming of the magi and the gifts they brought were evidence that Jesus was the long awaited Messiah, reminders of the eternal love of God.

But there’s something else about those strange gifts of the magi. Frankincense and myrrh come from the resin of trees that are notable for their ability to grow in harsh, unforgiving environments and thin soil. The trees are repeatedly wounded by cutting the bark, which causes the sap to bleed out. The resin hardens into tear-shaped droplets, which are scraped off the trunk and then ground into powder or steamed to make oil. The products have been used for centuries to treat sickness and heal wounds.

The baby in the manger grew into a man who one day was pierced on a tree. “He was wounded and crushed for our sins. He was beaten that we might have peace. He was whipped, and we were healed!” (Isaiah 53:5) The frankincense and myrrh pointed to the gift of the King Himself, who “personally carried away our sins in his own body on the cross so we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. [We] have been healed by his wounds!” (1 Peter 2:24) There is no greater gift.

Nativity

Mary and Joseph made their way from the back of the darkened church to the manger. A star shone out. A choir sang. Shepherds came to worship and kneel before the newborn king. It was a beautiful service.

Maybe it’s because I just read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever to my youngest. Maybe it’s because there’s a new baby in my brother’s arms. But this year I wondered why Mary and Joseph were on opposite sides of the manger and looking at their baby in a box. Wouldn’t Joseph have stood close beside Mary and Jesus? Wouldn’t Mary have cuddled her sweet new baby as mothers do? Wouldn’t she have cooed and rocked and held Him? Wouldn’t the shepherds have asked to hold Him, too?

Babies invite closeness. Every baby has been held by the friends and family who come to adore them. They promise to wash their hands and not to cough and they take the tiny bundle in their arms and marvel over how precious life is. It’s a sweetly sacred opportunity to touch a miracle.

Jesus wasn’t just for Mary and Joseph. Everyone was meant to hold Him. Lowly, unwashed shepherds. Long-seeking wise men. Insiders and outsiders. Highborn and low. All were invited to draw close to Jesus.

This invitation is for you and me, still. God doesn’t want us to stop at the manger. He doesn’t want us to sit around looking at the baby in the box. We are meant to hold Christ, to cling to Him with all our hearts and minds and strength, with everything that we have. This is the gift of salvation, and we can welcome it with open arms. It’s as easy as holding a baby.