The Magi's Gifts

Scripture: "After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, "Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him ... On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh." (Matthew 2:1-2, 11)

As Christmas draws near and we celebrate the birth of our Savior, I thought I would look into these gifts the magi brought to Jesus upon their arrival to see the baby King.

Oftentimes, I read the bible, and I read it almost like a novel, because some stories are so interesting! I take note of direction for my life, what is expected of me and allow the Lord to speak to me through it, of course. But sometimes I miss deeper meanings, such as the three gifts Jesus was given by the magi. Why gold, frankincense and myrrh? I don't know what the custom of the day was in the Middle East when babies were greeted into the world, but I had to find out more about these three special gifts given to Jesus.

I do most of my research through the internet, so I don't claim to be any kind of expert on the topic. However, this week in church, I found it interesting that my pastor pointed out to the congregation that no where in the bible does it mention that Joseph walked to Bethlehem while Mary rode a donkey. There weren't necessarily three magi (who are not kings, by the way) - in fact, although "magi" is plural - we don't know if there were 2, 6 or 20. But because three gifts were brought to Jesus, it's common to see three men depicted in cards and movies.

Although we have been inundated with these visions over the years and take them as fact, I don't believe there is anything necessarily wrong with these depictions, although it makes me want to delve more into stories I pretend to be familiar with because once I think I know anything in the scriptures, I realize there is so much more I do not know. It's almost dangerous to simply believe what is presented to us without finding the truth out for ourselves.

That being said, I'd like to dig a little into the gifts, because it was pointed out to me recently that they seem to have symbolic significance.

Gold. The gift of gold not only gave the young family a financial means to survive , but symbolically, gold signifies kingship. After all, the magi were looking for the King of the Jews.

Frankincense is a gum resin derived from trees native to the area. Used as perfume during biblical times, it was also used as a sweet smelling incense during worship. In Exodus 30:34-38, Aaron was instructed by God to burn frankincense with other spices as an offering in front of the ark of the covenant. However, this mixture was never to be created for anyone to enjoy freely, because it was a most holy mixture meant only for the priests to use as an offering. With this in mind, the frankincense represented Jesus' divinity, because of its use as a burnt offering. Being used only by priests, it also symbolized Jesus' priesthood as well.

Myrrh, like frankincense, is also a resin derived from native trees, but it's use was different. Also used in perfumes and incense, myrrh was also used in ointment for embalming, and as a medicine for sores and wounds. In Mark 15:23, Jesus was offered wine mixed with myrrh, to help ease his pain and suffering. But he refused to take any of it. When Joseph of Arimathea took Jesus' body away after the crucifixion, Nicodemus "...brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds. Taking Jesus' body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. This was in accordance with Jewish burial customs." (John 19:38-40)

While gold and frankincense symbolize Jesus' royalty and divinity, myrrh foreshadows our Saviors future death. Myrrh was burned during funerals, and has an earthy, bitter odor when burned. One commentary I read states how myrrh represents the bitter cup that Christ had to drink in suffering for our sins and the healing for us that his death brings. "The Magi's gift of the bitter herb is a picture of things to come."

We give gifts to each other in honor of the gift God gave to us in the package of a baby who would become a man and save us all. As we spend time with our families and friends, sharing gifts, feasting and celebrating this holy day, take a moment to reflect on the three gifts given to Jesus, and the meaning He holds in each of your lives.

God bless you all throughout the holidays. May God keep you and yours safe and healthy as we celebrate Christmas.

Prayer request: For those who don't yet know who Christ is, that we may be able to share Him boldly with others throughout the coming year.

Prayer: Thank You, Lord, for coming into the world, a helpless baby, to save mankind. There is so much depth and meaning I can barely put it into words, and I can barely finish this prayer. Your love for us is beyond comprehension.

"For God so loved the world, he gave his one and only son,
that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

Christmas 1881

I received the following story as a forward recently.
As I noted in my last blog, it was too long to add last week, so here it is this week. A Christmas story with a very poignant message for us all. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!


Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve, 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though; I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, its cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what ...

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed.

"I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me."
The high sideboards!! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something.

"Pa," I asked, "What are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before leaving her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?

"Yeah," I said. "Why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jacky was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.

"What's in the little sack?" I asked.

"Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jacky just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat, flour and shoes to the door and knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out, one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out. "We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.

My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your Ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your Ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jacky out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensen's, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

~Author Unknown

The Greatest Gift

Scripture: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." (John 3:16)

As Christmas approaches, I look at the world around me with fresh, new eyes. The state of the economy, high unemployment rates and foreclosure percentages piping in from the news. And yet Christmas advertising remains relentless with sales heralding "Black Friday", "Cyber Monday", don't miss the latest!

I have had to live extremely frugally for quite some time now, and these commercials, billboards, mailings and signs in windows are all like "background noise" to me anymore. But I don't listen or read with feelings of wistfulness, feeling as though I was missing anything, but instead, it has forced me to really think about the meaning of Christmas. My preparations used to start months in advance with lists of who to buy Christmas cards for, and gift lists, and which stores to go to for certain gifts. I'd then bring home all the booty, emptying all the bags on the floor and arranging piles in order of friends, family, in state and out of state.

This year, even my roommmate and I have decided not to buy each other gifts. There are a lot of people today in the same boat as I am. But my focus has been on what Christmas giving really means, or should mean. I received a forwarded email this week that I will publish next week. It's a long, but beautiful story about a young man who learns from his father The True Meaning of Christmas. I wish Christmas could mean looking around and giving to those in need. The widows, the children, the homeless and desperate. Single moms, the unemployed, those losing their homes, the sickly and marginalized.

Many of us complain about the "commercialism of Christmas" but our cries are lost in the roar of advertising everywhere we look.

Those who have the way and means, and are able to give abundantly, that's awesome. I'm not down on gift giving, so please don't take this blog all wrong. But the Spirit of giving is lost as we are bombarded by ads beginning in November.

My gift list is small and meager, and my friends and family understand. But whatever I give this year, it's about where my heart is, and the place they hold in my life that I value most. I can't give to all, and those who don't receive so much as a card understand my plight. But most of my friends share one thing: Jesus. It's no joke intended when I say I feel like the boy in the song, "Little Drummer Boy" this year. "Little Baby, pa rum pum pum pum / I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum / I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum / That's fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum / Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum / On my drum?"

I am blessed abundantly by the Lord in my state of need. He has provided for me in ways unexplainable as I look for work. I have a roof over my head, food in the cupboards, a truck to drive, and I'm blessed with friends and family. But I ache for those who are in more desperate need than I am, and how much I would help if I had the means.

I started out this blog with John 3:16. For God gave us a gift that is beyond comprehension. We celebrate the birth of Jesus on December 25th. A gift that can never be repaid. A gift given freely to all who will accept. There is no earning it, there are no strings attached, a gift given freely in the form of a little baby Boy who would change the world during His 33 years on earth.

As you, who are able, enjoy these Holy Days, buying gifts for your loved ones, taking joy with you and yours in wrapping and giving, don't forget Who we celebrate on this Christian High Holy Day, December 25th.

God bless you all!!

Prayer request: For a fun and safe holiday. That we can all remember the birth of Jesus in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the season.

Prayer: Lord, as we gather together during this Christmas holiday, help us to remember why we celebrate. We give thanks and praise for Who You are and what You have done for us. Amen