For the One Who Has Everything or Nothing

By Rev. Orlie White

John 1: 1-14

December 17, 1978

Rivera United Methodist Church, Redondo Beach, CA

I've been thinking a lot about gifts the last few weeks. I remember several years ago when our son who is now a college freshman was four or five years old. He asked his mother one day what she would like for Christmas. Under the pressure of caring for two little boys and the increased activity of the Christmas season, she answered jokingly, as many of us would have, "I'd like a little peace and quiet." "Oh, Mom," Richard said, disgustedly, "You can't buy that."

As you think about gifts, what's the gift you would treasure receiving most? Of course, the answer changes with the years and circumstances of our lives. At one age it might be an electronic toy or a gold bracelet; a pet puppy or kitten; for some the answer might be enough money to pay the heating bill, or the doctor, better clothes, an education for our children, peace and quiet, a full stomach, peace between members of the family, the absence of war, the safe return of loved ones. For others the gift treasured most could be someone who loves us, someone we can give our love to.

Our Scripture reminds us that the gift of Christmas is the gift of the Presence of God, rather an awareness of the presence of God who makes himself known as a part of this world. The Glory is present. The mystery shows his near side. He shows himself "not in the fancy of the imagination but as the unifying reality which puts sense into all other relationships. He meets us in our needs as refuge and strength in trouble; he confronts us in the people and events of each day." He comes in the awareness that "I can make it." He is the sense of "okayness" that sees us through. He is present as we are confronted by the truth that we are ruining our lives by sin, and through the invitation to a second chance. The gift of Christmas is so easily said that it might be missed if you wre to sneeze in the wrong sentence, but it is so profound that it will alter the way you think about everything. The gift of Christmas is experienced this way by one contemporary, Dwight Judy:

"...God can redeem and bring forth new life out of every circumstance. If we worship Yahweh -- I am who I am and I will redeem whom I will redeem, the one who declares himself as the present source of births -- in a manger in Bethlehem, surely also we can acknowledge him in every other out-of-the-way place."

The gift of Christmas is the gift of the Son, love incarnate; love that wears street clothes and walks around; love that exposes itself in the face of death, injustice, cruelty, and greed; love in flesh who shows us that even though the world isn't perfect we can grow in love in the midst of it.

The gift of Christmas burst forth almost 2,000 years ago in a little country that looks much like Southern California looked 200 years ago: a scant 165 miles from top to bottom and 87 miles inland from the eastern edge of the Mediterranean; a little country of sunwashed beaches, fertile plains of grain, vegetables, olives, figs, and grapes; a country of deep gorges, and valleys cut through rocky mountains. That land became Holy Land and this world became visited.

Carolyn Perry writes:

Oh the JOY!
The pure laugh-out loud,
Shout-and-sing,
Clap-your-hands,
Bear-hugging JOY of Christmas!
Catch Christmas, and hold its fresh new-baby
JOY!
Hold it werm to your heart through icy winter storms;
Feel its deep-running trimph in the bitter-sweet
Easter week;
Dance with His JOY at the rebirth of springtime;
Drink in summer's sunny blessings,
And gather the harvest fruits with thankfulness
Then share that love that has grown to bursting--
Pass on the most radiant and enduring of all God's gifts
-His Son-
With ever-fresh JOY at each new Christmas
Forever and ever! Amen!

The gift of presence is the gift of Christmas for the one who has everything or nothing. Receiving this gift requires humility and risk, and receiving this gift requires passing it on simultaneously. Giving and receiving are experienced in the same act. The reason some people cannot receive love is that they have never learned to give it. The reason some people cannot give love is that they have never learned to receive it.

Let me suggest some homely ways of receiving and giving the gift of Presence, for the one who has everything or nothing.

  1. As you wait in the shopping line, pray for those about you. A couple of weeks ago I was in a line at the Treasury, spending $10 worth of time for a 72-cent refund. I chafed at the wasted time until I thought, "I could be praying for these people all around me." I tried the same thing a week later and couldn't focus my mind on it, but it's worth a try.
  2. Forgive someone who has hurt you and do something to reconcile your lives; or take the second step to understand someone you do not like.
  3. Read a story to a child.
  4. Give some real money where there is great need; it might be a scholarship for a Methodist student. One woman in one church gave $1,000 in memory of her mother, the interest to be used for camp scholarships. Each year two youths went to summer camp who might not have been able to go otherwise.
  5. Share in words with someone you know your own feeling of thankfulness for the love of God you've seen in Jesus.
  6. Bring some peace and quiet to someone you love: do the dishes for your wife, addres some of her Christmas cards; let the kids stay home from soccer practice if they want to.
  7. Find some place to bring justice where there has been injustice.
  8. Surprise someone with a word of appreciation or affirmation. One woman recently received a note from a friend who enclosed a card with the query, "By any chance did you write this card long ago? A friend of mine lost her doctor husband recently and among his treasured effects this card was found. Enclosing it she wrote, 'I have heard you refer to friends name Whiston. Could this possibly relate to them?' This is the message on that card:

My dear Dr. Carpenter:
About a month ago I called you up from Dr. George's office asking advice about my three-year old son who was ill with pneumonia and I was unable to locate Dr. George. The little fellow has been very ill and only the skill of our doctor saved him for us. But now he is better and I want to thank you for your courtesy and sympathetic understanding, for you gave me hope and confidence and made my waiting for the doctor so much easier.
What a wonderful thing to be able to heal bodies and comfort sore hearts as a doctore does! The joy of service must be a wonderful satisfaction to one who ministers to another's need as you did for mine.
Thank you.
Mrs. Lionel A Whiston

Fifty-seven years had gone by since that was written. The woman had forgotten she had ever written that note, but Dr. Carpenter had counted it as one of his treasures for over a half a century.

What a gift to say to another, "You are a dear friend and I thank God for you."

There is a kind of weariness that sets in about this time -- each year before Christmas, and we begin to ask what is it all about?

After a month of Silen Nights
  and Jingle Bells
  and White Christmases

When you're up to your mistletoe
  with Rudolphs
  and Scrooges
  and Frosty the Snowman
  
When you've realized that
  your six-year-old doesn't ask
  how Santa can be in each store any more
  
And you're tired of tinsel
  and plastic baby Jesuses
  and wondering what to buy

It all comes to
  pajamaed feet on stair steps
  and stage whispers of excitement
  at some ungodly hour
     that is somehow perfectly godly
     because it's Christmas morning.
     
And the trauma turns to tears
  when you open the crumply wrapped
  box mummified with scotch tape
  and behold your very own
      handmade
      pot holder

And it occurs to you
  that despite all the shopping
  the millions do for Christmas
  
No one has eveer been able to buy it

For it is eternally given
  each to the other
  and from Him
  to us.

--- William D. Wendell

I hope that in the midst of all that Christmas involves you in this year, you will receive and give the gift of presence -- whether you have everything or nothing.