Matthew 2: 1-12 The Unopened Gifts - Pastor Paul Larsen

Good Morning.

My name is Bass Mitchell. I am here to tell you my story of the Unopened Gifts. It is an appropriate story for today since it is Epiphany Sunday, the Sunday when we remember that the wise men came bearing gifts. Some say that we give gifts today because those wise men brought Jesus gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Personally, I think we give gifts in response to the greatest gift ever given. God gave us the gift of Jesus, our savior. But let me tell you my story. It all happened when I was in fifth grade.

No one knew how it got there. Everyone pleaded ignorance. But someone left it there.

"Maybe it was Santa," Dad said with a smile.

We don't know how long it had been there. It was pushed back against the wall behind the Christmas tree, buried beneath the other Christmas presents.

My little sister was the first to see it that Christmas morning after we had opened our many presents and during our annual Christmas paper war - the wrappings from the presents were collected and made into paper bombs that we gleefully hurled at one another.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing behind the Christmas tree.
We called a ceasefire and peeked behind the tree. It was another present, the size of a shoebox. It was wrapped in plain brown paper. For a bow it
simply had a string tied around it.

My little sister reached for it first but I was faster. I picked it up and she glared at me. I shook it. Whatever was inside didn't make any noise.

"What's in it?" she asked.

Everyone took a guess. Mom thought it just might be that new pair of shoes she had been hinting to Dad about. They weren’t really hints. She told him the brand name, color and size. But I could tell from Dad's face that he was clueless about any shoes. All of us knew, even me,
that mom wanted them for Christmas, everyone, of course, but Dad.

Dad tried to change the subject by saying, "I sure hope it's not Aunt Alma's fruitcake."

We all groaned.

Aunt Alma always sent her "special fruitcake" each Christmas. It was horrible. The one she gave us last year was tossed out in the field behind our house. It was still there last time I looked. Even the wild animals stayed away from it. Our dog, Bud, who is not exactly a picky eater, took one sniff of it and ran under the porch. I tried to get him to come out. "Come on, Bud. Come out, boy. I promise to bury that old fruitcake." But he just whimpered. He stayed under the porch for three days. I had to set his food and water bowls under there for him. Poor Bud.

Well, I knew that it couldn't be Aunt Alma's fruitcake. That fruitcake weighed a ton. Whatever was in this unopened gift, if it was a gift, was not that heavy.

"Maybe it's those bedroom slippers I wanted," Grandmother said, smiling at Dad. Dad did not look pleased that the topic had come back to shoes.
"I know what it is!" my little sister boasted.
"What?" we all asked together.
"It's a Barbie. Santa knew I wanted one," she said, convinced she had solved this mystery.
"But you already have a Barbie," I said.

"I wanted another one," she replied and explained how she had told Santa that in the letter she wrote to him. I wonder which letter that was, for she must have written at least a dozen. She couldn't even write. She just drew
pictures of the gifts she wanted. Santa had to be pretty smart to figure out what she wanted from those pictures.
"I don't think this present came from Santa," I said. "If it did, he sure did a poor job of wrapping it. You'd think Santa, with all those years of experience, would be a better present wrapper than that. Besides," I continued, "I think it's for me. It must be that pack of baseball cards I've been wanting, or the new Superman comic."
"I don't think so," my sister replied. "It's a Barbie. But I'll let you play with it."

I tossed a Christmas paper bomb at her but missed.
We all kept looking at the unopened gift resting in my hands.
"Well, there's only one way to find out what's in there," Mom said. "Open it," she told me.
I took the string off. I took the lid off the box and looked inside.

Inside was more paper except it was crumpled up filling the whole box. I picked it up and could tell that something was wrapped inside it. I pulled the crumpled paper slowly apart. The paper had been protecting a piece of wood. No. It was not just a piece of wood. It was a woodcarving. I took it out and held it up for everyone to see.

"That's lovely," Mom said.
"What is it?" my sister asked.
"I don't think it's a Barbie," I said.
"I think it's part of a nativity set," Mom answered.
"A what?" my sister said.

"A nativity set. You know, carvings of the characters in the Christmas story - angels, the wise men, the shepherds, the animals and." Mom took a closer look at the woodcarving in my hand and continued. "If I'm not mistaken, that would be Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus. But this is the most unusual one I have ever seen. Are there any other pieces there?"

I looked in the paper but it was the only one.

I took the woodcarving to the center of the room where the light was better. Sure enough, it was a baby covered with cloths of some kind - all carved in a polished, creamy brown wood. You could see the baby's eyes and even the tiny ears. The baby was smiling. His small arms were reaching up to me. The infant rested in the arms of Mary and Joseph. What was really unique was the fact that Mary and Joseph’s arms formed a heart.
"Whoever did this is a real artist," Grandmother said. "I have never seen anything like it. It's beautiful."

"Is there anything else in the box?" my sister asked, still hoping there was room for a Barbie somewhere in there.
I looked inside the box. There was something else there - a folded piece of paper. I took it out and opened it.
It was a handwritten letter. It read:
The Unopened Gifts
Inside this old shoebox you will find the great "Unopened Gift" of Christmas. I know. It's just a carving I made from olive wood of the Christ Child, held by Mary and Joseph. But I give it to you to remind you that he is that great Unopened Gift. Often he is lost in the busyness of Christmas, buried beneath presents, pushed aside, and forgotten. But he is always there.

Look at him. He is still reaching up to you, asking to be opened, to be received by you. Like this box with its brown paper, he seems plain, nothing special at all. Yet
within him is God's most precious gift. He is the very love of God wrapped up in swaddling cloths. Don't let the greatest gift of Christmas stay unopened.

But there is another unopened gift. This one is inside you. He wants you to open it for him. He wants your heart to hold him. Mary and Joseph’s arms form a heart. Let this "Heart" carved from wood remind you, your children, your children's children and every generation to come to open your hearts and let him be born there this Christmas and every day. Open the unopened gifts, and Christmas will truly come to you.

It wasn't signed.

When I finished the letter, we all looked at the "Heart" carving again but in a different light now. There were tears in the eyes of Mom, Grandmother, and Dad. Even my little sister was unusually quiet. I must admit that it was as if something deep inside me, inside all of us, opened up that Christmas morning.

After that, each Christmas we placed this same old shoebox, with the same brown paper, tied with the same string, and its wonderful contents under our Christmas tree. It was always the first gift we opened. Somehow it changed everything about Christmas.

This happened many years ago. Now I am a father and a grandfather myself. Each Christmas Eve I place that old shoebox still wrapped up with brown paper and string under the tree. The children find it in the morning, and hopefully open the great unopened gifts of Christmas.

Christmas may be over, but it is not too late to open these unopened gifts in your life. Open them now. You will be glad you did.

This narrative sermon was adapted from a story written by Pastor Bass Mitchell

GUIDED BY THE GOSPEL: GATHERING • GROWING • GIVING