THE FOURTH CHURCH PULPIT

THE SEARCH FOR THE
PERFECT GIFT

DECEMBER 20, 1998
John M. Buchanan

“Dear Maria:

I think we’re going to have an exceptionally good Christmas.
The very fact that outward circumstance precludes our making
provision for it will show whether we can be content with
what is truly essential. I used to be very fond of thinking up
and buying presents, but now that we have nothing to give, the
gift God gave us in the birth of Christ will seem all the more
glorious; the emptier our hands, the better we understand...
The poorer our quarters, the more clearly we perceive that our
hearts should be Christ’s home on earth. So let us approach
this Christmas-tide not only undaunted but with complete
confidence.”

Dietrick Bonhoeffer
Love Letters From Cell 92

FOURTH
PRESBY
TERIAN
CHURCH

A LIGHT IN THE CITY

Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago
126 East Chestnut Street, Chicago, IL 60611-2094
(312) 787-4570

THE SEARCH FOR THE PERFECT GIFT
DECEMBER 20, 1998
JOHN M. BUCHANAN, PASTOR
FOURTH PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
SCRIPTURE
Matthew 2:1-11

“...and they knelt down and paid him homage...they
offered him gifts...” Matthew 2:11 (NRSV)

Dear God, in these quiet moments in the midst of the noise and frenzy of our
Christmas preparation; in the midst of national and international events of
unprecedented importance and tragedy, come to us. Startle us once again with the
old story. Help us to hear it in the days ahead as if for the first time. Silence in us
any voice but your own, that we may hear once again the singing of angels, a baby’s
cry, and your eternal, life giving word. Amen.

They came from the east, from Persia. They were Magi, mystics, wise astrologers who
observed the movements of the stars. And when they mysteriously appeared in Bethlehem,
miles and miles from their homes, observed the new born, his mother and father, the
unusual setting, they did a most extraordinary thing - they knelt and paid him homage.
Then they opened the treasure chests they had brought along and they gave him gifts,
perfect gifts, extravagant gifts, unique gifts: gold, frankincense, myrrh. And ever since, to
wise and foolish, rich and poor, believer and non-believer, it has seemed that the giving of
gifts is the very essence of Christmas.

We are heavily invested in this, literally. The responsibility weighs heavily upon us: to
make lists of recipients, to identify the appropriate gift, to enter the retail market out there
with all that entails, fight the crowds, wait in line, purchase the gift, wrap the gift, present
the gift. We are heavily invested, some would suggest, over-invested.

So huge is this enterprise that the Nieman Marcus Christmas gift catalog itself is a volume
of such heft that it costs $10. The New York Times this morning featured an article, “The
Card-Carrying Angst of the Dysfunctional Shopper,” and referred to “ Shopping Disorder...
when people spend more than they should for reasons they shouldn't.” The article said
there are psychiatrists who specialize in treating shopping disorder, mostly in Manhattan, I
guess.

When it comes to children our investment becomes even more substantial. One survey
suggests that American families will spend $365 per child this year, no surprise to anyone
who has seen lines of shoppers waiting to get into FAO Schwartz. It was asad day in our
lives when our grandchildren finally realized that FAO was a store and not an inter-active
toy museum where their grandparents took them to play for an hour or so.

The Sunday Times editorial section last week featured a piece relevant to our text “With So
Many Toys, There’s Angst in Toyland.”

“Half crazed, shrieking children rip into present after present, tossing toys left, right
and up in the air. Suddenly they are done. Some are still wide-eyed, but some are

dazed as they stare at their seasonal loot. Soon, all are playing merrily with the
empty boxes as if they are the best toys of all.”

The article suggested that “America’s children are being buried in an avalanche of toys and
that child psychologists fear that children are being simultaneously over-stimulated and
desensitized by a deluge of misguided love. Too many gifts can effect a child’s emerging
sense of self-worth - what children want and need is a genuine sense of caring.”

Attentive grandparents that we are, we sent the article to the parents of our grandchildren,
who told us the following: Driving home from school they had launched into an extended
conversation with our three: 11- 8-5. They explained that we give gifts because God gave
us Jesus and, believe it or not, the older you get the more you enjoy giving gifts. You enjoy
giving gifts as much, sometimes more, than receiving them; to which our very wise 11 year
old Caitlin said, “I don’t half believe that!”

We are invested in this enterprise. [ was walking through Water Tower Place last week
following a woman and her son, about six or seven. She was carrying two huge shopping
bags. She seemed weary. Suddenly her son bolted in the direction of The Sharper Image,
an upscale store. “Bobby” she called, “don’t go there.” Bobby persisted and his mother
raised her voice, “Bobby come back!” Now, heads were turning and all eyes were on Bobby
who was now Clearly going to reach his destination. Exasperated, stressed out and no
doubt exhausted, his mother now yelled in a voice heard all over the second floor glass
elevator lobby: “Bobby! Stop. We’ve been in that damned store six times already!” Now, I
was hooked. I couldn’t help myself. I had to see the object of Bobby’s quest. When I
caught up with him he was relaxing in a large leather recliner enjoying a foot massage.

Bill McKibben, an author and a Methodist layman who writes important books on
environmental issues (The End of Nature) tried to start a movement called Hundred Dollar
Holiday, whose purpose is to promote setting some reasonable monetary limits on gift
purchasing. McKibben, in his research and interviews, concludes that we feel cheated
sometimes in this season that is supposed to bring us joy and peace and love. The story of
the birth and the baby who became our savior, a story that should be full of giddy joy, can
hardly make it to our hearts because of all the rush and fuss of the season. In the process of
traveling and talking about the Hundred Dollar Holiday McKibben discovered a deep
longing in most hearts for more than what Christmas produces. People are willing to talk
about limits, but what many, maybe most of us, are feeling, is that “Christmas is something
to endure as least as much as it is to enjoy. Instead of an island of peace amid a busy life, it
is an island of bustle. The people we were talking to wanted so much more out of
Christmas: more music, more companionship, more contemplation, more time out of
doors, more love.” (The Christian Century, 12/2/98, “Who Stole Christmas?”) And I
realized that if that is what we want, everything we do in this season stands in the way of
any of it happening.

Learning to give, finding the perfect gift, is no simple task. Perhaps the most famous giver
of Christmas gifts of all, next to Santa Claus himself, is a Charles Dickens character by the
name of Ebeneezer Scrooge. Tight fisted, selfish beyond description, locked into his own
miserable little world, Scrooge is a memorable metaphor for the human condition. His
conversion, you will recall, is neither quick nor easy. He doesn’t even see the humanness

of the people around him, doesn’t seem to care about the poignant struggles of his clerk,
Bob Cratchit at all, until his dreams of Christmas past, present and future. Theologian
Douglas Ottati, in a new book, discusses Scrooge’s experience in terms of “the mysticism
without which people become less than truly human ... the sensibility without which
passion falters.” The enlarging of Scrooge’s heart, Ottati observes, “depends on his being
blessed with the right nightmares.” (Hopeful Realism, par WW

It’s only when he confronts the reality of his mortality, the brevity of his life, that Scrooge
begins to understand the blessing, the grace and gift of life. And then, his heart opens and
he laughs and he becomes a gift giver extraordinary.

So the task of finding the perfect gift means first of all knowing that the lease on the project
that is your life and mine doesn’t go on for ever. There will come a time when we will not

be able to give gifts anymore. It means knowing that and then identifying what we have to

give and then, like the Magi, opening our treasure chests and giving it.

The best gifts of all always contain within them something of the giver. Do a little
accounting today, the best Christmas gifts you ever received. My guess is that it was not
merely the size or monetary value of the gift, it was the surprise, which means the infinite
care that the giver took. And my guess is that what makes a gift memorable still is the
thought, the memory, of your parents, your beloved, your children, thinking about it,
planning it, buying it for you or making it.

It really isn’t monetary at all. Across the years my favorite gifts are plaster of paris hand
prints, popsicle-stick pencil holders, a pair of ice skates no one in the world would have
thought I might love. I look and smile every day at a book mark, plasticized with stick
figures and a 7 year-old’s drawings on it. I love Kathye’s salted pecans, and Morgan’s fudge
and Ted’s pickles and Ruthie’s reindeer cookies. Children know it too. More is not better.
Not only do toddlers seem to prefer the boxes and paper and ribbon to the toys, little ones
want to hear the same favorite story book read, over and over, until they have memorized
every word and can catch an unsuspecting parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle who is
impatient to get to the end and decides to skip a page, paragraph or sentence. Little ones
know something important when they attach themselves to the same rag doll, worn and
frayed, and drag it along behind, instead of new, better and bigger and more expensive
replacements.

Author Anne Lamott, who will be here at Fourth Church for International Women’s Day on
March 1, 1999, has written a great book on writing and living and suggests that the key to
both is giving; giving from somewhere deep in your heart. You must find what you have to
give. “We each have something to give, a song to sing. Maybe it won’t be a song exactly
but maybe just a little tune, a calliope tune, the tune of survival.” And she offers the best
story of giving she ever heard:

“An eight-year-old boy had a younger sister who was dying of leukemia and he was
told that without a blood transfusion she would die. His parents explained to him
that his blood was probably compatible with hers - and that he could be the donor.
They asked him if they could test his blood. He said sure. So they did and it was a

good match. They asked if he would give his sister a pint of blood, that it could be
her only chance of living. He said he would have to think about it overnight.

The next day he went to his parents and said he was willing to donate the blood. So
they took him to the hospital where he was put on a gurney beside his six-year-old
sister. Both of them were hooked up to IV’s. A nurse withdrew a pint of blood from
the boy, which was then put in the girl’s IV. The boy lay on the gurney in silence
while the blood dripped into his sister, until the doctor came over to see how he was

doing. Then the boy opened his eyes and asked: ‘How soon until I start to die?”
(Bird by Bird p. 205)

Sometimes, Lamott says, you have to be that innocent.

It is the secret to survival. It is the way to live, to be, to become, to rejoice, to be happy, to
laugh, to be blessed ... to know how to give.

No one ever said that more beautifully than C. S. Lewis:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be
wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you
must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it round with hobbies
and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements, lock it safe in the casket or coffin in
your own selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will
change. It will not be broken: it will become unbreakable, impenetrable,
irredeemable.” (The Four Loves, p. 111)

Something like the reverse of that is what happened in the Bethlehem stable when the
mysterious visitors from the East arrived and saw the child, the love of God, and knelt
down and did something I think may have been spontaneous and unplanned, opened their
treasure chests and gave what they had.

Something like that will happen to you and me, pray God, in the next few days, as we give
and receive the gifts of the season.

And something like that will happen to you and me as the gift of God’s love is given once
again, and our spirits and hearts are moved.

“What can I give Him
poor as lam?

What I can, I give Him,
Give my heart.”

Amen.