Christmas is a time of gift-giving. I suspect the Magi, the wise men who came from the east, may be the inspiration behind it. They brought gifts to Jesus fit for a king while He was still a very small child in Bethlehem. They gave Him gold, frankincense and myrrh because they believed He was Israel’s promised Messiah who would bring God’s kingdom to earth.

On December 25th many of us will give gifts to one another as a way of celebrating Jesus’ birthday. I’m not sure how that tradition of giving gifts to ourselves was started, but I certainly have benefitted from it over the years. This year I’ve asked for some shop lights for the garage and a couple of new shirts. We’ll see what happens. But our gifts to one another are nothing compared to the gift the Father gave us on that first Christmas morning. He gave us His beloved Son. He gave us the only Person who could rescue us from our sins and make it possible for us to become His children. The story about the angels and the stable in Bethlehem and the baby in a manger is a beautiful one, and I never get tired of hearing it. But the gift of Christmas began long before that and will continue long after this world has passed away.

On that evening before the cross, Jesus was praying, and in His prayer He mentioned where He came from before He was born, and gifts the Father had given Him before the creation of the world. But then He prayed something so big, so wonderful, so eternal that it’s hard to put into words. He prayed that He could share His gifts with us. Let’s try to understand what He meant, because until we do, we don’t really understand the gift of Christmas, and we don’t really know who we are.