P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

CHRISTIANS MAKE A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS LIST #2

THE GIFT-GIVING WAR

We have to talk a little bit today about the Scrooge that’s inside all of us.  The inner demon that actually kind of resents Christmas, and thinks of the next five days here as something to be merely endured.  We were noticing this week a rather dour soundbite coming from the eminent Garrison Keillor out of his 1987 book, Leaving Home.  And I guess he must not care too much about the 25th of December, because this is what he wrote:

“A lovely thing about Christmas is that it’s compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.”

American poet Phyllis McGinley, who died back in 1978, apparently thought that we’re hit upon for donations a bit too much at Christmastime, because she put this little poem in the magazine Times Three, under an interesting title: “Dear Madam: We Know You Will Want to Contribute . . .”  Here’s her complaining little rhyme:

“Please to put a nickel.  Please to put a dime.  How petitions trickle in at Christmas time!”

We’re asking a very basic question this week in our series: Do Christians make a different Christmas list?  Do we also grumble as we scan the computer screen to see who we “owe” a present to?  Do we GIVE, hoping to score an equal or greater GET?  Worst of all, has Christmas disintegrated until it’s just a ragged-and-weary contest of keeping up with the Joneses?  Or in the case of one newspaper columnist, the Hoffmans?

Art Buchwald, the legendary humorist, writes about the time he and his wife Ann met a couple on a cruise.  The next Christmas they sent the Hoffmans a nice holiday card, reminiscing about the good times they had.  Well, the Hoffmans sent them back a letter opener from St. Moritz, which socially, unfortunately, was a step up from a simple card, you see.

The next Christmas, Buchwald’s wife, who keeps track of these things, reminded him: “We have to get the Hoffmans a present this time . . . because they got us one.”  “No!” Buchwald protested.  “Just get them a card, maybe a nicer one.”

But no, Ann went out and mailed the Hoffmans a very attractive paperweight.  The day before Christmas, they got back in the mail an expensive package with four bottles of Scotch in it.  (I don’t drink, but I understand that’s the really expensive stuff.)  And another Christmas was ruined.

And you know, it got to be a contest.  Art Buchwald bought the Hoffmans a beautiful set of Beethoven recordings; they retaliated with a color TV.  Buchwald fired back with a very expensive silver set for the Hoffmans’ daughter’s wedding.  They sent back Encyclopedia Britannica volumes in leather bindings for his anniversary.  The next Christmas Buchwald mailed them a thousand-dollar Van Gogh etching; but they won that war too with a set of matching Louis XIV chairs.

And all during this battle of giving, the two couples weren’t speaking.  In fact, this competition meant they had to cut back on gifts for the children.  But pride wouldn’t let either of them quit.  Finally, the next Christmas, Buchwald was determined to win this war once and for all.  He decided to give his enemy Mr. Hoffman a brand new T-Bird luxury automobile.  But while he was down at the dealership, his wife called: “I think they’ve surrendered,” she said in relief.  “All we got was a very cheap card this time.  Nothing else.”

“Do you really think they’ve given up?” Buchwald wondered.

“I think they have,” she said.  “There wasn’t even a return address on it.”

Well, Buchwald almost sent the T-Bird anyway, just to rub it in, but finally decided to let his enemy off the hook.  And the last line in the story is this: “He better not start up with US again.”

Well, friend, is that what giving is like for you?  Keeping score?  Looking through the tissue paper for a price sticker, or trying to figure it out from the UPC bar code, so you can see if you came out ahead or behind?

Let me encourage you right here.  Christians ought to give differently!  No score-keeping.  No trying to stay ahead.  No cutting others off just because they leave your name off their list.  No computer deleting of names of people who have hurt your feelings.

You know, friend, there’s just five days left before Christmas.  Is there someone out there who absolutely does not deserve to get a present from you this time around?  In fact, maybe you’ve intended for several months now that there should be a very conspicuous bare spot under their tree this Monday when they open their gifts.  They should notice that you didn’t send them anything, and you hope that bare place, that missing present will send a sticking-out-your-tongue message: “I’m still mad at you.”

Here’s the challenge: why not go out today, tonight after work, and do the unexpected thing?  Go and buy them, not just a present, but a special kind of present.  We mentioned yesterday a “forever” present, maybe something with lasting value, something with years and years of meaning attached to it.

Well, you say, I don’t want to do that.  But you know, we certainly do have heaven’s example in this matter.  What kind of giving has our heavenly Father expressed toward this sorry and undeserving old world?

Let me share with you a biblical Christmas card that repudiates this kind of tit-for-tat list-keeping.  How does God’s list operate?  Here’s how His Christmas messenger, the Apostle Paul, describes heaven’s strategy.  This is from Romans chapter five, verse eight:

“But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

I’ve always loved that plain statement.  “While we were yet sinners, God sent Jesus to die for us.”  What is this saying, really?  For people who haven’t given Him a gift, God wraps up the most expensive present in the history of the universe.  There’s an old line from the philosopher Kahlil Gibran, and the classic book The Prophet.  It goes like this:

“You give but little when you give of your possessions.  It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.”

And God gave of Himself — His own Son!  To people who had boldly scratched God off their list.  “You’re out!” we had all screamed up at heaven.  “We’re spending our money on ourselves this year!  Go away!  You’re not invited to our party!  Leave us alone with your fairy tales about Paradise and eternal life!”  And God accepted those insults, our nose-in-the-air journeys away from Him.  And then went ahead and sent that very best Gift.

Here’s another question, though.  Did God give with any thought of reward.  Did He send Christ, thinking to Himself, “Well, I’d better collect SOMETHING in return for this.  Let’s see how I score on Christmas morning”?  That’s how we always give, of course.  How about God?

In terms of value — money, possessions, a good character — He can’t get anything back, can He?  Because we don’t have anything to give and He knows it.  When Jesus was pushed down on that cross and the soldiers hammered the nails into His hands, He prayed a generous prayer: “Father, forgive them,” knowing these brutal guards could never deserve that forgiveness.  They could never come back with anything to make them deserving.  And neither can I.

So I say again, God gives this most monumental of Gifts, knowing we can’t respond.  In the words of that old 19th-century hymn by Elvina Hall:

“Since nothing good have I, Whereby Thy grace to claim, I’ll wash my garment white In the blood of Calvary’s Lamb.”  And then the chorus: “Jesus paid it all, All to Him I owe; Sin had left a crimson stain; He washed it white as snow.”

You see, friend, that’s how heaven gives.  Knowing that we can’t reciprocate.  We can’t match God’s spending power; in fact, we haven’t got two cents to rub together.  And most of us who have two cents have made a point of saying to God, “These aren’t for You.  I’ve crossed You off, God.  You’re wasting Your credit cards on me.”

And yet, there IS something God would like in return for that gift. And that’s us.  You and me.  Not our goodness, not our talents or good looks or generosity.  Or our money.  Or our so-called obedience.  All of that’s just filthy rags, Isaiah tells us.  But at Christmastime and all the time, when God gives, He does hope for a gift back: your life.  And my life.  Just . . . US.  He gives regardless . . . but what a Christmas party there is when we wake up and see the reality of that gift, and decide to exchange presents with our Redeemer.

Maybe you’re moved to go to church this coming weekend, or maybe Sunday night for a special Christmas Eve service.  And maybe you’re planning to give God a Christmas gift, maybe a large offering.  Who knows, it might be in your mind to help this radio ministry, The Voice of Prophecy, with a substantial year-end gift.  That would be wonderful; we would praise God for your generosity.  But friend, God doesn’t need our money.  And cash gifts, even to Box 53055 here in Los Angeles, aren’t what God looks for in return for what He has given to us.  That package He sent us 2000 years ago, the size of a small Baby and wrapped up in swaddling clothes, came without strings attached; we can’t get even now . . . even with a VISA gold card.  But He does want my life and your life; we can give Him that right now, even though it’s still just the 19th of December.

Giving to the undeserving — with no thought of reward. Yes, that’s how God gives at Christmastime.  And how about us?  We’ve still got five days here to break out of the mold of score-carding our neighbors.  There’s still time for that one last trip out into the snow, where you shop for the undeserving, and get something royal for your rival, and go to five stores to find a TREAT for that person who has misTREATed you.

Are you with me here?  I’ll meet you at the mall in half an hour.