6 A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah;

Christmas gift opening has felt very different from the Christmas’s of my youth. In a lot of ways, and for way too long, it had lost its joy. Maybe that’s what happens when you and your siblings grow up. You forget the joy of opening a gift and just being wowed. In our younger days it didn’t matter what was underneath the paper, because we became excited by what was revealed.

However, and thankfully so, my brothers and I are getting to, and at the age where we have our own children. How that manifested itself this year is that Jen, Austin, and I (the two older ones were down in Philadelphia) went down to my parent’s home to open gifts with my parents, both of brothers, their significant others, and my 2 year old nephew. Now last year (when they were 1 ½ and 1 respectively), Austin and his cousin Connor were too little. They looked at the presents and they would look at you like, "and you want me to do what with these things? Give me my milk cup!"

But this year, this year was different. This year they got the idea that you could tear paper to find out what was underneath…and they loved it! I sat down on the floor with Austin and was the one who helped him to get started on whatever the next present was. Jen was the filter to make sure that he didn’t get too much too fast (vitally important when it comes to any child!).

We would start out by saying, "Austin, do you want to open this present?" And he would look at the gift, regardless of its size, or the kind of paper, and give this look of "ooohhh!" Soon there after the tearing would commence which with a toddler is a full body exercise, limbs were flying all over the place. Then, finally, the gift was revealed at which point, he really got excited. Everything about him screamed, "oh my gosh! How cool is this! I got a car! Or, "I got a book!" Or, "I got another car!" (Austin received a lot of cars. He likes cars.)

What made it precious was that it didn’t get old for him. Every gift was another opportunity to say (as only a two year old can express), "Look at the gift that was given to me! How lucky am I! Somebody must really love me!" Every gift was another opportunity to see that joy unwrapped. Every gift was also a reminder of just how jaded, or at the very least accustomed, to the receiving of gifts we, as adults, have become. For Austin (and Connor as well) every gift was a reminder of what it really meant to be thankful.

As I took in their reactions I could not help but have my own habits begin to change. No longer was I thinking, "well, this will need to be returned" or "what on God’s green earth were they thinking when they got this?" Instead, I was beginning to see these gifts through the eyes of my 2-year old son. Instead, I was beginning to think (and say out loud as well), "Look at this! How wonderful is it that you thought of me enough to get me anything, let alone this gift. Thank you!" This Christmas, the joy began to return. That, in and of itself, is an absolutely amazing gift.

It is in this vein of gift giving that we hear this morning’s passage that speaks, as the Isaiah passage on Christmas Eve spoke of as well, of a light coming into the world to help lead the lives of those who had dwelled in darkness.

We know that the gift that is spoken of in these verses is Jesus. Through the eyes of faith, we know that this is the case. And yet, at least as how we respond to it, there are way too many of us who have become coarsened to this truth. The reason that I say this is because we act like the light of Christ as we receive it in the words of the nativity and in our passage this morning, are something that we are in control of, like we can use it, or return it, at our discretion. The light of Christ is not a commodity! The light of Christ is a gift that we need to learn how to receive like a youngster saying, "Look at the gift that was given to me! How lucky am I! Somebody must really love me!"

Because here’s the thing: God does love you. God loves you so much that he would send his son into the world to live, die, and be raised so that we might have the opportunity to be brought back into a right relationship with the Almighty. We celebrate communion not because we’re remembering ‘a really good guy’ but because the gift that we have received is one that needs to be recognized and celebrated often. The breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup is a time to remember that the love of God is a precious gift, a gift that should implore us to say to ourselves, and all those around us, "Look at what has been given to me!"

I had been receiving communion for 11 years before I was able to assist in administering it. The first time that I was able to do this was at Christ Church on Quaker Hill down in Pawling, NY. The way that most of the congregation received communion was that they would come forward and knell at a rail that surrounded the pulpit area. I went to each person with the bread and they would tear off a piece. The minister followed behind with the cup and each person would dip their bread into the cup and then wait for either the minister or I to offer a few words.

It started out without a hitch. Then I started to think about what I was doing, what I had become a part of, and all of a sudden I wasn’t just handing out bread or saying a few nice words anymore: I was sharing and remembering the gift of light that is Jesus the Christ. By the time the second group of people had come forward, I was just weeping. I pretty sure the minister was looking at me thinking, "What is wrong with this kid? Did he stub his toe? Did someone dislocate his finger while they were trying to tear off some bread? What’s the matter here?"

But it wasn’t at all that anything was wrong. It was that I had been reminded in a very real way that this meal is a special time to remember just how amazing the gift of Jesus truly is. In that service of communion I was reminded of how Jesus is anything but a commodity. In that service I was reminded that Jesus is the light that will guide me regardless of the darkness that I have placed myself in. Jesus is that light. Jesus is that gift. As I think back on it now, it felt a lot like how Austin looked this past Christmas: absolutely in awe that some loved him so much.

Communion represents the gift that is found in the light of Jesus Christ. How will you receive it? Like someone who has seen it all and is horribly unimpressed? Or like a child, who declares in wonder, "Look!" Remember the words of Jesus as he said to his disciples, "Let the children come unto me, and do not stop them for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Open your heart, soul, and mind to the fact that in the light of Christ we have truly received an amazing gift. Open your life as you open that gift again in communion and declare boldly, as a only a child knows how, "Look!"

Holy and gracious Lord, You truly are the gift of all gifts and yet there are many days when we live as if what You have given is so commonplace. Open us up to the truth that Your light is that which is able to redeem, and transform; Your light is the gift that is able to make us say to the entirety of the world, "Look! Look at how much I am loved!" It is in Jesus’ name that we do pray. Amen.