We three kings of Orient are;
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.
Every year our six grandkids and I put on a skit depicting a portion of the story of the Nativity. (I’m the narrator.) One year it’s the story of the shepherds and the next year it’s of the wise men/the kings. As I thought of the wise men skit, naturally I thought of this old Christmas carol. But I was stopped at the second line and the first two words—“bearing gifts.”
They (the wise men) entered the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary,
and they bowed down and worshiped him.
Then they opened their treasure chests
and gave Him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Born a King on Bethlehem’s plain
Gold I bring to crown Him again,
King forever, ceasing never,
Over us all to reign.
Frankincense to offer have I;
Incense owns a Deity nigh;
Prayer and praising, voices raising,
Worshiping God on high.
Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom;
Sorr’wing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone cold tomb.
When I think of bearing gifts to this Christmas Child, I have to wonder exactly what “gifts” do I give? What part of my life do I give that is as the gift of gold which crowns Jesus as King of my life? Does my life of prayer, praise, and worship have the sweet smell of frankincense rising up to my God? And is my reverence for my Savior as the perfume of myrrh? Lastly, I have to ask myself if I’m taking the time with the grands to instill in them the importance of bearing gifts to Jesus?
I’m still pondering exactly what my gifts are and will be. It doesn’t seem that anything I can give Him is enough, and yet all He asks of me is myself.
O, Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise.
You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
You do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.
Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God
a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that confess His Name.
And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.
Glorious now behold Him arise;
King and God and sacrifice;
Sounds through the earth and skies.
I pray that you will join me in bearing gifts to Jesus this season and everyday. “Alleluia, Alleluia,” sings my soul to my King, my God, and my Savior—The Perfect Light.