“Life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revelries, when our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us.” Adult Ralphie, The Christmas Story
Let me set the scene. It was Christmas 1993. I was sixteen years old and was driving a sweet 1984 Pontiac Sunbird in sunbleached blue. Much like Ralphie and his Red Rider BB Gun, I had one wish for Christmas. One simple, extravagant, excellent, life-changing gift…a car stereo with a CD-player. But not any car stereo a Pioneer AM/FM CD player with detachable face. I was so 1993.
By this stage of life, I was done asking Santa for surprises under the tree. The weight fell to my mom to come through. Since Santa was no longer coming down the chimney in our home, my mom wrapped the presents and put them under the tree before Christmas morning. Even at the mature age of 16, the excitement was unbearable. “Was it under there? Was that square shaped box, neatly wrapped with a red bow without a name tag on it what I had asked for?”
Just a little peak, I thought. I peeled back a corner and the screaming sound of the paper tearing as I was slowly trying to ease the tape back. I was caught. I put the box back under the tree and hoped no one would notice.
A few days later as the calendar creeped closer to Christmas, I looked again at my beautiful box with the gift of music inside. Except this time, it was wrapped slightly different. I was walked closer, the matte wrapping paper had a sudden shimmer to it. It was reflecting the colored lights of the tree. I slipped over quietly, picked up the box only to find a new wrapping job by my mom. Layers and layers and layers of clear packing tape enclosing the pretty paper. My wondrous gift of car audio was going to be nearly impossible to open on Christmas morning.
Christmas morning came and with some help of sharp pair of scissors I was able to cut into the sound of the season that would need to be installed in my car. But as I reflect, this story makes me think that many of us wrap our gift of love in packaging that makes it hard to get into. Inside of us is something wonderful, beautiful with sights and sounds of sweetness. Yet, on top of the greens and reds of wrapping paper is tightly wound taped up hearts and lives that keep people out and keep the gift in.
The disciple Jesus loved, John, penned these words in his first letter: Dear friends, if God so loved us, then[ac] we also ought to love one another. 1 John 4:11
Ought to is one of those expressions that gives choice, but implies there really is not one. When mama says “you ought to clean your room” it is properly translated clean your room or you are grounded. When a teacher says “you ought to do your homework.” It can be assumed he or she is saying, unless you plan on failing, get it done. So John’s “ought to” seems to leave the door open to not loving one another, but it really closes the case. Jesus spoke it as a command. John relays the message as an implied “it is best”.
So this season, wrap the gifts, put them under the tree. Place pretty bows and paper all around them. But leave your heart open. Leave your love unwrapped as a gift to be given a way. A gift that can be easily opened. A gift that can be shared.
While we celebrate the greatest gift wrapped in “swaddling clothes” lying in a manager. The Christ child came to be a gift, unwrapped for the world to receive as Lord, Savior, healer, friend, and greatest gift. It is because of this love…we stay unwrapped.
