Additional Resources

THE STORY OF THE GIFTS

[The following drama was inspired by Paul Flucke's story that first appeared in the Christian Leader (December 1985). This version was written by Adrienne Redekopp and was first presented at the River East Mennonite Brethren Church, Winnipeg (Manitoba) on December 24, 2014. It is posted here with permission. You are welcome to use it or some adaptation in your particular setting. See Notes at the end of this Worship Resource for a general disclaimer and a permissions notice.]

PART ONE

Narrator: The story has been told for centuries now. The story of the wisemen – wisePEOPLE – and the gifts they brought to the newborn king – how they saw the star and followed it for weeks, across mountain and valley and desert. In stately procession on their swaying beasts, they came and placed their treasures at the feet of the infant Savior.

And the gifts? Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But you knew that!

Or so you think. And so you’ve been told.

But perhaps you were wrong. Perhaps the story is incomplete. You see, the story was told by those who had seen the wise ones on their journey. And by those who stood by in wonderment as the wise ones dismounted from their weary camels and strode to the door of the stable. Those who watched as the wise ones held their expensive offerings high before them. And then watched the door close behind them.

That much the world saw. And that is the story they told.

But that may not be the whole story.

If you listen very carefully and very quietly, I will tell you what I have heard. What I think happened when they entered the stable. What I believe to be the secret of the gifts.

Let me set the scene: it is late, and three travelers approach a stable, really a cave, carved into a hillside. Each traveler has dismounted from a camel, hot, sweaty, and tired after a long journey.

[Wise people walk down the aisle, eyes forward, in procession. Serious faces, oblivious to everyone around.]

They walk steadily, surely, ready to meet a king. As they reach their destination, they look at each other, silently asking who will approach first. Gaspar – let’s call him Garry – steps forward.

We are too far from times past for you to understand the clothing the wise ones wore, those that so well suited their professions, so let me alter things ever so slightly so that you will understand.

After all, this is a story – right?

Garry wears a suit of fine cloth, tailored to fit him “to a T.” At his waist, a leather belt by Hugo Boss, and around his shoulders a cashmere scarf. Garry, you see has lots of cash. (Well protected by the stock market, ahem, palace treasury…)

He pauses at the stable doors. People will say later, “He was praying, I saw his lips move.” But they would be mistaken. They can’t see what I am revealing to you. See right over there? The Angel Gabriel, guards the holy place – and Garry stops to greet her.

Gabriel: And who are you?

Gaspar:  I am Garry, and I’ve come to worship the king.

Gabriel: All who enter here must bring a gift. Do you have gift?

Gaspar: Of course I do. I have brought bars of the purest gold – all with official stamps and serial numbers. See?   (holding up a brief case)

Gabriel: Your gift must be the core of yourself. It must be something precious to your soul.

Gaspar: And that’s what I’ve brought. (Confidently; the hint of a smile upon his lips.)

Gabriel: So it will be. (And she, too, smiles as she holds the door for Gaspar to enter.)

Narrator: A little baby lies in a manger, surrounded by hay and animal smells. The light of a small lamp falls across the tiny face. Watch as Garry offers his gift…

[He goes to one knee and opens the briefcase, then jumps up and slowly pulls out a hammer.]

Look at his shock as he discovers, not the gold he expected, but a heavy workman’s hammer. And listen – he hears the soft voice of Gabriel again:

Gabriel: So it is what it is. You have brought the core of yourself.

Gaspar: (Angrily) A hammer? What kind of joke is this?

Gabriel: This is no joke. What you hold in your hands is the hammer of your greed. You have used it to pound wealth from those who work so that you can live in luxury. You have used it to build a mansion for yourself while others live in the streets. You have raised it against friends and made them into enemies – and you have destroyed your enemies with it.

Narrator: Garry is stunned – and saddened. Hanging his head in shame, he turns toward the door, but Gabriel blocks his way.

Gabriel: You have not offered your gift.

Gaspar: What - this? I can’t give this to Him!   (in horror, looking at the hammer)

Gabriel: But you must. That is why you came. You cannot take it back with you. It is too heavy. You have carried it for many years and now your arms ache with its weight. You must leave it here, or it will destroy you.

Gaspar: The hammer is too heavy. A baby couldn’t lift this!

Gabriel: He can indeed. Though not in the way you imagine.

Gaspar: But it is dangerous. He might bruise his hands or feet – or break something.

Gabriel: That worry, you must leave to heaven. On the path of light, the child will encounter danger. But be assured, God’s presence will go with him.

Narrator: Slowly, Garry turns to where the Christ child nests.

[He carefully places the ugly hammer at the baby’s feet and hurries away.]

No wonder he rushes to leave the stable. But look at the smile blooming across his face!

The waiting world sees only the smile on Garry’s face as he exits the stable. His hands are raised, and new light sparkles in his eyes.

That much the world saw, and so the story is told.

Congregational song: Worship Together #294: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

PART TWO

Narrator: Let’s go back to the stable and see what’s happening there.

Next to step to the door of the stable is Melchior – let’s call her Learned Mel. She is not as well dressed as Garry – she wears the dark robes of a scholar. Her ruffled hair and the furrows in her brow suggest a life lived close to the wisdom of manuscripts, both literary and musical. She is serious, at all costs. She has work hard to be respected. She has learned many lessons the hard way. She, too, pauses before the door. Only Mel can see the angel standing guard. Only Mel can hear her speak.

Gabriel: What have you brought?

Melchior: I bring frankincense, the scent of mysteries and times past.

Gabriel: Your gift must be something precious to your soul.

Melchior: That it is!

Gabriel: So it will be.

[Mel enters and stands breathless before the scene within.]

Narrator: In all her many years of searching for Truth – capital T - Mel has never sensed a presence like this – a light that shines not into your eyes, but into your soul, somehow... that light in the baby...and in the tired, quiet eyes of the baby’s parents as they look on.

She knees to pull out a silver flask of precious ointment from her robes.

[pause]

But the jar is not silver anymore! It is plain old clay, rough and stained, like something dragged up from the basement. Horrified, Mel opens it to smell the contents.

[She leaps to her feet, only to come face to face the angel at the door.]

Melchior: You tricked me! This isn’t what I brought! (spitting words with fury.)

Gabriel: What is it, then?

Melchior: It’s vinegar! (disgusted.)

Gabriel: It is what it is. You have brought the core of yourself.

Melchior: What can you possibly mean?

Gabriel: You bring the bitterness of your heart. You have become poisoned with jealousy and hate. You have carried memories of old hurts for too long. You have held on to your anger, and let it light a fire inside you. You have searched so long for knowledge, but you have allowed yourself to be filled with poison.

[As she hears these words, Mel’s shoulders droop. She turns from Gabriel, swiping away a tear, and trying to hide the ugly jar in her robes. Silently she moves toward the door. Gabriel smiles, and places a hand on Mel’s arm.]

Gabriel: Wait. You must leave your gift.

Melchior: (sighing) I wish I could! I’ve wanted to empty my soul of this bitterness for so long! You were right about everything. But I can’t leave it here! Not for a baby. Babies are full of hope and happiness, not sadness and anger.

Gabriel: You can. And you must, if you want to find healing. Tonight, light has entered your life. Let it stay.

Melchior: But this is bitter and dangerous. What if the child drinks it?

Gabriel: You must leave that worry to heaven. On the path of light, the child will encounter bitterness. But be assured, God’s presence will go with him.

Narrator: So Mel places her gift before the Savior, coming out of the stable with heaven’s light in her eyes. The waiting world sees only that the lines on her brow have relaxed, and she looks ready to explore new ideas.

That much the world saw. And so the story is told.

Congregational song:

PART THREE

Narrator: Look at the stable! I see one more visitor there, waiting to make his offering. He strides forward now, his back as straight as a tree, shoulders firm as a barricade. His uniform is homemade, well-used and proudly worn. He walks like someone born with authority. This is Balthasar – but we’ll call him Bill. He has commanded many battles. He is a leader to the core. He knows how and when things should be done. Before him, he holds a brass-colored box, obviously heavy, obviously important.

A murmur runs through the watching crowd as he hesitates before the door. “Look!” they whisper, “Even the Bill stops to pay his respects.”

But we know that it is Gabriel who has caused Bill to pause. And we know, too, the question she asks.

Gabriel: Have you a gift?

Balthasar: Of course. I bring a gift of myrrh, the most precious thing my team could find. Many have fought and died for centuries for this. It is the essence of the rarest plant.

Gabriel: But is it the essence of you?

Balthasar: I bring nothing but my best.

Gabriel: So it will be. Enter, and we will see.

Narrator: As he enters, the tender humanity of the baby king pierces Bill’s heart, like no adult opponent ever could.

Closing his eyes, he kneels and shuffles forward through the straw. Quietly. Carefully.

[Then, bowing his face to the ground, he slowly releases his grip on his gift, raises his head, and opens his eyes. He opens his gift - and before the baby is a machete.]

See how the smooth handle of the knife glistens with the sweat of his palms? How the razor-sharp edges of its steely tip catch the flickering lamplight?

[He gasps, grabbing the sword and leaping for the door.]

Balthasar: This isn’t my gift! Some enemy has switched it!

Gabriel: That is truer than you know. A thousand enemies have cast their spell on you and turned your soul into a knife.

Balthasar: You think this is a joke? I’ll show you funny! (raising his fist as if to strike.)

Gabriel: (not flinching) Living only for power, you become powerless. Every battle you win only leads you to another, with an even worse enemy.

Balthasar: Do you think I like to kill? You’re an angel – what do you know about life here on earth? I defend my people! If I hadn’t led them into battle, knives drawn, we would have been destroyed. Even now, enemies try to invade and destroy us. As soon as I leave this holy place, I have to leave on a new mission. I have to find more arms, buy more knives…

Gabriel: More? … More than what?

Balthasar: More than we have now, more than our enemies have.

Gabriel: And what will they do then? (softly). Will your enemies need more, too?

Narrator: Bill hears the angel’s words and they seem to echo in the deepest places of his soul. Hasn’t he often asked himself the same thing? Doubt catches him for a moment – but only a moment.

[Taking control of himself, he reaches down and grasps the knife – and turns to go.]

Balthasar: I can’t leave this here. My people need it. We can’t afford to give it up.

Gabriel: Are you sure that you can afford to keep it?

Balthasar: But our enemies could destroy us if we drop our weapons. I can’t take that risk.

Gabriel: Yes, it is as risk (slowly). But your way is a certainty – a certainty that the cycle will continue. That death will win.

Narrator: Once again, Bill hesitates. His sweat drips onto the blade as he waits – as Gabriel’s words battle with centuries of warrior instinct.

[A long moment passes.]

[Finally, Bill opens his fingers, and the knife drops to the floor.]

Balthasar: But here? Is it safe to leave it here? (looking at child, whispering)

Gabriel: (releasing a long-held breath, whispering) This is a safe place to leave it.

Balthasar: But he is a child, and the knife is sharp. It could pierce his flesh.

Gabriel: That fear you must leave to heaven. On the path of light, the child’s decisions will be guided by love, rather than safety. But be assured, God’s presence will go with him.

Narrator: Bill leaves the stable, his arms hanging gently at his sides. He walks first to Garry and Mel.

[Bill raises his arms, and embraces them as brother and sister.]

And look! He walks to each one gathered with outstretched arms, greeting them as long lost friends and family. Finding the light within.

[They walk out, smiling in greeting to people they pass. Perhaps even shaking a hand or two. Narrator to start as they’re almost to the back.]

That much the world saw. And so the story has been told.

How much did you see? What story will you tell? As you come before the Christ child, what do you bring – and how will he transform you?

Is this the story I wonder? This is the story I tell. This is the truth that I hold.

But what do I know? I’m only 58 years old.

Congregational song: Joy to the World