Eve of the Nativity.C.24
Luke 2:1-20
The Rev. Melanie McCarley

One of my favorite parts of Christmas is the wrapping of gifts. On rare occasions I will put something in a gift bag—but my preference is wrapping paper—over which I spend an absurd amount of time considering before choosing; and not just the paper, I like to tie things up with ribbons and a bow. There’s something about the care and attention of wrapping a gift that I find thoroughly delightful. In the wrapping there is time to think about the gift as well as the recipient, how the gift will be received, and the joy that came with deciding that this—above all else—is the perfect gift. And, it leads me, on this holy night, to reflect on this often spoken—but seldom considered line from the story of the Birth of our Savior. “And Mary gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger…”

A swaddling cloth was a long strip of cloth, used to wrap the infant tightly, in order to provide security and prohibit movement. The practice of swaddling newborns crosses cultural lines and can be traced to the earliest civilizations. Archaeologists have found tiny carved figurines of swaddled babies dating back thousands of years before the birth of Christ. For centuries, parents believed that wrapping infants tightly in place helped their limbs to grow straighter. If you were, by chance, to come across an unswaddled infant—you would most likely assume the child to be either abandoned or uncared for. So, for us to know that Jesus was wrapped in swaddling cloth—is to know that he was a child, much like any other child, and that he was cared for by his parents.

But back to the wrapping. Centuries ago in Japan, there began the ancient art of furoshiki. Feudal lords needed a practical way to bundle their belongings while using the shogun bathhouse, and the solution they came up with was to wrap their belongings in cloth, and display, on the outer side—for all to see, their family crest, to identify whose items belonged to whom.

Over the centuries, people adapted furoshiki into a beautiful means of presenting gifts. The cloth is folded and tied in deliberate, creative ways, inviting the recipient to pause and appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the packaging before opening it.

Which brings us back to swaddling cloth. The angels, speaking to the shepherds point out the swaddling cloth as a sign saying: “This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”

That child, of course, is the baby Jesus. And, he is a gift for all humankind. Which I hope will lead you to consider how you receive gifts during this holy time of year. We all know that not all gift exchanges conclude with a happy ending. As we grow older, too many of us lose the ability to open our gifts with unguarded delight. Along with the years comes the understanding that some gifts, no matter how beautifully wrapped, come with strings attached, obligations, burdens and expectations that cannot be met. And far too often feelings of guilt, unworthiness and mistrust ensue. For some people, receiving a gift doesn’t come with a feeling of joy, but the wish it had never been offered to begin with.

So, how will you approach that infant, wrapped in bands of cloth, lying in a manger this Christmas? For he is God’s gift to you and all humankind. In that manger is hope, promise and reconciliation. In a word – salvation. Here, in the quaint stable is the gift of new life, and the assurance of a new heaven and a new earth. Quite simply, the promise of God’s love—bestowed upon shepherds and kings alike. Given for each of us to receive with open hearts and willing hands—with the kind of delight reserved for children.

The beloved author of Charlotte’s Web, E.B. White once lamented, “To perceive Christmas through its wrapping becomes more difficult with every year.” I’m not sure I agree. Though I suspect White was expressing frustration with the tinsel and trappings of the holidays—which are displayed earlier and earlier, and all too often have little to nothing to do with the real reason for celebration, there’s something about the wrapping itself that holds a mystery—one worth unveiling, a hope and a joy that can belong to each of us this Christmas.

Consider that this tiny child, Jesus, whom we welcome this day will, at the end of his earthly life, once again be wrapped in strips of cloth, and laid (this time) not in a manger, but in a tomb. However, the story ends with the image of the cloths being left behind, set aside by the risen Christ, who then—and now, continues to extend to us the gift of the promise of life and the love of God in heaven and earth. This Christmas, I hope that you will receive this gift with the heart of a little child. Children do not question their place as ones worthy of receiving gifts. Children boldly believe in the beauty of unearned kindness—they are excellent recipients of grace! Delight, this year, in both the giving as well as the receiving of gifts, and know that the greatest gift that has been given is the one in a manger, wrapped this night in swaddling cloth—God’s sign of love for you and the world in which live. In Jesus’ name. Amen.