In this Salvationist.ca series, Captain Amy Reardon, Editor of Young Salvationist, U.S.A. National Headquarters, and Dr. James Read, Executive Director of The Salvation Army Ethics Centre in Winnipeg, dialogue about moral and ethical issues. The current conversation is about Christmas gift-giving.

Dear Jim,

When I was growing up, my family had lavish Christmases. We had no extended family; everything came from Mom and Dad. I remember how my mother’s eyes would shine as we opened our gifts. She loved to give. I’m not sure who received more pleasure: the givers or the recipients. Either way, we were all pretty happy on Christmas Day.

When I became a parent, I couldn’t dream of doing anything “less” for my kids. Every December, I dragged my husband, Rob, from store to store. I was never sure I had enough, but for years I bought far too much. Eventually it began to grate on me that some items were given attention on Christmas Day and never seen again. So many gifts were received that the kids actually forgot about some of them within days. I grew tired of the waste, and more mindful of the needs of other people.

My youngest son’s teacher recently shared a Thomas Jefferson quote with me: “The greatest gift a parent can give a child is the gift of want.” Though my children were spoiled at Christmas for many years, “want” has often been a familiar concept to them the rest of the year around! It seems to me (and Thomas Jefferson, apparently) that children are deprived when their every desire is quickly met. They miss out on the sense of joy when their longing is fulfilled, or the sense of accomplishment when they have to work for something they really would like to have.

I often think of the lines of a Stevie Wonder song:
Then my only worry was for Christmas what would be my toy.
Even though we sometimes would not get a thing,
We were happy with the joy the day would bring.

I’ve quoted that to my children. But to be honest, I’m just as challenged by it. I love to give, and I don’t mind receiving a Christmas gift or two. Would I be happy with just the joy that Christmas brings? The glorious news of the Incarnation of Christ?

Have we done ourselves a disservice by associating gift-giving with such a holy day? Or are the spiritual implications of giving―as God gave his Son―an important part of the day?

Amy

**
Dear Amy,

We’ve got to talk about the Incarnation and the “spiritual” aspects of gifts. But the part of your letter that really catches my attention is the psychology of gifts. It’s fascinating, isn’t it? And more complex than we realize. It’s not all sweetness and light.

From the receiver’s side, you talk about pleasure, joy and happiness. But also fickleness and ingratitude. You could have added greed, anger, hurt and jealousy. (Are you old enough to remember the Smothers Brothers, and Tommy’s whine, “Mom always liked you best!”?)

You remind me that the giver’s psychology is complex, too. I can picture your mother delighting in your delight on Christmas morning. I’ve been there as a parent. Those are the times when Jesus doesn’t need to prove that it’s more blessed to give than to receive. They are great experiences. But as a parent who was also a child, I can also identify with the feeling that I need to compete with my parents by giving my kids more than my parents gave me. Surely that’s not what the Apostle Paul had in mind when he said to outdo each other in doing good, is it?

Then there are the “generous donors” whose motivation seems largely about getting their picture in the paper or getting naming rights on a big homeless shelter. If I were homeless I’d rather the billionaire gave out of self-interest than not at all, but still.…

Much worse, there are those whose gifts demean or humiliate the recipients. I can still remember what it felt like, as a child, to be treated as a charity case.

And let’s talk about those gifts we give because they are “good for” the person we give them to. I hear what you’re saying about the “gift of want,” and I know you’ve got a point, but somehow a lump of coal in my stocking on Christmas morning would be hard to feel good about. It may teach me an important lesson, and it may be what I merit, but is Christmas a time to be measuring what people deserve?

Moses Maimonides was a brilliant medieval rabbi-physician-philosopher (affectionately nicknamed “Rambam”!). As Julie Salamon explains in her very readable book on giving, Rambam’s Ladder, it’s the complexity of human psychology and our propensity to let sin distort the good of giving that led Maimonides to teach that gifts given anonymously—gifts in which the giver doesn’t know who is on the receiving end and the receiver doesn’t know who’s on the giving end—are just about the highest form of gift exchange. I follow him. But still, that doesn’t feel to me like the message of Christmas either.

What do you think? What kind of gift was God giving at Bethlehem?

Jim

**
Dear Jim,

Now that I think of it, God was giving a gift that made both himself and us happy. God surely celebrated because he knew what the Incarnation meant for us. In other words, he rejoiced on our behalf. I think my mother’s Christmas joy is a little picture of God’s joy over the gift he gave. She was practically giddy with anticipation as we unwrapped each gift, waiting to see our reactions. She was happy because she knew their gifts would make us happy. Wouldn’t you guess that God’s heart was full on that first Christmas day, knowing how important his gift was for us? Can’t you just imagine him hovering over the earth, counting down the seconds until Mary’s labour was complete, then sending his angel choir to express both his joy and ours?

But there is a deeper significance to that first Christmas gift. Not only was it for our sakes, it was for God’s own sake. Since the fall in the Garden of Eden, God had longed to be reunited with humanity. Finally, the Holy Baby was born. The Incarnate Christ restores all willing souls to their Maker. The salvation provided ensures that we will live in fellowship with God through eternity, which is, above all, what he wanted. The most extraordinary gift ever had a reciprocal effect! Funny, isn’t it? We judge a person’s motivation for gift-giving if we think the giver receives too great a satisfaction in return. Yet who would cast judgment on God’s motive?

If we were to use the gift of the Holy Baby as the model for all gifts, we would indeed give gifts that are “good for” the receiver. Not in the way that spinach is good for you, but in the way that swimming on a hot summer day is good for you—it’s healthy and you want it. We’d also take credit for the gift (not give it anony-mously), and show unabashed delight at giving it—as God demonstrated when he sent the angel choir. Our motives would be pure. If a donor gives money to a cause because he really wants to better the condition of his fellow humans, then I say, let him enjoy giving his gift. If it pleases him, let him stand before the recipient with a big, happy grin on his face, and they can enjoy the moment together. But if he gives for the purpose of being noticed, if he gives to be thanked, then his gift may be wonderful, but the giving of it is diminished. The giver himself is diminished.

There are a few special presents I hope to get for my family members this Christmas. They will know who bought them. I may even recount stories of the great lengths involved in acquiring them! We will enjoy the gifts and the fun they bring. But I will try my best, Jim, to help my boys value the gift of Christ above all. Maybe if they can see that he is what I most cherish, they’ll eventually come to feel the same way.

Amy

**
Dear Amy,

This is good stuff. And I feel that you’ve really only begun. There is so much more that could be said about the gift of Jesus, isn’t there? That is the great thing about some gifts—they are endlessly fascinating. You keep turning them over and exploring them and finding surprising challenges and new delights.

It’s what you say about gifts as tokens of love or invitations to a loving relationship that resonates most deeply with me. Every year I am blown away by the beginning of John’s Gospel. “The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighbourhood” is the way Eugene Peterson translates it. I really am gripped by this. It’s so much more than suburbanites like me serving turkey and stuffing to the “needy masses” who live across town. It’s God showing he doesn’t turn his nose up at our messy house. It’s God being vulnerable, risking being misunderstood and rejected. It’s God making himself available for a heart-to-heart.

My parents never gave me a better gift than to introduce me to Jesus. Honestly. And I think it’s wonderful that your kids will be able to say the same thing about you and Rob. Merry Christmas!

Jim