The Greatest Gift
Sermon given at Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
December 18, 2016
by The Rev. Craig M. Nowak
Recently I was out shopping with my mother and as we met up after wandering around separately in one particular store, she commented how she had noticed in recent years more and more stores marketing things as Hanukkah gifts in addition to Christmas gifts. The tone of her comment was a peculiar blend of amusement and resentment. I kind of shrugged, and responded, “Well its a gift giving holiday too.” She knows that, of course. Turns out she making an observation about the intensity of contemporary marketing. The blend of amusement and resentment I heard in her comment seemed a realization, at some level, of the absurdity of hyper-consumerism and a reaction against the pressure it exerts on our lives and identities.
Indeed this “most wonderful time of the year” comes with a lot of hopes and expectations that have little to do with those lifted up and celebrate through the religious observance of Hanukkah or Christmas. Nowhere is this perhaps more true than with gift giving.
Some of us spend a lot of time obsessing about finding the “perfect gift” or worrying if our gift is too small or too big. We debate with ourselves about whether to give a practical or frivolous gift. And sometimes we worry that a gift is more about us than the intended recipient.
I’ve done all of these and more and you know what? It makes gift giving a chore. Another task to add to an already too long “to-do” list. We can try to rationalize all the stress and tension we feel as evidence of our effort to be thoughtful in our giving, but in the end, we are more likely attempting to dictate an particular outcome, something proven time and again, to be beyond our control. Case in point…How many of us remember or have seen children in our lives toss aside some big expensive toy moments after opening it and go play or make something else from the cheap cardboard box it came in?
So does this mean it doesn’t matter what we give, how big or small our gift is or how much thought we put into selecting it? No, not necessarily. But it does mean we can ease up on ourselves. Because the greatest gift we give or receive may or may not be one we intended or wanted, but is always one we need.
Have you ever had someone thank you or tell you how much something you gave, said or did meant to them? Sometimes the person doing the thanking wasn’t even the person to whom whatever we gave, said or did was directed. Other times, we’re not even aware that we’ve given, said or done anything at all. I’m often surprised by this when it happens, but as I think about the gifts that have meant the most to me over the years, I realize the givers of those gifts might be surprised too to learn what I have actually received.
What’s the first really meaningful gift you remember receiving? One who’s memory or impact remains with you to this day. Who gave it to you? Do you think that person has any idea of its impact?
The first truly meaningful gift I remember with any great clarity was a Fisher Price Castle I received one year for Christmas. My parents gave it to me. I loved that castle and played with it for hours on end. I can still picture in my mind. It enlivened my imagination and sparked curiosity in me about history and gave me lifelong interest and appreciation of architecture. As I look back, I was given a toy castle but I received much more than that. I received the gift of wonder. A gift which has enriched my life immeasurably and even saved it, spiritually, in difficult times.
Sometimes we get gifts we’re not sure what to do with. Following a day spent at the farm of a family friend where my father and I and his friend and sons all when dirt bike riding, and admittedly had a good time, my father went out and bought me a minibike. Even though I had fun that day at the farm, I didn’t want a minibike and I didn’t ride it very much. It wasn’t until I was older and learned more about my father’s difficult relationship with his own father growing up that I came to appreciate the minibike in the spirit of spontaneous joy with which it was given. My father gave me a minibike and, as it turns out, the gift of generosity.
Once in a while we give or receive a gift that was not, at least consciously, intended as a gift at all. In middle school I received what I still consider to be one of the most significant gifts I’ve been given in my life. Middle school is difficult for many kids…perhaps even for some of you here this morning… and for some, like me, it was unbearable. I was bullied a lot. At the time there were no zero tolerance policies or even discussions about bullying. “Boys will be boys”, was the typical response if there was a response at all. But one teacher, Mr. LeBlanc…my gym teacher, took notice. He checked in with me, asked if I was okay and offered help. I’m sure Mr. LeBlanc didn’t think of what he offered me as a gift, but what he gave me could not be bought at any price. I was given caring attention and received the gift of blessing, a gift which today informs my theology of wholeness and has shaped my call to ministry.
Perhaps the hardest gifts to receive are the ones disguised as something else. After discovering Unitarian Universalism as an adult I was completely enamored with my new found faith, the congregation I had joined and most of all, my minister who seemed to say and do everything right. Then one Sunday, I realized I was irritated by something she said or didn’t say in a sermon. Shortly thereafter I asked her for something, I don’t remember exactly what anymore, but she turned me down. She apologized saying she just didn’t have the time.
At first I was quite upset and I started to notice other ways in which she didn’t match my initial, albeit illusory, image of who she was. In time I came to realize my disappointment in her was related to her being human, just like me. My illusions about her were a form of objectification, denying the fullness of her humanity. I was given an experience of disappointment yet I also received the gift of gratitude, a renewed appreciation of what it means to be human.
Wonder, generosity, blessing and gratitude aren’t things we can buy, place in a box, wrap up and hand to someone. We can’t hold them in our hand or display them on a shelf. Instead they are some of the inner qualities or perspectives of abundance that are awakened or unwrapped within as we seek and make meaning from the different encounters and situations we experience throughout our lives.
Our reading “All I See Is A Part of Me” offers a light and joyful illustration of unwrapping. The narrator confides, “I used to think that I was small…a little body, that was all.” But things begin to change as encounters and experiences are accumulated and expanded. First a conversation with the sun in which the sun says, “We are one.” And then an encounter with a star that proclaims, “You are larger than you know.” As the narrator explores and reflects on these encounters…”I looked again at all my light And saw shining star was right.”
…. a new perspective emerges…”You are me, and I am you” and the gift of belonging is received.
In our own lives, this unwrapping is not always so quick or easy. Meaning, the gift of a particular situation isn’t always or even often apparent immediately, but takes time, sometimes years to unwrap.
Our lives are filled with experiences pleasant and painful and some of us have had more, sometimes much more, of one than the other. Leading us, understandably, to doubt or resist the very idea that a gift may be hidden within such experiences. In addition, there is a tendency, particularly in pop-psychology and spirituality, to think or even insist that all we need to do is shift our perspective a little to find the gift in a given situation, though this is in fact rarely the case.
The unspoken truth is that such a shift takes sustained effort and support that is hard to find and maintain alone, in isolation or in the chronic absence of basic human needs. The gifts from the stories I shared from my own life took time, and a few took a really long time as well as some help, to unwrap.
And so in closing, I offer to you this observation: We typically open gifts in the presence of others. We do this as a way to more fully share in the experience of giving and receiving which includes loving attention, excitement and the promise of what the Buddhist teacher Sharon Salzburg calls, sympathetic joy, the experience of being happy for another’s happiness. And isn’t that one of the reasons we gather here? To unwrap the greatest gifts, the ones we may or may not want but nevertheless need, in the presence and with the help of those committed to walking together, to sharing in the joys and struggles of life in community. May it be so.
Amen and Blessed Be
Sermon given at Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
December 18, 2016
by The Rev. Craig M. Nowak
Recently I was out shopping with my mother and as we met up after wandering around separately in one particular store, she commented how she had noticed in recent years more and more stores marketing things as Hanukkah gifts in addition to Christmas gifts. The tone of her comment was a peculiar blend of amusement and resentment. I kind of shrugged, and responded, “Well its a gift giving holiday too.” She knows that, of course. Turns out she making an observation about the intensity of contemporary marketing. The blend of amusement and resentment I heard in her comment seemed a realization, at some level, of the absurdity of hyper-consumerism and a reaction against the pressure it exerts on our lives and identities.
Indeed this “most wonderful time of the year” comes with a lot of hopes and expectations that have little to do with those lifted up and celebrate through the religious observance of Hanukkah or Christmas. Nowhere is this perhaps more true than with gift giving.
Some of us spend a lot of time obsessing about finding the “perfect gift” or worrying if our gift is too small or too big. We debate with ourselves about whether to give a practical or frivolous gift. And sometimes we worry that a gift is more about us than the intended recipient.
I’ve done all of these and more and you know what? It makes gift giving a chore. Another task to add to an already too long “to-do” list. We can try to rationalize all the stress and tension we feel as evidence of our effort to be thoughtful in our giving, but in the end, we are more likely attempting to dictate an particular outcome, something proven time and again, to be beyond our control. Case in point…How many of us remember or have seen children in our lives toss aside some big expensive toy moments after opening it and go play or make something else from the cheap cardboard box it came in?
So does this mean it doesn’t matter what we give, how big or small our gift is or how much thought we put into selecting it? No, not necessarily. But it does mean we can ease up on ourselves. Because the greatest gift we give or receive may or may not be one we intended or wanted, but is always one we need.
Have you ever had someone thank you or tell you how much something you gave, said or did meant to them? Sometimes the person doing the thanking wasn’t even the person to whom whatever we gave, said or did was directed. Other times, we’re not even aware that we’ve given, said or done anything at all. I’m often surprised by this when it happens, but as I think about the gifts that have meant the most to me over the years, I realize the givers of those gifts might be surprised too to learn what I have actually received.
What’s the first really meaningful gift you remember receiving? One who’s memory or impact remains with you to this day. Who gave it to you? Do you think that person has any idea of its impact?
The first truly meaningful gift I remember with any great clarity was a Fisher Price Castle I received one year for Christmas. My parents gave it to me. I loved that castle and played with it for hours on end. I can still picture in my mind. It enlivened my imagination and sparked curiosity in me about history and gave me lifelong interest and appreciation of architecture. As I look back, I was given a toy castle but I received much more than that. I received the gift of wonder. A gift which has enriched my life immeasurably and even saved it, spiritually, in difficult times.
Sometimes we get gifts we’re not sure what to do with. Following a day spent at the farm of a family friend where my father and I and his friend and sons all when dirt bike riding, and admittedly had a good time, my father went out and bought me a minibike. Even though I had fun that day at the farm, I didn’t want a minibike and I didn’t ride it very much. It wasn’t until I was older and learned more about my father’s difficult relationship with his own father growing up that I came to appreciate the minibike in the spirit of spontaneous joy with which it was given. My father gave me a minibike and, as it turns out, the gift of generosity.
Once in a while we give or receive a gift that was not, at least consciously, intended as a gift at all. In middle school I received what I still consider to be one of the most significant gifts I’ve been given in my life. Middle school is difficult for many kids…perhaps even for some of you here this morning… and for some, like me, it was unbearable. I was bullied a lot. At the time there were no zero tolerance policies or even discussions about bullying. “Boys will be boys”, was the typical response if there was a response at all. But one teacher, Mr. LeBlanc…my gym teacher, took notice. He checked in with me, asked if I was okay and offered help. I’m sure Mr. LeBlanc didn’t think of what he offered me as a gift, but what he gave me could not be bought at any price. I was given caring attention and received the gift of blessing, a gift which today informs my theology of wholeness and has shaped my call to ministry.
Perhaps the hardest gifts to receive are the ones disguised as something else. After discovering Unitarian Universalism as an adult I was completely enamored with my new found faith, the congregation I had joined and most of all, my minister who seemed to say and do everything right. Then one Sunday, I realized I was irritated by something she said or didn’t say in a sermon. Shortly thereafter I asked her for something, I don’t remember exactly what anymore, but she turned me down. She apologized saying she just didn’t have the time.
At first I was quite upset and I started to notice other ways in which she didn’t match my initial, albeit illusory, image of who she was. In time I came to realize my disappointment in her was related to her being human, just like me. My illusions about her were a form of objectification, denying the fullness of her humanity. I was given an experience of disappointment yet I also received the gift of gratitude, a renewed appreciation of what it means to be human.
Wonder, generosity, blessing and gratitude aren’t things we can buy, place in a box, wrap up and hand to someone. We can’t hold them in our hand or display them on a shelf. Instead they are some of the inner qualities or perspectives of abundance that are awakened or unwrapped within as we seek and make meaning from the different encounters and situations we experience throughout our lives.
Our reading “All I See Is A Part of Me” offers a light and joyful illustration of unwrapping. The narrator confides, “I used to think that I was small…a little body, that was all.” But things begin to change as encounters and experiences are accumulated and expanded. First a conversation with the sun in which the sun says, “We are one.” And then an encounter with a star that proclaims, “You are larger than you know.” As the narrator explores and reflects on these encounters…”I looked again at all my light And saw shining star was right.”
…. a new perspective emerges…”You are me, and I am you” and the gift of belonging is received.
In our own lives, this unwrapping is not always so quick or easy. Meaning, the gift of a particular situation isn’t always or even often apparent immediately, but takes time, sometimes years to unwrap.
Our lives are filled with experiences pleasant and painful and some of us have had more, sometimes much more, of one than the other. Leading us, understandably, to doubt or resist the very idea that a gift may be hidden within such experiences. In addition, there is a tendency, particularly in pop-psychology and spirituality, to think or even insist that all we need to do is shift our perspective a little to find the gift in a given situation, though this is in fact rarely the case.
The unspoken truth is that such a shift takes sustained effort and support that is hard to find and maintain alone, in isolation or in the chronic absence of basic human needs. The gifts from the stories I shared from my own life took time, and a few took a really long time as well as some help, to unwrap.
And so in closing, I offer to you this observation: We typically open gifts in the presence of others. We do this as a way to more fully share in the experience of giving and receiving which includes loving attention, excitement and the promise of what the Buddhist teacher Sharon Salzburg calls, sympathetic joy, the experience of being happy for another’s happiness. And isn’t that one of the reasons we gather here? To unwrap the greatest gifts, the ones we may or may not want but nevertheless need, in the presence and with the help of those committed to walking together, to sharing in the joys and struggles of life in community. May it be so.
Amen and Blessed Be