The Gift of Giving
*Article updated 16th December 2022.
Christmas has swung round again. Time to buy gifts (if you haven’t already) for the people you love and hold dear. Time to set a budget, put a price on your affections, remember how to wrap (that may just be me!) and avoid looking at your bank balance. Then gather the hoard of gifts together and place them under a decorated tree until the relevant people are encountered over the festive season.
We give gifts at Christmas and we do it in some wonderfully eccentric ways, with curious motivations and interesting outcomes. One of my favourite kind of Christmas gifts could be entitled the
“I’ve no idea what this person likes but I need to get them something for around a tenner gift.”
I’m sure you’ll have had one of these over the years? Perhaps from a well intentioned auntie you’ve not seen for a while — who, despite your recent interest in death metal, gets you socks and shortbread. These gifts are perfectly fine unless you’re in the same room on receiving and are required to make positive noises and facial expressions by way of a response. “That’s great, thanks”, you say through pursed lips, eyes wide like you’ve just witnessed a murder. But sometimes a big awesome gift can be just as bad as an “anything for a tenner” gift when the gesture is not reciprocated. You know, when the missus gets her fella the Rolex watch he’s wanted for the last ten years with a deep and meaningful message engraved on the back and the fella has nothing but an awkward “I thought we weren’t getting each other anything this year” in response. We give big and lavish, we give small and tight. We give with reluctance, through gritted teeth and we give bountifully like it is the last day on earth. We give with romantic festive abandon and we give out of a dusty mournful purse.
But why do we give at all? Really, why give anything to anyone else? Surely it must go against some basic rules of human nature.
As we handed out Samaritan’s purse shoeboxes at the entrance to Xscape this Christmas the public certainly seemed engaged with this question. Often wandering over with extreme caution and puzzled expression, understandably expecting a sales pitch or something similar. “What is it?” What do we do with it?” they asked. “Take it, fill it with gifts and it will be sent to children in another part of the world with little or nothing” was the reply. Then just like that, they did. Loads of them. Nearly 140 in the end. Joe public going well out of their way and spending their hard earned cash to bring joy to some child they’ll never see. One lady came over from Wakefield with her young daughter, having spent over a hundred pounds. Shopping bags bursting with gifts and toys. She stopped for an hour to make up six boxes. So many people, so very kind. But why?
It turns out there may well be some good grounds for our gift culture. I’ll reference an article from psychology today which describes our disposition to giving being born out of an evolutionary desire to care for our group or tribe. They use grandiose terminology for this simple selflessness. Nepotistic altruism, reciprocal altruism and moral altruism. If you have a spare fortnight, look them up. The basic premise is even though the giving of a gift means an immediate loss for the individual, the group will benefit and therefore, in the long term, so will you. So we give to look after our group, and ultimately ourselves. That’s the theory anyway, not mine… Mr Darwin was his name.
This got me thinking on a story Jesus tells which I think sheds some light on selflessness and why we like to give. It’s about a good Samaritan. Jesus was telling the tale because he had told a crowd of people that to know God was to love their neighbours! But one of them wanted Jesus to be more specific about who that was. The story sounds nice to us; we know the Samaritans, they’re the nice volunteers that help people, right? Well, maybe now in Britain but not then in Jerusalem. Jesus is telling a yarn to offend. It’s about a Jew getting beaten up… and a Samaritan, his worst enemy (think Israel and Palestine today) being the guy who stops to save him, who crosses over the boundary. Or to tease out our “psychology today” thinking, helps someone from another group. Then he not only keeps him alive, but lavishly cares for his keep. Here’s how Jesus describes what he did.
‘A Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
I’d never stopped to think about the name of the charity we’ve been helping; Samaritan’s Purse. Him… and his purse. This purse is not like a Yorkshireman’s wallet; it runs deep, overspills with kindness and would probably leave a tip. This act of kindness is not just lavish love, its lavish love for someone he should hate, someone from the other group. The Samaritan’s act of love gains him nothing. In fact it increases his vulnerability. It’s going to take some big worded psychological study to explain this! To love your group is one thing and from a human perspective that’s understandable. But to love people who want your demise, well that’s not human at all, that’s Godly.
When I see people hurrying round to grab presents for the people they love, I’m encouraged. I see good in people and I’m reminded that humans aren’t so bad after all. But when I see people rushing round to spend hard earned cash on people they’ve never met, with boxes that burst open, I start to think not only of good people, but of a good God.
That’s what Christmas is really all about.
Come and hear more about him this Christmas at one of our events listed below.
Ash Gibson, Assistant Pastor, Christchurch Xscape
Sunday 11th December, 4.30pm — Youth Service
Sunday 18th December, 4.30pm — Family Nativity Service
Saturday 24th December, 4.30pm — Carol Service
