Imagine if you will a large Christmas tree demanding the attention of every person in a warm living room Christmas morning.  Under that tree sit gifts of every size you can imagine. Each one wrapped in paper and bows as beautiful as the tree itself. Each one marked with a tag designating both giver and receiver.
At just the prescribed time, the one designated to pass out all the gifts puts the gift giving all in motion. Gifts leave their place under the tree and begin to stack up and the feet of jolly people young and old.  But this year, after all the other gifts are passed out, there is one large gift, humbly wrapped, leaning up against the wall. The person handing out the gifts, picks it up and scours it looking for the tag needed to get it to the right person. Finding none, they hold it up and ask if anyone knows whose gift it is? Not receiving any direction, the person takes the gift and leans it back against the wall.
After all the other gifts are opened, one young boy runs over to the gift still wrapped by the tree. “Can I open it?” “I guess,” says his mom. The gift is opened and everyone gasp with delight. It is beautiful. Words cannot describe it. The kids and adults alike stare with awe. But whose is it? Who is it for? No one knows and so the gift remains in all it beauty just laying under the tree.
That is what the Christmas story is like if we do not understand who it is for. It remains a once humbly wrapped gift revealed to be gorgeous still sitting under the tree. We may be able to describe it. We may marvel at it. But if no one takes it home, it is sad. It is heartbreaking.
Take it home. It is meant for you. It was given to you. And tell everyone else the same.
