A Fourth Church Sermon by John W. Vest

December 24, 2006 | Christmas Eve 6:00 p.m.

My Two Front Teeth and a Red Ryder BB Gun

John W. Vest
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Luke 2:1–20

What do you want for Christmas?

I’m sure you have a list, and you’ve probably checked it twice. At 6:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve, you had better be finished with your shopping. Or perhaps you’re here this evening to take a break from your last-minute dash to the finish. You’ve come to this sanctuary of hope and peace, surrounded on all sides by stores that taunt and tempt you, you’ve come seeking shelter from the storms of Christmas on Michigan Avenue. If you or someone you love is desperate for a PlayStation 3 or a T.M.X. Elmo and you’ve come here for a Christmas Eve miracle, I’m sorry to disappoint you.

What do you want for Christmas?

It’s a question I’ve asked and have been asked countless times. After all, Christmas is a time of giving, and despite our attempts to downplay it, we must be honest with ourselves and admit that Christmas is also a time of receiving. Regardless of what our humility compels us to claim to the contrary, we all love to receive gifts. If we’re even more honest with ourselves, we know that we all love to receive good gifts.

And so in the weeks or months before Christmas, we go about the business of letting people know precisely what we want for Christmas. Sometimes we are direct. We make detailed lists complete with exact sizes and colors. Much like an engaged couple registering for wedding gifts, in our age of Internet shopping we can make wish lists on Amazon.com that our loved ones can simply choose from with a few mouse clicks, and if they pay a little extra they can ensure that the gift will miraculously appear on our doorstep, fully wrapped, before Christmas. Other times, of course, we are less direct. We drop subtle and not-so-subtle hints that we hope our family and friends will pick up on. Sometimes they actually do.

What do you want for Christmas?

I was shocked this year to discover that many of the youth that I work with here at Fourth Church had never heard of the classic Christmas song, “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth,” that woeful ballad of a child longing to return to the normalcy of a full set of teeth. More familiar, I suspect, is that wonderful holiday film, A Christmas Story. Surely you know the tale of a young boy in the ’40s named Ralphie who wants nothing more than a Red Ryder BB Gun, or to be more precise, an “Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle.” If you’ve somehow managed to miss this movie, turn on your television when you get home tonight for the annual twenty-four hour marathon.

Those of you familiar with this holiday staple know that the Red Ryder BB Gun is the desire of young Ralphie’s heart. He longs for it. He wants it more than anything. He needs it. And his methods of trying to get it are far from subtle. He slips an advertisement into his mother’s magazine; he concocts a story about a dangerous animal that needs to be vanquished; he writes an essay about it in school; he begs Santa at the department store; and, of course, he comes right out and says it in plain English: “I want a Red Ryder BB Gun!” But at every turn, poor Ralphie is rebuffed: “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!”

I don’t want to spoil too much of the ending, but when Ralphie finally gets the BB gun, he also gets a valuable lesson. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. You see, A Christmas Story is a modern parable of desire and the reality that so often presents itself once we get what we think we need so badly. Each of us can relate to Ralphie. We all have those things that we long for as if our lives depend on them.

Ralphie reminds me of another young boy, who chooses to remain anonymous this evening. His story also takes place way back in history, sometime during the mid ’80s. This boy had two passions when it came to toys: Star Wars and G. I. Joe. Back in the dark ages before the Internet, he used to flip through catalogs and pick out the newest and coolest items that he just had to have. On every Christmas and birthday, his army of action figures and arsenal of spaceships and fighter jets grew bigger and bigger. One year he got the biggest thing he had ever received: the Cobra Terrordrome! It was the “super realistic fortress” of Cobra, G.I. Joe’s ultimate enemy. It had room for more than fifty figures and was equipped with computer stations, fuel stations, gun ports, an enemy holding area, and a Firebat jet that launched from the middle. It was way cool!

. . . for a little while. Sadly, and much to his parents’ chagrin, less than a year after receiving this awesome gift, the young boy decided that he was too old for such toys and gave it away. He decided that he didn’t really need it anymore.

Friends, the moral of the story is this: I should have at least saved that blasted thing to sell on eBay! One sold this very day for $940. PlayStation 3, by the way, is currently being listed for over $1,000 and increasing by the hour.

No, the real moral is that it’s exceedingly difficult, for children and for adults, to know the difference between needing and wanting.

What do you want for Christmas?

We all have things that we want this Christmas. But what do we really need?

In our culture of affluence, and during this season of celebration and excess, it’s easy to insulate ourselves from the realities of the world in which we live.

For many on this night, Christmas comes half a world away from their homes and those that they love. What must Christmas mean for those members of our armed forces serving in Iraq, Afghanistan, and so many other places throughout the world? What does Christmas mean in places ripped apart by war and threatened by terror, in a world filled with violence, a world in desperate need of the Prince of Peace?

While many of us feast and eat much more than we need during this season, for many in our world—indeed, for many right here in this city and in this building—even the basic necessities of food and shelter are out of grasp. What does Christmas mean for them?

While many families gather together and enjoy each other’s presence, so many others are torn apart and estranged.

For every act of love, there is an act of abuse. For every act of generosity, an act of neglect.

For every person that experiences joy and fellowship, there is another who feels isolation and loneliness.

For every office party we begrudgingly go to, there is someone without a job, who would give anything to make awkward small talk around a punch bowl and participate in a silly Secret Santa gift exchange.

For every child that receives a mountain of gifts, there is one who receives nothing.

Friends, the world needs what the world has always needed, what each of us always needs: love, peace, safety, warmth, health, happiness, hope.

What do you want for Christmas?

Two thousand years ago and a world away, the Jewish people of a small province of the Roman Empire wanted a particular kind of king. They thought they knew what they wanted, what they needed. And they tried to shape their reality according to that vision.

But on a quiet night in a lonely field, a bunch of shepherds looked into the sky and saw something remarkable. Magi from faraway lands were guided by a brightly burning star and followed it to something they probably never expected. In a busy town with no room at the inn, a baby cried in a manger.

We, too, it seems, often want a Christ of our own choosing. We want a Christ that is convenient, a Christ that gives us hope but doesn’t demand too much. A Christ that makes us feel good. A Christ that looks just like us. A Christ that is easily packaged and makes total sense. We think we know what we want, what we need.

But on this night, the Christ we get is the Christ that God wants—and as it turns out, the Christ that we need.

What do you want for Christmas?

I haven’t seen any PlayStations or Elmos appear on the chancel or fall from the sky. But in a few moments, we’ll sing “Away in a Manger” and be transported back to another time and another place. On Christmas Eve, we are reminded that for all of the differences, that time and that place are the same as this time and this place.

In a world of many needs, beyond the delusions of our wants and the vanity of our desires, there is a perfect gift. It is the light of the world, but it is wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. It meets all of our needs, but it is as fragile as a newborn baby.

What do you want for Christmas?

What do you need for Christmas?

Amen.