The Gift That Speaks: Gold
Every Christmas carries a certain, special kind of glow. Lights shimmer, ornaments catch the warmth of the room, and everything feels just a little more golden. Somewhere in the background (at least in my mind) Burl Ives is singing, “Silver and gold, silver and gold..” We associate gold with celebration—with value, honor, and something worth treasuring. It’s the precious metal of crowns and keepsakes, milestones and meaning.
When the wise men arrived in Bethlehem, gold wasn’t brought for decoration or tradition. It wasn’t seasonal sparkle. It was a declaration.
In Part 1 of this series, we saw how frankincense revealed the Priest—the Holy One who would mediate between God and man. In Part 2, myrrh revealed the Sacrifice—the suffering Savior who was born to die. The final gift speaks not of incense or burial, but of authority. Gold reveals the King.
The world was waiting for a warrior.
God sent a tiny baby.
And somehow, the wise men saw what so many others had missed—a King worthy of gold.
In the ancient world, gold was the standard gift for royalty. It symbolized power, purity, wealth, and divine authority. Kings were crowned with it. Thrones were adorned with it. Kingdoms were measured by it. So when the wise men laid this third gift at the feet of a baby, they were making a significant proclamation: This child reigns, not just over Israel or Judea, but over all nations.
In the Old Testament, Israel longed for a king. They believed a human ruler could solve all of their problems—provide security, establish identity, and give visible leadership. Behind the curtain of their desire, however, was something deeper: a longing to have their needs met apart from full dependence on God. In their weakness, human strength felt safer than divine sufficiency. God allowed kings to rule, but He never intended them to replace Him. In Deuteronomy 17:14-20, God outlined what a king should be: humble, obedient, dependent, and submitted to God’s law. A king who ruled under God’s authority, not instead of it. A shepherd who would point people to the Lord of all creation.
Israel’s kings failed. Over and over. Again and again.
But Jesus didn’t.
He’s the true and better King—perfect, righteous, and eternal. John calls Him the “King of kings and Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:16). His authority isn’t borrowed or temporary. It’s absolute and unending. And yet, when He arrived, He definitely didn’t look the part.
Palm Sunday exposes how deeply misunderstood Jesus’s kingship was. The crowds in Jerusalem waved palm branches, a symbol of victory, and shouted Hosanna! They expected a political Messiah—one who would shatter Roman rule and restore Israel’s earthly power. Instead, Jesus arrived riding on a donkey. No army. No armor. He didn’t come to seize a throne; He came to surrender Himself. His coronation wouldn’t happen in a palace, but on a cross. The people hoped for a crown of gold, but Jesus was moving toward a crown of thorns. His kingdom wouldn’t be built by force, but by sacrifice. The victory they imagined would come through domination, but His would come through death.
Jesus didn’t reject kingship. He redefined it.
Israel was meant to live as a theocracy—a people governed directly by God Himself. Jesus came to restore that reality. When questioned by Pilate, He said plainly, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). His kingdom isn’t political. It’s spiritual. It doesn’t advance by force, but surrender. It doesn’t promise comfort, but transformation. If offers something every heart yearns for.
Isaiah prophesied: “For to us a child is born. . .and He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6). Peace. Peace isn’t the absence of trouble. It’s the presence of the King. Under His rule, we experience shalom—wholeness, rest, harmony, and restored relationship with God. Not because He makes life easy, but because He reigns over it all.
When the King was born, not everyone responded the same way:
Herod opposed Him. Threatened by Jesus’s authority, Herod chose power over surrender. He clung to control, even at the cost of innocent lives.
The religious leaders dismissed Him. They knew the Scriptures but remained indifferent. Their comfortable familiarity bred apathy. Ultimately, their indifference proved just as dangerous as hostility.
The wise men bowed. They traveled far, humbled themselves low, and worshiped. They gave their gold not out of obligation, but recognition. Worship was the only fitting response to the true King.
What about you?
Which response describes YOU?
Do you resist His rule when it challenges your comfort?
Do you ignore His voice when obedience feels costly?
Or do you surrender—joyfully, humbly, and willingly—placing everything at His feet?
The wise men didn’t bring gifts to impress a king—they brought gifts because they recognized one. Gold completes what frankincense and myrrh began to tell us. Together, they formed a sermon long before Jesus ever preached one. Priest. Sacrifice. King. Heaven’s message wrapped in earthly treasure.
Today we’re invited to do what the wise men did. To kneel. To open our hands. To place before Him the things we cling to most. May we be a people who offer Him more than words. The cradle leads to the cross, and the cross leads to the crown. And that crown belongs to Jesus alone.
King Jesus, we come to You as the wise men once did—hands open, hearts bowed. We bring no gold of our own worth, only lives shaped by Your grace. Teach us to honor You not just with words, but with surrender. You are our Priest, drawing us near when we wander. You are our Sacrifice, who bore what we could never carry. You are our King, reigning with authority, mercy, and peace. Rule in every place we’ve tried to keep control. Teach us to surrender our crowns. Show us the holy joy of laying it all at Your feet. May the gifts we offer—our obedience, trust, and worship—reflect the glory of the One who was born to save, suffer, and reign. Amen.