Gold, Frankincense & Myrrh?
Then one of the Magi knelt down at his feet
          And gave him a present of gold.
                    But, why would he bring something fit for a king
                              To a boy who’s a year or two old?
                    Surprising — this gift — for one born in a barn,
                              To parents — unwed at his birth.
                    His parents were poor — they were common, for sure,
                              So the gold doesn’t seem down to earth.
 
                    But gold was the measure of power back then,
                              As gold is the standard today.
                    And gold was the best — standing out from the rest — 
                              For it neither would rust nor decay.
                    And gold was the gift that was given to kings — 
                              A sign of respect for their reign;
                    The Magi had trekked many miles in respect
                              For this King of the Jews with no name.
 
Another brought frankincense into the house
          And knelt at the young child’s feet.
                    From lands to the east came the incense of priests:
                              For its fragrance to heaven was sweet.
                    Great gift — as perfume, for a woman of means,
                              Or a doctor, with patients to heal.
                    Or maybe, instead, for embalming the dead — 
                              For its purposes had broad appeal.
 
                    God wanted the Jews to burn incense to Him,
                              And sacrifice only their best;
                    Each morning and night the high priests would alight
                              Their censers that He might be blessed.
                    How fitting that God would replace these old laws
                              By sending His own sacrifice:
                    No more did He yearn for their incense to burn,
                              For His Son — on the cross — paid the price.
 
The last of the Magi pulled myrrh from a box,
          Encrusted with gems and with stone.
                    You’d rightly presume that expensive perfume
                              Was the last thing a young boy would own.
                    Now what in the world were they thinking about?
                              Although no expense had been spared,
                    To follow that star for so long and so far,
                              You would think they’d come better prepared.
                   
                    As sweet as the fragrance of frankincense was,
                              Quite bitter the taste was of myrrh;
                    Combine it with wine — and it helped dull the mind
                              And the drink would make suffering a blur.
                    So, Jesus was offered this myrrh as a child,
                              And then on the cross, once again.
                    Refusing to drink, He refused, then, to shrink
                              From the pain and the sin borne from men.
On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him.
Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Matthew 2:11 (NIV)