Gift of Frankincense
A Reflection
What is Worship?
We are defined by what we worship.
"Worship" is one of those words we toss around constantly. Of course, in faith spaces, there is "worship music". Outside of church, the word becomes slang for obsession. Frank Sinatra croons of his lady love, "You are all I long for, all I worship and adore." TikTok stans "worship" their favorite artist. Even in unspoken terms, worshipping or giving your focus obsessively to something consumes the way our culture is structured.
One of my favorite artists, Andy Warhol, understood this better than most. He was fascinated by celebrity culture—the way we elevate personalities and chase them like gods. He even coined the phrase "15 minutes of fame" to capture how fast our obsession lasts. Warhol saw worship everywhere.
Because worship isn't just a religious act, worship is whatever captures our deepest attention. Whatever we treasure is what ultimately shapes us.
Devotion always reveals itself in pursuit, which makes the Magi's story all the more compelling. These priestly astrologers traveled hundreds of miles across deserts, with their caravan of wealth and servants, simply because they believed in the promise behind a star. They were outsiders. They didn't exclusively worship God. But they recognized a sign—and they followed it with the intensity of true worshipers.
Frankincense is not a popular symbol for worship. However, in ancient times, this precious spice from southern Arabia was used in the incense burned by priests inside the Holy of Holies. It symbolized worship rising to God like smoke. This same incense appears in the opening scenes of Luke's version of the Christmas story.
Treasuring Trauma
In Luke 1, we read about a righteous priest named Zachariah and his wife, Elizabeth. They were an elderly couple who were faithful, consistent, and heartbroken. Luke tells us Zachariah and his wife Elizabeth were unable to have children, a deep grief in their culture. Yet his position as priest required him to offer other people's prayers day after day, year after year. Can you imagine? Bringing everyone else's requests before God while your own remained unanswered?
Zachariah enters the Holy of Holies—the most sacred physical space in the Temple—surrounded by incense rising like prayers. But inside, he carries disappointment so heavy it chokes the atmosphere. Then everything shifts.
"An angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense." (Luke 1:11)
After a lifetime of silence, God finally speaks. Gabriel announces that the very prayer Zechariah has given up on will be answered. He and his wife will have a child, a miracle at their age. The impossible has been made possible! This is the moment Zechariah should rejoice—yet look at his response:
"How can I be sure of this? I am an old man, and my wife is well along in years."
(Luke 1:18)
There it is...Cynicism. The quiet killer of worship.
Zechariah had treasured his trauma so much that he couldn't recognize the truth. He had rehearsed his pain for so long that faith felt dangerous. Suddenly, the priest responsible for offering worship had a heart too wounded to worship at all. Are you fueling your faith or your frustration?
The Silent Solve
Gabriel's response is surprising—he removes Zechariah's ability to speak, not as punishment, but as protection. Sometimes God silences what we say in order to heal what we see. The noise of our own doubts drowns out the faint sound of hope.
Zechariah's forced silence wasn't cruel—it was contemplative. It made room for belief to grow again. It trained him to stop reinforcing his disappointment with his own words. Worship is not just about singing. Worship is the direction of your focus, the posture of your heart, the story you tell yourself about God. What we worship—whatever we fix our gaze on—will ultimately define who we become.
Take with You
With as precious as frankincense is, it is shocking that the only way its sweetness can be released is through crushing. In Exodus 30:34–37, God instructs Moses to grind frankincense and mix it with spices to create the sacred incense used in the Tabernacle. The fragrance that filled the Holy Place came only after the resin was broken. That act of crushing foreshadows another: the crushing of Jesus on the cross, whose surrendered body released the aroma of freedom for the whole world. The Magi probably had no idea of the profound significance of their gifts. Remember, they were first headed to Herod's palace. It was customary for dignitaries to exchange large treasure troves of gold and spices. But here, at the toddler feet of the Son of God, these presents are transformed into prophecy.
If frankincense teaches us anything, it's this: the sweetest things God brings out of us often emerge through surrender. Surrender isn't the sexiest topic to discuss, but it is the posture of true worship. It's the moment you take what you treasure most, place it in God's hands, and trust Him with the outcome. I've built seasons of my life around things I assumed were permanent, only to discover later that they were temporary stops along the road. That's the human instinct: to cling tightly to what feels familiar and try to turn it into forever. But surrender hurts for a reason, and resisting surrender hurts even more.
Surrender isn't about losing—it's about being formed. It asks:
Am I ready to receive what I've been praying for?
Is there something deeper underneath the desire I'm chasing?
What is God shaping in me through this letting-go?
Worship is where these questions breathe. In worship, we shift our focus from what we're losing to who God is. As we focus on who he is, he reveals who we are. Like frankincense, our lives release their most authentic fragrance only when placed entirely in His hands.
Luke 1. (n.d.). In Holy Bible: New International Version.
Exodus 30. (n.d.). In Holy Bible: New International Version.
Messages of Christ. “The Altar of Incense, Explained.” YouTube, Messages of Christ, 16 Feb. 2023, www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZS79wnUUl7A. Accessed 20 Nov. 2025.
