Where meek hearts will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in.
Since childhood we have been taught that it is better to give than receive. Certainly, living out that principle can provide an antidote to selfishness and enlarge our generosity. But we also need to learn how to receive graciously and with an open heart.

Karen Mead offers a glimpse into her difficulty with receiving, a difficulty many share:
“No one ever taught me how to receive. Not a compliment; I am a master at countering any comment with insight about all my faults. Not a gift; I immediately feel the need to give something in return, preferably bigger. Not a kindness; I wave people away from helping me in a grocery line, no matter that I am dropping bread as I speak.
How could I have gone through so much life and have no experience with such a fundamental act as the ability to receive?”

That is a question to give us pause. Of course, the Western cultural value of autonomy and independence feeds our discomfort with receiving. But what else? Is it the vulnerability of receiving? The feeling of being passive? The dependence? The pricking of pride? The interior voices of unworthiness? The family messages such as “No one in OUR family has ever received “hand outs”?
In the annunciation story, Mary provides a model of receiving. She is presented with a gift of unprecedented grace and favor—told that she would bear a child, son of the Most High God. Richard Rohr notes that she does not respond by playing the “I am not worthy game”—a normative response in biblical theophanies. Rather she says, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

During this season we can adopt some practices that may help us learn to receive. We can remind ourselves how steeped our daily lives are in the gifts of others. For example, every meal we eat depends on a chain of growers, harvesters, transporters, and more. We can practice accepting compliments with simple grace—resisting the temptation to downplay accomplishments or undercut ourselves. We can acknowledge and bless one gift every day. We can enter contemplative silence and pray with “open hands, empty hands” before God (hands on our laps, palms upturned), acknowledging that, in truth, all is grace.