Frankincense

When I’m obedient (Why is that so, so difficult some days?), ancient smoke curls around my face and I whisper the Jesus Prayer. Frankincense and prayer make my shoulders release better than an hour-long Swedish massage. Wring out the lactic acid and worries. Leave puddles of anxiety on the floor beneath my feet.

Frankincense. I had never smelled the real stuff until I was on an Ethiopian Airlines flight to Addis Ababa. Each time a flight attendant walked by, I thought they all were wearing the best perfume I had ever smelled. Otherworldly.

Turns out, it was probably frankincense smoke from traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremonies. As the coals heat to boil the coffee, nuggets of frankincense are dropped into the fire. The smell of frankincense is the smell of Ethiopia. (Among other fragrances that we won’t mention here.)

Frankincense, of course, was a gift of one of the magi. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Gold for the King. Myrrh for his burial. But what’s the meaning of the frankincense? 

It’s a symbol of worship, of the spiritual, of prayer. But more importantly, it symbolized the deity of the God-Man. 

Hard, cold gold for the King of this world.

Oil of myrrh to anoint his earthly body after his crucifixion.

But frankincense. Frankincense for his divinity. For his sacrifice.

Its smoke lifts prayers of worship, confession, supplication.

And scientifically, frankincense alleviates pain and inflammation. Recent studies have found the smoke helps to relieve anxiety. Didn’t need a medical study to tell me that, but I love when science finally catches up to the ancient.

Through small nuggets of tree resin, earth combines with fire in a fragrance that reaches to heaven.