Christ the Babe Was Born for You
2024 First Presidency’s Christmas Devotional
Sunday, December 8, 2024
How lucky are we to experience such beautiful music? Thank you so much to this choir, the orchestra, and the conductors. I can’t see you behind these trees, but I know you’re there.
“Infant Holy, Infant Lowly” is one of my favorite Christmas carols.
Flocks were sleeping, Shepherds keeping
Vigil till the morning new;
Saw the glory, heard the story
Tidings of a gospel true.
Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow,
Praises voicing, greet the morrow,
Christ the Babe was born for you.
Christ the babe was born for you!
As a little girl, my parents’ nickname for me was “Tammy Lamb,” so when the scriptures talked about a shepherd and his lambs, I always felt they were speaking to me.
This was especially true of the Christmas story and the angels appearing to shepherds, watching over their flocks, their lambs, by night. I pictured myself there and imagined what it would have been like to approach the babe in the manger. I still love these images every year as I contemplate His birth.
Another favorite image comes from a story told by Elder John R. Lasater.
Many years ago, Elder Lasater visited a country in Africa as part of an official government delegation.
One day, when they were traveling in the desert in a caravan of black limousines, an accident happened. The car he was in crested the hill, and he noticed that the front vehicle had pulled off the road. He said, “The scene before us has remained with me for these many years.”
An old shepherd, in long flowing robes of the Savior’s day, was standing near the limousine talking to the driver. Nearby stood a small flock of about 15 sheep.
The lead car had hit and injured one of the sheep, Elder Lasater’s driver explained. And because it was the king’s vehicle, the shepherd was now entitled to 100 times the value of the little lamb when fully grown. But under that same law, the lamb would be killed and the meat divided among the people.
Then the driver said, “But just watch, the old shepherd won’t take the money; they never do.” When asked why, he added, “It’s because of the love he has for each of his sheep.”
They watched as the old shepherd reached down, lifting the injured lamb in his arms, and placing him in the folds of his robes. He kept stroking the lamb, repeating the same word over and over, and when Elder Lasater asked the meaning of the word, he was told, “Oh, he’s saying its name. All of his sheep have a name, for he is their shepherd, and the good shepherds know each one of their sheep by name.”
In Isaiah we are promised, “He shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom.”
If we remember anything or feel anything this Christmas season, it should be that we are His. Remember when Christ told Peter, “Feedmy lambs …mysheep”?
“For unto youis born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.”
He was born to lift each one of us personally. And if He’s anyone’s, He is most certainly yours. Christ the babe was born for you.
But Isaiah also warns, “All we like sheep have gone astray.” Maybe each one of us has been in a place where we have felt like a wandering lamb or even a lost sheep. Tonight, I submit that we are all injured lambs in need of the Good Shepherd, who will cradle us in the arms of His love. Because to be mortal means we have things about us that feel broken, that need fixing.
And I don’t know if there is a time in my week I feel the need for a Redeemer more keenly than on Sunday during the sacrament. I bring my broken heart and reflect on the words and the emblems during this “time of spiritual renewal.” But sometimes there comes a low moment when, thinking about the past week, I recognize these are the same sins, the same weakness I was thinking about lastSunday. And I feel truly contrite or crushed.
Do you know this moment?
Today I invite you to try something new. In those most sacred minutes of your whole week, if you’re feeling crushed, imagine Him calling you by name, and go to Him. See your Savior in your mind’s eye, with His arms open and bright countenance extended to you, saying, “I knew you would feel like this! That’s why I came to earth and suffered what I did.” His help, His grace is available to you right now, not at the end of the road when you feel like you have things perfectly together. Because whoever feels like that? No one that I know.
Remember, we go to church, to the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, to be healed, but also to feel clean.
Years ago, when I was serving in Primary, I was telling a story about someone who had been recently baptized. I pointed out that this friend might be one of the most pure and clean members of the Church. Then, on the front row, a hand shot up and an older boy declared, “I can be just as clean as he is because I’ve been baptized and take the sacrament.” I awkwardly answered, “Yes, that’s what I meant—what he said.”
My friends, do we truly remember and receive this most stunning doctrine? If we’ve been doing the work to keep our covenants with God—continually returning, reporting, and repenting—we can be cleansed each day. And through the ordinance of the sacrament, we can feel as clean as the day we were baptized.
For me, it’s how the Sabbath has become a day of rest. Not just a physical rest, but rest from guilt and fear, from my inadequacies and my weakness. At least for just one day!
One of the most tender accounts in all scripture gives us a glimpse of this rest. In the Book of Mormon, as the resurrected Savior is visiting His “other sheep” in the Americas, and after sensing their need without them even asking, He invites all who are broken physically—the lame, the blind, the deaf, or those “afflicted in any manner”—to come forward.
I imagine those lining up whose physical need for healing was obvious. But also in my mind’s eye, I see people like myself and others whom I love in the queue who are afflicted in ways that may not be visible to the human eye. He asked for those afflicted in any manner, “and he did heal them every one.”
Notice how, in this instance, it didn’t say that He cured them. I love this idea that there is a difference between healing and curing. Curing usually returns us to a previous state of wellness, which is what we long for, right? But healing is different. Healing incorporates that old wound, making us different on the other side.
Even the Savior of the world, as a resurrected being, retained the wounds in His hands, feet, and side—evidence that He will never forget us and that with His stripes we are healed. And perhaps, on that day when the Savior healed them, He also held them, taking each one in a loving embrace.
Tonight, maybe you’re feeling broken and aren’t sure you will experience His healing. But is that true? Every Sunday during the sacrament, He is lifting you off the dusty road and placing you in the folds of His robe, and cradling you in His ample arms.
On that holy Christmas night, an angel shared the good news, the good tidings of great joy. “He who was the greatest made Himself the least—the Heavenly Shepherd who became the Lamb.” “The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger. In all our trials, born to be our friend.” I believe the angel was saying, “Your friend, your best friend has just arrived. And if you knew how closely He has watched you, how much you looked to Him when you lived with Him before, if you understood what He is going to sacrifice for you and how much He will ever after be willing to do to help you return home, you would rush to greet Him at the manger.”
I bear my witness that the Baby in the manger, the One we worship and maybe even dare to imagine what it would have been like to hold, came to do just that for us.
Yes, Christ the babe was born for you!
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.