Christmas and the Sacrament

Christmas was a little rough. I went into the month determined to be focused on the real meaning of Christmas, to be still, to not be swept up in the busyness. Well, Heavenly Father must have thought I needed some extra help, because on the 21 I was laid out with the flu and definitely had time to be still over the holidays, though not in the way I wanted.

On Christmas Eve, a Sunday, I was too sick to go to church. I couldn't sing in the quartet that I was supposed to. I just laid there in bed, a little grumpy, and a little sad that I didn't have a chance to take the sacrament and worship my Savior on Christmas. My four year old came home and jumped on my bed for a few painful minutes, then he gave me his sacrament cup that he had neglected to put back in the tray. As I was lying there looking at it in my hand and thinking about Christmas, I realized something I had never thought about before.

When Jesus was born, he was laid in a manger. A manger is a place where animals eat. In French, it literally means to eat. Why a manger? The symbolism I see there is quite striking, and perhaps a little odd: He was born to be food for us and our animal tendencies. Jesus said, "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you." (John 6) He is "the bread of life." So in a way, when we come to the sacrament table, we are coming to the manger.

This experience changed the way I think about sacrament meeting. I think it works to think of the sacrament meeting like a kind of nativity scene. There we all are, gathered around the wondrous gift, the body of Christ laid out and broken for us to eat and drink. We call it a sacrament table, a place where we would sit and eat, the same way a manger would be for the animals. Like the Christ-child wrapped in swaddling clothes, the tokens of his body and blood are covered in a linen sheet.

Then there are the supporting actors in the scene. We all play a role. Some Sundays I am mere animal, maybe a donkey or a cow; another day I may be a shepherd making haste, inviting my friends, and coming with enthusiasm. On rare days, maybe if I am assigned a talk or something, I may be a wise man bringing a gift (sometimes gold, but probably more like a low quality myrrh.)

Interestingly, the Aaronic Priesthood holders could be thought to represent Mary. They are the ones who prepare and break and unveil the body of Christ and deliver it to the congregation. Many of our priesthood ordinances, though performed by men, have a kind of feminine symbolism; like a birthing process (most notably, baptism.) As we come each Sunday to renew our covenants, to be reborn, we do so because of our Savior who was born by Mary and laid in a manger, and in turn, because of his perfect atonement, He bears us (See Elder Holland's talk, Behold Thy Mother). Such could be said of those priesthood holders, like the young men in our wards, who exercise the priesthood to deliver Christ every week for us.

"How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given!" Like the familiar stable scene, which was largely unnoticed and apart from the bustle of the world, the sacrament meeting becomes a test of whether we will leave the world behind and come and be present at the humble manger scene, to partake of Christ's grace, to eat the tokens of his body and blood, and accept his love which is offered freely and weekly for each of us.