One, True Shepherd
Dear Elders and Sisters:
Merry Christmas and please enjoy this wonderful time of
the year as you serve your Father in Heaven and His Son in a consecrated
way. I promise your Christmases in-field
will be some of your most sacred and meaningful celebrations of the birth of
our Savior.
My Christmas message to you comes in the form of two of
my favorite stories illustrating the Savior and who He is.
Story #1: SHEPHERDS of ISRAEL: Some years ago, it was my privilege to visit
the country of Morocco as part of an official United States government
delegation. As part of that visit, we were invited to travel some distance into
the desert to visit some ruins. Five large black limousines moved across the
beautiful Moroccan countryside at considerable speed. I was riding in the third
limousine, which had lagged some distance behind the second. As we topped the
brow of a hill, we noticed that the limousine in front of us had pulled off to
the side of the road. As we drew nearer, I sensed that an accident had occurred
and suggested to my driver that we stop. The scene before us has remained with
me for these many years.
An old shepherd, in the long, flowing robes of the
Savior’s day, was standing near the limousine in conversation with the driver.
Nearby, I noted a small flock of sheep numbering not more than fifteen or
twenty. An accident had occurred. The king’s vehicle had struck and injured one
of the sheep belonging to the old shepherd. The driver of the vehicle was
explaining to him the law of the land. Because the king’s vehicle had injured
one of the sheep belonging to the old shepherd, he was now entitled to one
hundred times its value at maturity. However, under the same law, the injured
sheep must be slain and the meat divided among the people. My interpreter
hastily added, “But the old shepherd will not accept the money. They never do.”
Startled, I asked him why. And he added, “Because of the
love he has for each of his sheep.” It was then that I noticed the old shepherd
reach down, lift the injured lamb in his arms, and place it in a large pouch on
the front of his robe. He kept stroking its head, repeating the same word over
and over again. When I asked the meaning of the word, I was informed, “Oh, he
is calling it by 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.”
It was as my driver predicted. The money was refused, and
the old shepherd with his small flock of sheep, with the injured one tucked
safely in the pouch on his robe, disappeared into the beautiful deserts of
Morocco.
As we continued our journey toward the ruins, my
interpreter shared with me more of the traditions and practices of the
shepherds of that land. Each evening at sundown, for example, the shepherds
bring their small flocks of sheep to a common enclosure where they are secured
against the wolves that roam the deserts of Morocco. A single shepherd then is
employed to guard the gate until morning. Then the shepherds come to the
enclosure one by one, enter therein, and call forth their sheep—by name. The
sheep will not hearken unto the voice of a stranger but will leave the
enclosure only in the care of their true shepherd, confident and secure because
the shepherd knows their names and they know his voice.
The words of the Master Shepherd rang loudly in my ears:
“But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of
the sheep.
“To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice:
and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out.
“And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before
them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice.
“And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from
him: for they know not the voice of strangers” (John 10:2–5).
(John R. Lasater, Shepherds of Israel, General
Conference, April 1988)
Story #2: ONE
SOLITARY LIFE: He was born in an obscure
village, the son of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village, where he
worked in a carpenter's shop until he was thirty. Then for three years he became
a wandering preacher. He never wrote a
book. He never held an office. He never had a family or owned a house. He
didn't go to college. He never visited a big city. He never traveled two
hundred miles from the place where he was born. He did none of those things one
usually associates with greatness.
He had no credentials but himself. He was only thirty-three when the tide of
public opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. He was turned over to
his enemies and went through a mockery of a trial. He was executed by the
state. While he was dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing, the only
property he had on earth. When he was dead he was laid in a borrowed grave
through the pity of a friend.
Twenty centuries have come and gone, and today he is the
central figure of the human race and the leader of mankind's progress. All the
armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments
that ever sat, all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected
the life of man on this earth as much as that One Solitary Life. (Dr. James Allen Francis)
I bear my witness that He knows you by name and loves
you. I promise that He knows all of His
sheep, who are all of His Father's children.
I know He will lead you to them to gather them up, wounded as they might
be, and with Him will be able to rescue and return them to the fold. His life is the central purpose of all we do!
With much love, many prayers, and great desires to be His
servant,
President Clark
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