Life and Death

Christmas Octave: Feast of the Holy Innocents (28 December 2018)

1 John 1:5—2:2. Psalm 124:2-3, 4-5, 7cd-8. Matthew 2:13-18. (Please click the following link for the above readings www.usccb.org.)

“A voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loudly lamenting: it was Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted because they were no more.”

The stories around Christmas don't stop to amaze us, as with today's gospel stories of the Holy Family's flight into Egypt and the massacre of the boy children under the age of two in Bethlehem and its vicinity by the order of King Herod. Perhaps, on our part, we need to stop reading the gospel as we would a history book or a newspaper. Beyond the fascination and horror of these stories, we need to arrive at their meaning: what do I understand from these events and how do I take them into my living?

These infants became martyrs for Christ. Martyrdom is not about getting killed, but witnessing to Christ and proclaiming God's goodness and love. Such a witnessing is beyond a child's capacity or understanding, isn't it? Yes it is, but to be a martyr (=witness) no understanding is needed. God can use you inspite of you, inspite of your ability or disability. These children whom we celebrate today died in the place of Jesus, and so they are regarded as martyrs. Of course, Jesus himself would one day die for them and for all of us. Their deaths have deep significance for us.

Nothing is smooth about life. You can't get settled into an easy or sweet pattern in life. There are disorders, chaos and confusion at every turn of your life journey. Life is a struggle. But the good news is that your struggles—big and small, significant and insignificant, all of them—have meaning. God cares about them. God cares about you unceasingly. As the Holy Innocents teach, the life that our Lord gives is so big that it includes even death; it includes our smaller and bigger deaths. God's order includes even disorder and confusion. Our joy in life is found among our disorders, not away from them. Life is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved.

As the first reading of today clearly states we are a mixture of both light and darkness, good and bad, life and death, positives and negatives. The tragedy of life is not about possessing darkness, but about denying it. All things on earth are a mixture of darkness and light. When we idolize things as totally good or condemn other things as totally bad, we get ourselves in trouble. Jesus simplifies this task by saying: “God alone is good” (Mark 10:18). Even the good things of this world are still subject to imperfection, wounding, and decay. We may find it very hard to admit, but often tragedies, struggles and misfortunes produce much good fruit and good people.

Happiness does not come from an easy and comfortable life, but from a meaningful and mature life that does not exclude sorrows, sufferings, deaths and tragedies. Everything in our life becomes an occasion for good and for God, if only we can surrender to life's mysteries.

As the poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote: “I want to ask you, as clearly as I can, to bear with patience all that is unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves. For everything must be lived. Live the questions now, perhaps then, someday, you will gradually, without noticing, live into the answer.”