By the Rev. Peter M. J. Stravinskas
The Church, “expert in humanity” (as Pope Paul VI said), knows that the mystery of Christmas (like that of Easter) is so great that it cannot be adequately probed—and much less celebrated—in a single day. For this reason, taking a page from our Jewish liturgical heritage, the Church grants us the observance of an octave: eight full days to consider the central doctrine of the Incarnation, which allows us to reflect on it from various perspectives, as when a diamond is held up to the sun to appreciate its beauty from many different angles.
Throughout the Octave of Christmas, we find various feasts of saints. Do these commemorations serve as distractions from the central mystery of the Octave? Not at all, because, as St. Paul teaches us, “God is glorified in his saints” (2 Thessalonians 1:10). Indeed, we can say that the first fruits of the Incarnation are the saints, the comites Christi (the companions of Christ), and in this week most of them are martyrs: privileged witnesses to Christ: Stephen, the so-called “protomartyr” (December 27); Thomas Becket, the medieval defender of the freedom of the Church (December 29); and also the Holy Innocents, who were in reality the first to shed their blood for Christ.
We are introduced to the “Holy Innocents” by St. Matthew (2:16-18) after he recounts the visit of the Magi, whom Herod wanted to use as “reconnaissance” men to determine the identity of this “newborn King of the Jews.” When he does not obtain the information he desires, Herod resorts to mass murder to ensure that his rival is dead, ordering the execution of all male children under two years of age in Bethlehem.
The collect of the liturgy for the day states that these little ones confessed the true faith “not by speaking, but by dying.” In fact, the very Latin word infans means one who is still unable to speak. The prayer continues by asking the Lord for the great grace “that the faith in you that we confess with our lips, we may also profess by our manner of living.”
The Office of Readings for the feast offers us a reflection by Quodvultdeus, a fifth-century bishop of Carthage in North Africa and spiritual son of the great St. Augustine. The author addresses a question to the absent Herod: Why do you fear, Herod, when you hear of the birth of a king? He does not come to dethrone you, but to conquer the devil. But since you do not understand this, you are troubled and enraged, and to destroy a single child whom you seek, you show your cruelty with the death of so many children.
The Church in the United States has seen in the Holy Innocents the precursors of the millions of babies murdered through legalized abortion. And we have been witnesses to the fear and rage of those trapped in the culture of death. But why so much anger? The vast majority of pro-lifers offer a gentle protest. The rage arises, undoubtedly, because—deep down—everyone knows the truth of what happens in abortion clinics.
The Church in America—especially the hierarchy—has committed numerous errors in the post-Vatican II era. However, there is one area in which the Church shines: its tireless pro-life witness. We were a solitary voice immediately after Roe v. Wade. In fact, the abortionists used our isolated testimony to play the anti-Catholic card, hoping to present the issue as a sectarian Catholic matter.
Our system of Catholic schools brought strength and youth to the pro-life movement. A few years ago, after the March for Life in Washington, D.C., a journalist favorable to “abortion rights” observed in the Washington Post (also staunchly pro-abortion) that he “expected to write about [the] irrelevance [of the March].” But he admitted: “I was particularly impressed by the large number of young people among the tens of thousands present at the march.” He noted that the vast majority came from Catholic schools, where they “were educated from an early age to oppose abortion.”
Europeans are stunned by the vitality of the pro-life movement in the United States; most of them abandoned the cause long ago. Abortion remains a living and intensely debated dimension of American politics. Most interestingly, young people, perhaps realizing that they themselves could have been aborted or being impressed by what science has discovered about life in the womb, count themselves among the most pro-life of all.
The unborn innocents, therefore, have not died in vain. Quodvultdeus concludes his homily thus: By what merits of their own do the children deserve this kind of victory? They cannot speak, and yet they bear witness to Christ. They cannot use their limbs to fight, and yet they already receive the palm of victory.
Centuries later, Cardinal Newman would marvel at our little saints, preaching on this feast in 1833 with these words:
The longer we live in the world, and the further we are from the feelings and memories of childhood… the greater reason we have to remember the striking action and word of Our Lord, when he called a little child, set him in the midst of his disciples, and said: “Truly I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven”… And to remind us of this judgment of our Savior, the Church, like a solicitous teacher, calls us year after year on this day, drawing us away from the bustle and fever of the world… to moderate our earthly desires and hopes, our ambitious thoughts or our fears, jealousies and anxieties, with the image of the purity, peace, and contentment that characterize little children.
All you Holy Innocents, though mute in life, pray now that the witness of our lives may always match the words of our lips.
About the author
Father Peter Stravinskas holds doctorates in school administration and theology. He is the founding editor of The Catholic Response and editor of Newman House Press. Most recently, he launched a graduate program in Catholic school administration through Pontifex University.