The Holy Innocents, Martyrs
1 John 1:5-2:2 | Psalm 123(124):2-5,7-8 | Matthew 2:13-18

The Slaughter of the Innocents that is recounted in today’s Gospel is certainly horrific, but did you know that in 2015 and 2016, American toddlers shot over 50 people each year?

Just over half of these shootings were self-inflicted, which still leaves a whole lot of “hey, new toyBANG! Why did Mommy fall over?”. Still, no one in their right mind would blame the “perpetrators”; they couldn’t possibly know what would happen when that trigger was pulled.

Not so the “road ragers”, or people who bully and abuse service personnel in the (probable) hope of getting speedy preferential treatment through intimidation. When confronted with their misdeeds, their common refrain of blamelessness:

• “I didn’t know it was wrong” (ignorance), or
• “I’m just being honest, how is that rude?” (self-righteousness), or
• “I can’t help it, I’ve always been like that, so all of you should be more tolerant” (helplessness), or
• “wah lau, you Christians so unforgiving, shame on you!” (playing the martyr card)

can trigger a whole load of impotent teeth-grinding among well-intentioned folks trying to set things right.

It’s been said that “in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” I think it can also be said that “in the land of the civil, the a**hole is king”.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

I personally deal with such people on a regular basis, and I constantly fight the temptation to descend to their level and tear several strips off them. Clearly, I don’t have a good solution to this issue, but it’s also undeniable that such behaviour is hypocritical at best, and actually veers towards conscious evil.

St. John the Apostle couldn’t be clearer:

If we say that we are in union with God
while we are living in darkness,
we are lying because we are not living the truth.
[…] If we say we have no sin in us,
we are deceiving ourselves
and refusing to admit the truth.
(1 John 1:6,8)

As adult Christians, we are no longer eligible to claim Holy Innocent-hood. We have been given the knowledge of Christian love and the call to Christian charity. To ignore them or, worse, use them as a pot-calling-kettle-black shield against other Christians who are trying to offer corrective observations and advice, is shameful and unconscionable.

Fortunately, our God is a loving and forgiving God, and:

if we acknowledge our sins,
then God who is faithful and just
will forgive our sins and purify us
from everything that is wrong. (1 John 1:9)

We just need to accept that we have sinned, understand that we don’t have to be rude pr**cks to others, and seek reconciliation with God and with those whom we have wronged.

Even if those others turn out to be rude pr**cks themselves.

Lord, save us from ourselves. Help us recognize the hurt we inflict on others in our drive to get ahead in life, make amends in appropriate ways, and be properly remorseful and turn back to You who are goodness personified. Amen.

Saint John, Apostle, Evangelist
1 John 1:1-4 | Psalm 96(97):1-2,5-6,11-12 | John 20:2-8

It’s a near-future Olympics, and Usain “Lightning” Bolt is out on the track, a picture of calm in the midst of his nervous competitors, all wondering what it would take to overtake the Fastest Man Alive.

The race begins with Bolt characteristically falling behind his competitors before unleashing his prodigious leg muscles and passing the others one by one. As he nears the finish line, everyone in the stadium stands, cheers and applauds.

Suddenly, just one long stride from the end, Bolt stops dead in his tracks. The entire stadium gasps.

His closest competitor rapidly closes the gap then, mouth agape, turns his head to goggle at the stationary world champion, tripping himself in the process and literally flying over the finish line.

The other six runners do the same, and the medical teams run out onto the track to render assistance, while the sideline reporters sprint to the waiting Bolt. Everyone in the stadium is yelling the same question: “Why did you stop?”

Bolt turns to the waiting cameras and, flashing his trademark grin, says:

I didn’t need to win, but everyone else needed hope.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

I’m sure a similar question has been asked over and over about today’s Gospel passage: Why did John not enter Jesus’ tomb when he reached it first? Many explanations have been offered over the years, from John’s deferring to Peter’s seniority as the first among equals, to John mistakenly believing that Jesus’ body was still among the linen cloths lying on the ground.

I’d like to offer my own speculation: John deliberately stopped to give Peter renewed hope and confidence in himself.

We all know the story of Peter’s misplaced, almost arrogant confidence, of claiming in front of the other disciples: “Though all lose faith in you, I will never lose faith.” (Matthew 26:33)

We also know what happened after: Jesus basically said “oh yes you will, and three times too”. That prophecy came to pass via a noisy rooster, and we all picture a devastated Peter weeping bitterly at this point, unsure of himself and of everything he professed.

Fast-forward to Mary of Magdala’s surprise announcement: Christ has disappeared from His tomb! It’s more than enough to get Peter and John running to investigate, but Peter soon falls behind, unable to keep up with the younger disciple, and perhaps slowed by recalling his own betrayal of the Messiah. At this point, perhaps he’s thinking: “Why am I doing this? I walked away from Jesus in His darkest hour; why would He accept anything else from me?”

Now John has reached the tomb, and seen the burial cloths. He’s about to set foot in the tomb, when he looks back and sees Peter struggling with himself some distance away, and remembers that tragic cock-crowing scene at the high priest’s house. On a Spirit-filled impulse, he decides instead to wait until Peter is close, then starts frantically waving and pointing to the tomb in a silent message: Peter, quick! Something’s happening here!

Peter sees John’s obvious excitement, which gives him renewed energy. Sprinting forward, he surges past and skids straight into the tomb…and a bombshell of a revelation: Oh dear God, it’s true! It’s ALL true!

John, noticing a sea change light up Peter’s face, now enters the tomb to see…and believe.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

It might not have happened that way, but we’ve all heard stories of athletes stopping to help the fallen, while watching their commanding lead evaporate into last place as the other competitors run past.

It might not have happened that way, but I believe many of us would like it to be true, that St. John chose giving hope to a fallen comrade over winning a meaningless race.

It might not have happened that way, but if it hadn’t, would the nascent Church have survived a spiritually-broken St. Peter?

For that matter, have we ourselves surged forward to grasp some life-prize (free goodies, a coveted promotion, a gorgeous girlfriend) and walked away proud and exultant, oblivious to the people who tripped and fell in that same quest?

Were we in fact responsible for tripping them, through some carelessness or dirty tricks of our own?

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

We have already won the prize of eternal life, but everyone else still needs hope.

Mindful of this, let us consciously live some of St. Paul’s last words to Timothy, but with a Spirit-filled twist:

I have helped others fight the good fight to the end;
I have helped others run the race to the finish;
I have helped others keep the faith
(2 Timothy 4:7, with adjustments)

Amen.

Saint Stephen, the first Martyr
Acts 6:8-10,7:54-59 | Psalm 30(31):3-4,6,8,16-17 | Matthew 10:17-22

Today, we think of “martyrs” as people who gave up their lives to preserve their faith, but the original Greek word, martus, simply meant “witness”, a person who testifies to what he knows from personal observation.

The apostles saw and worked with Jesus in the flesh, so their belief came naturally.

St. Stephen may or may not have seen Jesus, but he did see “heaven thrown open, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:56), so he was simply describing what he saw and knew.

All of us alive today have not seen, but as Jesus told St. Thomas, “Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.” (John 20:29)

So are we martyrs? Of course!

But, the doubters cry, how can that be? We weren’t there when Christ ministered, worked miracles, and died for us all. In a mundane court of law, surely we’d be guilty of perjury!

Now, it is true that what we “know” largely comes from the deposit of faith left us by our forefathers, the apostles and their successors, in one unbroken chain of scripture and tradition. By itself, it’s not credible testimony to detractors; anyone can write anything they want, and the farther back we go, the less independent corroborating evidence there is to support our claims.

But we see the presence of God today. We don’t have to dig through the musty and worm-ridden archives of history, when we can point in this modern era to:

the Eucharistic miracles of Santarem and Lanciano,

the incorrupt bodies of several saints,

the many apparitions of Our Lady at Guadalupe, La Salette and other places,

the miraculous healings around the world that still happen to this day, and most importantly,

the continuous stream of people who are invited to inspect the Catholic faith closely, decide that there really is something here, and join the faithful in baptism each year.

So many of us have also experienced God’s work in our own lives, from healing of body and mind, to comfort in spiritual turmoil, to a uncharacteristic burning zeal to share the Truth.

Sharing our faith doesn’t require us to cook up fanciful stories of divine interventions and miraculous rescues. It’s just a matter of demonstrating to others how God has shaped our lives for the better.

We don’t have to die for our faith, but when the time comes for us to leave this earthly realm, would we have given others hope in Christ?

Lord, as we commemorate the courage and willingness of St. Stephen to give his all for You, grant us some small share in that courage to share our hope and faith in You with others, so as to give them hope in an eternity with You and our heavenly Father.

Amen.

Christmas Midnight
Isaiah 9:1-7 | Psalm 95:1-3,11-13 | Titus 2:11-14 | Luke 2:1-14

Tonight, the world stands still, basking in the light cast by a new-born babe, a Son who came to save our lives with His life.

Tonight, we come to worship He who comes from the Father, born a King in the depths of poverty, born to rule the nations with mercy and compassion.

Tonight, we sing the hymn of all the angels:

Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Amen.