The feast of the Holy Innocents is the most challenging of the Christmas Octave Its stark brutality and unbearable violence shocks us. We prefer to airbrush it, or ignore it because it sits so uncomfortably both with our image of the nativity and with their view of ourselves.
It would be so much more convenient and comfortable to place it firmly in the past, something that we would never allow to happen now. The briefest of glances at the news shows us how wrong that view is. Part of the discomfort is that there are plenty examples today of similar indiscriminate brutality and violence against innocent people. In that sense the feast acts as a mirror, compelling us to look at our own times rather than judging Herod’s.
Another important aspect of the feast is that it allows us an opportunity to allow our own sadness a place in our celebrations. Modern Christmas has become relentlessly cheerful. We are expected to be joyful, happy and positive. Yet many of us come to Christmas carrying much sadness and grief. Our Christmas celebration has to find a space for that grief as well as the joy. Today’s gospel offers that opportunity as, quoting Jeremiah, Matthew tells us:
“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.”
As we listen to Rachel mourning inconsolably for her lost children we can find the space to mourn. We can join our grief to hers, personal and communal, making space for all who are carrying the weight of grief this Christmastide.
Where do you need space for grieving this Christmastide?
