Courage

The feasts that follow on from Christmas day always challenge me year after year because they are so far from the idyllic domesticity of the Manger scene, or the festivities of Christmas day. For the celebration of Christmas is followed by three martyrdoms that immediately make clear to us the fact that because of Christ’s birth, death is transformed; because of Christ’s birth and what this Baby grows up to become and to do, our human deaths, when they are united to him, become our birth to new life in heaven. So St Paul said: “For me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain”.

Hence the Baby that lies in our Manger already has his arms open in the shape of a Cross to remind us that he was born to give his life on the Cross in order that we might have life in abundance, that is, the supreme gift of eternal life. Our celebration of Christmas must, therefore, always also remind us that the Incarnation is the costly price of our redemption; it is a consequence, albeit a happy and joyful consequence, of humanity’s sin. The sorrow and, indeed, even the shock of the martyrdoms that follow on from Christmas day thus wrench us from any complacency to remind us of the costliness of Christ’s birth.  

Indeed T. S. Eliot reflects that “Just as we rejoice and mourn at once, in the Birth and Passion of Our Lord; so also, in a smaller figure, we both rejoice and mourn in the death of martyrs. We mourn, for the sins of the world that has martyred them; we rejoice, that another soul is numbered among the Saints in Heaven, for the glory of God and for the salvation of men.” For the martyrdom of Christians continues unabated to this day – and we might think of Archbishop Oscar Romero who was also killed at the Altar for his outspoken defence of the Church and her activities. So the sins of mankind continues, but at the same time, we see that grace abounds in these dreadful circumstances, for each martyr is a shining torch in the darkness, bearing witness to the light of the Incarnation; a shining proclamation of the salvation and eternal life that the Christ Child was born to give to us Christians. For as St Stephen said as he died: “Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God.” Indeed, because of the Incarnation, the heavens are opened to us.

Thus, T. S. Eliot also said that “a martyr, a saint, is always made by the design of God; for His love of men, to warn them and to lead them, to bring them back to His ways.” Each of the martyrs, then, calls us to follow Christ and his ways. St Thomas of Canterbury teaches us that neither personal affection and friendship, nor political power, nor earthly prestige and riches is to be preferred to Christ. And so, these Christmastide martyrdoms challenge me because they remind me of the cost of discipleship. For each of us has been told by Jesus that if we want to be his disciples, his followers, then we must also – every one of us – daily deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him.

This is the challenge placed before us today. But it is no different, in a sense, from every day. We’re just being reminded of what our baptismal vocation entails. However, Eliot’s words also remind us that we do not bear our crosses alone. Rather, God’s grace is at hand, the power of his Holy Spirit, and the intercession of the Saints. For saints are made by God’s design, that is, by his grace and we are held in his love. For God has become Man, and so, he has chosen to be with us, to strengthen us, to help us in every trial, and to lead us to his heavenly home.