Homily for the Feast of the Holy Innocents

          It doesn't take long for the joy and wonder of Christmas to get shaken off its foundation. The innocence that was just born to us was came into a world where cruelty erupts all too violently from human hearts. We want to linger on the good that we just received in the birth of Jesus, but the memorials of Stephen, the first martyr, and the slaughter on many innocent boy children, boggles our mind. Our task is not to let harsh events harden our hearts. We are to seek for the good that is surrounded by death and destruction, and cling to it. For in it, we find our hope, and this world needs to grasp as much hope as possible.

          It would be unfortunate if we were to see the massacre of the innocents only as an historical event - as a sad event in the middle of a glorious season. A quick survey of the daily news on Christmas day shows us the use of deadly bombs in Iraq, slaughtering of worshippers in Nigeria, house fires in New England cities, brutal murders and unfortunate accidents. In our Presidential primary season we have plenty of word slinging that seriously attempts to injure others instead of building up one another. King Herod exists today. And then we face our own interpersonal losses - whether it is the death and mourning of love ones or our own experience of being beaten down by others. We are peppered with stories that can wear down our hope. The temptation when we cannot do anything to change a situation is to walk away, to try to harden ourselves, to maintain an emotional distance, or to despair. In the face of these natural, understandable human responses, we all the more appreciate compassion as a difficult but priceless grace. The key to our responses is our loving presence - just being silent with one who is suffering and in pain.

          It would be a gift for us if we learned to read scripture by lingering on our emotions and fully valuing the events that are becoming known. We honor the experience of others when we feel what they are feeling. Everyone's story needs to be told. Everyone's story needs to be heard and honored. We can only partially know something with our intellect; we gain greater insights and understanding when we allow ourselves to feel - to be put in the place of another. It is risky. Compassion is always risky because we risk being hurt in the process of showing solidarity, but it is the place in our hearts where we are moved to greater love for one another.

          Many of us have spent time with someone dear in the last hours of life. We often wonder what we can say or do to comfort and console the person and we often realize we are thinking in an unhelpful way. We would rather have the person say, "Let me tell you what it is like. Let me tell you what I am seeing and feeling. Please don't interrupt; just stay with me and listen." We find our way into compassion as we hold another person's story. Compassion builds upon each experience. Compassion is not just our feeling wounded, but compassion indentifies the wound that is us.

          I marvel at the magi because they saw and heard and had compassion on the boy Jesus and his family. They were changed by what they experienced. In my prayer, I can imagine them holding the boy in their arms and feeling as if they belong to him. They have great hope for the promise that he brings not only to the world but to themselves. I hope each of you in your Christmas prayer picked up the newborn babe and held him in your own arms. So many times I hear of people who are reluctant to pick him up and sing gently to him. I hope you fully immersed yourself in the experience. I hope you cooed at him and said some silly things that babies make us do. The compassion of the magi for Jesus protected his life. It makes me wonder what greater power compassion holds for our world.

          It makes me wonder what would have happened if King Herod's story was heard and honored by others. I'm sure his friends would have heard of his deep wounds and fears and insecurities. If they could have held his story for him to examine, he might have owned up to the irrational thoughts he held. Because he did not directly confront his fears, they were manifested sideways - and that was very messy and unfortunate. They could have helped him become more whole rather than acting out of his unhealthiness. It is possible that the countless lives of innocent children were saved rather than extinguished.

          We hold quite a gift in our hands. Christ has blessed us with the gift of compassion and he needs us to work with him to transform the world. We cannot put a stop to all the nonsense that creates more suffering and sorrow, but perhaps we can lessen the insanity when we hold one suffering person in front of us. We give them an incredible gift of solidarity and understanding and we live in hope that this goodness will be remembered and passed onto others and that life will be built up rather than destroyed. While King Herod exists today, he no longer reigns. Let love and compassion reign instead. Tell your story; listen to others; ease the pain and live in the world Christ came to redeem.