Gifts: Martyrdom

 

Good Saturday morning, good citizens of the cosmos. Today is the fourth day of Hanukkah, celebrating the miracle of the fourth day of light in the darkness, and the third day of Kwanzaa, which is devoted to the principle of Ujima, collective work, and responsibility: "To build and maintain our community together and make our community's problems our problems and to solve them together.".

In the song "The 12 Days of Christmas," the fourth day is remembered with four calling birds, which represent Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. (I always thought it should be John, Paul, George, and Ringo.)

Today is the Feast of the Holy Innocents also called Childermas or Innocent’s Day, which follows the feasts of St. Stephen, the first martyr, and St. John, the Beloved Disciple who died in exile.

Today is held in remembrance of the children who were put to death by King Herod following his decree that all male infants in Bethlehem aged two and under be killed (Matthew 2) This was Herod’s attempt to destroy the Christ child after the Wise Men seeking “the newborn king of the Jews” did not return to tell him where the child could be found.

The children are remembered during the Christmas season as they lost their lives because of Herod’s fear of the Christ child. They are considered martyrs.

Tradition has it as a day to bless your children for protection and intercede for the protection of all children especially those in danger. When I was a young Roman Catholic kid, we would get dressed up and trouped off to church, to receive a special blessing from the priest. Then, home again for a special lunch of Fish Stew and hot, crusty Portuguese bread.

I don't know if there was symbolism to the meal. It was tradition. At least, in my grandmother's house.

Finally, it was also on this day in 1945 that Congress officially recognized the Pledge of Allegiance. It was written in 1892 by a minister and Socialist named Francis Bellamy, who was eventually forced out of his position because he preached too many sermons about Jesus and socialism.

Another patriot and martyr for Jesus.

So, it's probably no surprise that I find myself meditating on the spiritual word and meaning of martyr. When I was a kid, the nuns would read us from The Book of Martyrs during lunch. That was to accomplish silence during lunch as well as a way to "strengthen your faith by the example of the martyrs."

I suspect the nuns maintained that practice in the convent and then just carried it over to us kids because "it's good for your soul." It didn't take too long to figure out that what was "good for my soul" was always, always, always going to be something that was at least unpleasant if not sacrificial.

It was years and years later, however, that I was able to figure out that, in an ancient, middle eastern culture that was shame-based, sacrifice was a logical and reasonable way to holiness.

Suffering in this life - especially that which was inexplicable and senseless and unmerited - was explained as an elevation of status in the life to come. I remember the nuns saying that those who earned a place closest to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in heaven were those who had suffered the most on earth.

That made absolutely no sense to me, especially when we were also carefully taught that God is love and those who know love know God. Then again, we were taught lots of contradicting things as Roman Catholic kids.

Like? Like "Sex is bad. Save it for someone you love." (This was code for celibacy outside of marriage.)

Like? Like "Holy Friendships are formed in God's love. Particular Friendships are of the Devil." (This was code for homosexuality.)

There was a lot of clarity in their contradiction. You just had to understand that it was all code - and usually code for something that had anything to do with sex.

The one thing I learned about martyrs is that they have a lot of power. I mean, some of the people who died a hideous, torturous death for their faith centuries and centuries before were still being remembered in readings and masses said in their name.

The strength of the martyrs is probably best summed up in the poetic saying used by Mexican activists to protest the previous administration's immigration policy regarding the separation of families, “They tried to bury us, they didn’t know we were seeds,”

Martyrs are sometimes considered fools because of the sacrifices they are willing to make/have made for what it is they believe. The POTUS-elect infamously noted that the soldiers who had died in battle were "suckers and losers". He also doesn't want to ever be photographed next to veterans who had lost limbs in battle. "It's a bad look," he said.

I have learned that there are martyrs who have not lost life or limb on the battlefield or for patriotic or religious purposes. There are "everyday martyrs" who are not willing to sacrifice their integrity for the benefit - usually financial but sometimes reputational or social advancement - of others.

There are those who stand up for what they believe is right in small, seemingly insignificant battles that will never make the Nightly News. Some people walk away from a battle because they want to win the war, setting their sights on the bigger picture, the longer-term goal.

And, there are those who are willing to sacrifice everything to achieve their passion in life, or for what or who they understand themselves to be, whose sacrifices are sometimes not understood until long after they have died.

I'm thinking now of artists as well as activists.

I pray for the strength to always be able to take a stand for what it is I believe - even if that means that I walk away from a lucrative opportunity.

I pray for the wisdom to know when to raise my voice or still it for a higher purpose, to help an individual someone, or a particular, greater cause.

I pray for the courage to do or say what's right; when it doesn't seem to matter, or when no one is looking, even if it means that I may tarnish or lose a friendship or an essential part of myself.

I think the greatest sacrifice is innocence, which is why the slaughter of the Innocents of Bethlehem feels so heinous.

Because it is.

It's important to remember especially now, four days after Christmas, during the inconvenient time when we'd rather wax romantic about a baby born in poverty to a teen mother who conceived out of wedlock and born to refugee parents who were unable to find hospitality and had to flee to a foreign country to save their lives and the life of their newborn from political unrest.

In the next four years, that scene will no doubt be repeating itself, played out on the TV screens in our very living rooms. It won't be anything approaching romantic. It will be heinous.

Will I be willing to stand up and speak out, even if it means being an "everyday martyr" with the potential to lose status or friendships or an essential part of myself?

I suspect many of us - many good, devout religious folk who love God and Jesus, our country, apple pie, and Chevrolet - will be asking the same question of ourselves.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.