Hail, martyr flowers!
On the very threshold of your life
Christ's persecutor destroyed you,
As a whirlwind does the budding roses.
~Salvete flores martyrum
According to Butler's
Lives:
Our Divine Redeemer was persecuted by the world as soon as he made his appearance in it. For he was no sooner born than it declared war against him. Herod, in persecuting Christ, was an emblem of Satan and of the world. That ambitious and jealous prince had already sacrificed to his fears and suspicions the most illustrious part of his council, his virtuous wife Mariamne, with her mother Alexandra, the two sons he had by her, and the heirs to his crown, and all his best friends. Hearing from the magians who were come from distant countries to find and adore Christ that the Messias, or spiritual king of the Jews, foretold by the prophets, was born among them, he trembled lest he was come to take his temporal kingdom from him. So far are the thoughts of carnal and worldly men from the ways of God, and so strangely do violent passions blind and alarm them. The tyrant was disturbed beyond measure and resolved to take away the life of this child, as if he could have defeated the decrees of heaven. He had recourse to his usual arts of policy and dissimulation, and hoped to receive intelligence of the child by feigning a desire himself to adore him. But God laughed at the folly of his short-sighted prudence, and admonished the magians not to return to him. St. Joseph was likewise ordered by an angel to take the child and his mother, and to fly into Egypt. Is our Blessed Redeemer, the Lord of the universe, to be banished as soon as born....
Fr. Mark writes of the Passion of the Infant Christ,
HERE. To quote:
I can never celebrate this feast of the Holy Innocents without
returning to a book written many years ago by Caryll Houselander: The Passion of the Infant Christ.
Writing in London during the Second World War — literally “under the
bombs” — she was inspired to speak of the Passion of the Infant Christ.
Seeing the sufferings of her own life and of those she loved with the
pure vision of one become a child in Christ, she recognized in both
cradle and cross wood hewn from the same tree.
The way to begin the healing of the wounds of the world
is to treasure the Infant Christ in us; to be not the castle but the
cradle of Christ, and in rocking that cradle to the rhythm of love, to
swing the whole world back into the beat of the Music of Eternal Life.
It is true that the span of an Infant’s arms is absurdly short; but if
they are the arms of the Divine Child, they are as wide as the reach of
the arms on the cross; they embrace and support the whole world; their
shadow is the noonday shade for its suffering people; they are the
spread wings under which the whole world shall find shelter and rest
(Caryll Houselander, The Passion of the Infant Christ).
Houselander understood that nothing of the paschal mystery of
Christ is locked in an irretrievable past. The liturgy is the passion of
the Infant Christ made present to us and for us, here and now, in all
its fullness. Are you in Egypt, “groaning under bondage” (Ex 2:23),
learning to pray in suffering? Are you wandering in a desert waste,
tortured by hunger and thirst, a prey to temptations and terrors of the
night? Have you crossed over into that good and broad land where milk
and honey flow? Through the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass the Infant Christ
is with you, his prayer in yours, and yours in his: a prayer that says
“Yes” to the wood of the cradle, to the wood of the Cross, and to
everything that lies in between. (Read more.)