TO-DAY, beloved brethren, we are celebrating the birthday of those children, who, as the Gospel tells us, were slain by the cruel king Herod. Let the world rejoice with great gladness, because she is the fecund parent of this great and powerful army of heavenly soldiers. The heathen foe could never have benefited these little ones by his goodwill as much as he did by his hatred. THIS day's holy festival shows that in proportion as his wickedness abounded towards these blessed little ones, so was the grace of blessedness poured forth upon them. Blessed art thou, O Bethlehem in the land of Juda: in thee was perpetuated the wicked crime of Herod the king; his massacre of these children: and therefore, hast thou been found worthy to offer to God in one offering a white-robed multitude of innocent children.
MOST fittingly do we keep the festival of their
birthday, for their birth from this world into life eternal is more blessed
than that from their mothers' wombs. They attained unto life eternal and joined
the ranks of the blessed before they had tasted life here on earth. THE
precious death of other martyrs deserves praise for its testimony—those who
have fought a good fight and finished their course; but death gave glory to these
Innocents at the opening of their life, by closing it immediately. Herod in his
wickedness snatched these sucklings from their mothers' breasts; rightly are
they called the flowers of martyrdom, for they sprang up in the midst of the
winter of unbelief, as the first opening buds of the Church, and were nipped by
the frost of persecution.
St. Augustine
Office of Readings: the
Venerable Bede
Hymnum
canéntes mártyrum
dicámus
Innocéntium,
quos
terra deflens pérdidit,
gaudens
sed æthra súscipit;
Quos
rex perémit ímpius,
pius
sed Auctor cólligit,
secum
beátos cóllocans
in
luce regni pérpetis.
Præclára
Christo splénduit
mors
ínnocens fidélium;
cælis
ferébat ángeli
bimos
et infra párvulos.
O
quam beáta cívitas,
in
qua Redémptor náscitur,
natóque
primæ mártyrum
in
qua dicántur hóstiæ!
Astant
niténtes fúlgidis
eius
throno nunc véstibus,
stolas
suas qui láverant
Agni
rubéntes sánguine.
Let us sing a hymn of the Innocent Martyrs, at
whose destruction the earth weeps but heaven rejoices to receive them. A wicked
king destroyed them but a loving Creator gathered them to himself, these
blessed ones he gathered in the light of his eternal kingdom. In the presence
of Christ the innocent death of the faithful brightly shone; the angels bring
to heaven the little ones two years and under. O blessed city, where the
Redeemer was born and by that birth is declared the first sacrifices of the
martyrs. Now before the throne they
stand brightly in shining vestments,
those who wash their stoles in the red blood of the Lamb.
Lauds: Prudentius
Audit
tyránnus ánxius
adésse
regum príncipem,
qui
nomen Israel regat
teneátque
David régiam.
Exclámat
amens núntio:
«Succéssor
instat, péllimur;
satélles,
i, ferrum rape,
perfúnde
cunas sánguine!».
Quo
próficit tantum nefas?
Quid
crimen Heródem iuvat?
Unus
tot inter fúnera
impúne
Christus tóllitur.
Salvéte,
flores mártyrum,
quos
lucis ipso in límine
Christi
insecútor sústulit
ceu
turbo nascéntes rosas.
Vos
prima Christi víctima,
grex
immolatórum tener,
aram
sub ipsum símplices
palma
et corónis lúditis.
The tyrant anxiously hears that the King of kings
is coming, he who is named to rule Israel and govern the kingdom of David.
Outraged he cries to the messenger: “a successor is at hand; we will be cast
out: men, grab your swords: fill the cradles with blood.” What is the benefit
of such an offense? How will such a
crime help Herod? Christ alone among so many dead escapes safely. Hail, flowers
of the martyrs, those on the very threshold of life; the persecutor of Christ
like fresh roses in the wind. You the first offerings of Christ, the tender
flock of the sacrificed, under the altar you innocently play with palms and
crowns.
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