The Household That Would Not Bow

MASS Laudáte, púeri
LESSON Proverbs 31: 10-31
GOSPEL St Matthew 12: 46-50
HOMILIST Mt Revd Jerome Lloyd OSJV

YouTube player

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Beloved in Christ, today Holy Mother Church places before us a whole household of martyrdom: the Seven Holy Brothers, Januarius, Felix, Philip, Silanus, Alexander, Vitalis, and Martial; and with them the virgin martyrs Rufina and Secunda. The Mass is Laudáte, púeri, Dóminum: “Praise the Lord, ye children.” This is no accidental chant. The Church sings today of children, of motherhood, of a house made fruitful by God, while she remembers sons led one by one to death, and virgins who would rather lose earthly marriage than lose Christ. Pagan Rome saw extinction. The Church sees fecundity. The persecutor saw a family broken. The liturgy beholds a household planted in heaven.

The ancient Roman cult of these martyrs is venerable. The seven martyrs were commemorated at Rome on 10 July from very early times, their bodies honoured in different cemeteries along the Roman roads. The received Acts, already known by the age of Saint Gregory the Great, present them as the sons of the noble Roman widow Felicitas, martyred in the second century, traditionally about the year 162, under the Antonine persecution. The details come to us through the Church’s liturgical and hagiographical memory: Januarius was beaten with leaded scourges; Felix and Philip were scourged or beaten to death; Silanus was cast down from a height; Alexander, Vitalis, and Martial were beheaded. Their mother, having witnessed their triumph, later followed them by martyrdom. The historical scholar may distinguish ancient cult from later Acts; the Catholic preacher must also see what the Church sees: a Roman mother and her sons presented to us as an icon of the domestic Church when the domestic Church is placed beneath the Cross.

Saint Gregory the Great, preaching in the basilica over Felicitas’ tomb on the Via Salaria, gave the key to the mystery. He said she was “more than a martyr,” because in each son she suffered before she herself was slain. Consider that sentence. Felicitas did not merely endure seven bereavements. She made seven acts of faith. She did not merely watch her sons die. She offered them back to God. Nature cried out within her, as it must; grace did not abolish her motherhood, but raised it to Calvary. She loved her sons not less than other mothers, but more truly, because she loved them for eternity. A mother who wants only worldly safety for her children loves them too little. Felicitas wanted heaven for them, and heaven passed by way of blood.

This is why the Epistle gives us the valiant woman from Proverbs: “Who shall find a valiant woman? the price of her is as of things brought from afar off.” The Church does not read this today as a sentimental praise of domestic usefulness, but as a portrait of supernatural fortitude. “She hath girded her loins with strength.” “Strength and beauty are her clothing.” “Her children rose up, and called her blessed.” Felicitas is the valiant woman because she had made her house strong before the persecution came. The martyrdom of her sons did not begin before the tribunal; it began in the home, in prayer, in instruction, in example, in the daily training of souls to prefer God to the world.

Here is the first great lesson for our time. The Christian family cannot be a place where Catholicism is merely admired, vaguely remembered, or decoratively displayed. It must be a school of confession. Parents are not entrusted with children so that those children may become agreeable citizens of a post-Christian order, fluent in its slogans, obedient to its appetites, and timid before its threats. Parents are entrusted with immortal souls. The world wants the child’s imagination, innocence, language, loyalty, body, conscience, and worship. It does not usually arrive with chains and executioners. It arrives through screens, curricula, entertainment, peer pressure, cowardly institutions, and a thousand soft catechisms of rebellion. Felicitas answers: form them first for God, or the world will form them against Him.

The Seven Brothers, in their turn, reveal the meaning of the Gradual and Alleluia. “Our soul hath been delivered, as a sparrow, out of the snare of the fowlers.” What was the snare? Not death. Death was the gate. The snare was apostasy. The snare was survival at the price of sacrifice to false gods. The snare was that ancient bargain: say the word, make the gesture, offer the incense, and live. They were delivered not because they escaped suffering, but because they escaped sin. The world thinks the martyr loses everything because he dies. Faith knows the apostate loses everything because he lives after denying Life Himself.

The Alleluia continues: “This is the true brotherhood, which overcame the wickedness of the world: it followed Christ, attaining the glorious kingdom of Heaven.” The Church praises not merely seven brave individuals, but a brotherhood. Blood made them brothers by nature; grace made them brothers in Christ; martyrdom manifested that brotherhood before Rome. We need such brotherhood now. We need Catholic men and boys who know that faith is not a private preference, nor a cultural inheritance, nor a nostalgic aesthetic, but a truth for which a man must be ready to suffer. We need men who can kneel without shame, pray without affectation, speak without cowardice, protect without brutality, and endure loss without becoming bitter. The crisis of our age is not that the world is hostile. It has often been hostile. The crisis is that too many Christians have been trained to admire courage while practising evasion.

The Gospel lifts the whole feast into its highest light. Our Lord is told: “Behold Thy mother and Thy brethren stand without, seeking Thee.” He answers: “Who is My mother, and who are My brethren?” Then, stretching forth His hand toward His disciples, He says: “Behold My mother and My brethren. For whosoever shall do the will of My Father that is in heaven, he is My brother, and sister, and mother.” This is not a diminishing of Our Lady. It is the revelation of her deepest glory. Mary is blessed not only because she bore Christ in her womb, but because she perfectly did the will of the Father. The martyrs belong to Christ because they do the Father’s will when every earthly instinct cries out for another way.

That is the centre of today’s Mass: not blood for its own sake, not suffering as spectacle, not defiance as temperament, but the will of the Father. Felicitas is mother in Christ because she does the will of the Father. Her sons are brethren of Christ because they do the will of the Father. Rufina and Secunda are sisters of Christ because they do the will of the Father. The Communion Antiphon repeats the same words because the Church wants them sealed upon our souls after we have received the Sacrament: “Whosoever shall do the will of My Father Who is in Heaven, he is My brother, and sister, and mother, saith the Lord.”

Now consider Rufina and Secunda. Their cult too is anciently Roman; their burial was honoured at the ninth milestone of the Via Cornelia. The Acts tell us that they were noble sisters, virgins, betrothed to Armentarius and Verinus, men who had once professed Christ but apostatised under persecution. The suitors wanted the sisters to follow them into betrayal. Rufina and Secunda refused. They would not purchase marriage at the price of faith. They would not enter a union founded upon denial of Christ. They would not profane love by separating it from truth. For this they suffered torments and finally won the palm of martyrdom, one tradition saying that Rufina’s head was split open and Secunda was beheaded.

Their witness is extraordinarily modern. We live in an age that speaks endlessly of love and understands it less and less. Rufina and Secunda teach that love is not love when it requires apostasy. No romance, no family peace, no social approval, no career path, no political loyalty, no ecclesiastical convenience, no promise of comfort can justify the denial of Christ. Their suitors had not merely failed morally; they had abandoned the Lord. The sisters understood what sentimental Christians forget: one cannot build a holy life upon deliberate unfaithfulness. Marriage, friendship, society, and even visible religious peace must all be subordinated to truth. Christ is not one interest among others. He is the Bridegroom, the Judge, and the Lord.

This brings the feast directly into our own hour. The modern world rarely commands Christians to burn incense before Jupiter. Its gods have changed names. It asks incense for autonomy, for ideology, for impurity, for comfort, for career, for therapeutic falsehood, for the dictatorship of feeling. It says: call evil good; call disorder compassion; call mutilation care; call impurity love; call cowardice prudence; call silence charity; call apostasy accompaniment; call rupture development. And when Christians hesitate, it does not always bring out the sword. It brings out exclusion, ridicule, professional penalty, institutional pressure, family estrangement, and the accusation of being unkind. Yet the moral structure is unchanged. The idol still says: bow, and you may keep your place.

The martyrs answer with terrible simplicity: we will not bow. Not because they are harsh. Not because they love conflict. Not because they despise those who persecute them. They refuse because Christ is God. The clarity of the martyrs is charity purified of cowardice. They do not negotiate with falsehood in order to appear pastoral. They do not blur doctrine in order to seem merciful. They do not call betrayal discernment. They know that a soul is not saved by being comforted in a lie. A Church that forgets this becomes worldly precisely when she imagines herself compassionate.

At this point we must examine ourselves. It is easy to admire Felicitas and still raise children for comfort rather than sanctity. It is easy to praise the Seven Brothers and still remain silent when Christ is mocked. It is easy to honour Rufina and Secunda and still arrange our relationships around human approval rather than divine truth. The martyrdoms of others become fruitful in us only when they expose our evasions. Where have we bowed? Where have we softened the Faith to avoid embarrassment? Where have we permitted children to be catechised by the world because it was easier than conflict? Where have we called fear prudence? Where have we chosen to be thought reasonable rather than to be found faithful?

The Mass gives us the remedy. These martyrs were not strong because they possessed a natural appetite for suffering. They were strong because Christ was stronger in them than fear. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is the school of martyrdom because it makes present the Sacrifice from which every martyrdom receives its meaning. Here the Son does the will of the Father unto death. Here the Cross is not remembered as past only, but made present sacramentally. Here the faithful learn that life is not saved by grasping but by offering. Here the body is consecrated to God. Here the soul is delivered from the snare of the fowler.

Not all are called to shed blood. All are called to confession. Some will suffer the martyrdom of being misunderstood by family. Some the martyrdom of chastity. Some the martyrdom of professional loss. Some the martyrdom of resisting lies told to children. Some the martyrdom of remaining Catholic when Catholic institutions themselves seem embarrassed by Catholic truth. Some the martyrdom of refusing to trade tradition for acceptance, doctrine for convenience, or reverence for applause. The form varies; the principle does not. “Whosoever shall do the will of My Father”: this is the mark of Christ’s kin.

Rome killed these martyrs, and now Rome venerates them. The officials who condemned them are dust; the martyrs remain alive in the liturgy. The apostates who chose safety have disappeared into shame; the virgins who chose Christ are crowned. The empire that demanded worship fell; the Church that buried its martyrs still sings over their relics. This is the irony of Providence. The world keeps promising permanence and producing ruins. Christ promises the Cross and gives everlasting life.

Therefore, beloved, let this feast make us serious. Let parents learn from Felicitas that children belong first to God. Let sons learn from the Seven Brothers that manhood without fidelity is cowardice dressed in strength. Let daughters learn from Rufina and Secunda that purity is not fragility but sovereignty beneath Christ. Let the Church learn again from all her martyrs that ambiguity will not convert the world, compromise will not sanctify it, and silence will not save souls.

“Praise the Lord, ye children.” Praise Him, Felicitas, valiant mother, fruitful in sacrifice. Praise Him, Januarius, Felix, Philip, Silanus, Alexander, Vitalis, and Martial, true brotherhood of Christ. Praise Him, Rufina and Secunda, virgins wise enough to refuse apostasy and brave enough to accept the sword. Pray for us, that our faith may cease to be timid, our charity may cease to be sentimental, our homes may cease to be worldly, and our witness may cease to be negotiable. Obtain for us the grace to do the will of the Father on earth, that Christ may acknowledge us as His brethren in heaven. Amen.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.



Homilies Archive

Mass Propers

DAILY MASS ONLINE

One of the earliest online apostolates dedicated to the Traditional Latin Mass, Old Roman TV began broadcasting the Holy Sacrifice on the Feast of the Assumption, 15 August 2008. During the COVID-19 pandemic, additional programming — devotions, catechesis, and conferences — was added to support the faithful in prayer and formation.

Support the daily Holy Mass on Old Roman TV by offering a Mass intention — for loved ones, thanksgiving, or the repose of souls. Your intention helps sustain the sacred liturgy and brings grace to those you remember before God’s altar.

Devotional Articles

Leave a Reply

Discover more from nuntiatoria

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading