The Slaughter of the Innocents


By guest columnist Rick Marschall, Special to ASSIST News Service

SWARTZ CREEK MI (ANS)  One of the most beautiful lullabies related to Christmas is known as the Coventry Carol. A mother’s song to her child, its lyrics from the late Medieval era remind us of Olde English, when the presence of French still sweetened the tongue: “By by, lully, lullay,” its comforting choruses end.

The song is soothing but eerily compelling, and even mysterious. Certainly, melancholia is a part of its appeal. Why? A lullaby (note the common roots with the comforting words of the chorus), identified with Christmas? Sad? Its tune, especially its oddly modern harmonies and dissonance, seems to transcend the ages.

In truth, no matter how re-purposed by contemporary performers or loving mothers at children’s bedtimes, the Coventry Carol is indeed melancholy: it was meant to solemnly memorialize an event full of sorrow, dread, and grief. The song imagines the lament of a mother protecting her child about to be slaughtered by soldiers of King Herod. As recorded in the Book of Matthew, the Roman-appointed ruler of Palestine was aware of the prophecy that the King of the Jews would be born in Bethlehem… and that the magi had warned Joseph to hide the child of Mary as a precaution against a cruel ruler’s deadly intentions. All this fulfilled Old Testament prophecies (Jesus’ parents fled with Him to Egypt).

In Herod’s bloodlust, and in fear that another king of the Jews would be his rival, he decreed that male babies under the age of one in Judea should be killed. This became known as the Slaughter of the Innocents or the Massacre, or Martyrdom, of the Holy Innocents.

In annual Christmas programs during the Middle Ages, nativity plays akin to passion plays of another time in the church calendar were performed in many chapels and towns. In Coventry, England, the Guild of Shearmen and Tailors between the late 1300s and the late 1500s traditionally staged Nativity plays. A day to acknowledge this slaughter became a day of observance, an event in the church calendar with a call to introspection—a day that our contemporary world scarcely recognizes any more.

But here we are: the “Innocents’ Day,” sometimes called Childermass—following Christmass —was observed around this time of year. December 27 was the date for many of the ancient churches in the Middle East, the ancient rites of the Syriacs, Chaldeans, Maronites, Syrians; December 28 is the traditional observance date of the Roman Catholic church, the Lutheran and evangelical churches, and the Church of England. Most of the Orthodox churches marked the day yesterday. In a German tradition of that time, youngsters exchanged roles with adult clergy and teachers on Childermass; sometimes students for the priesthood presided over worship services, with clergy in the pews.

Remembering the Slaughter of the Innocents reminds us that all the aspects of Christ’s birth were not unalloyed joy. The birth pangs of Mary were prophesied in Scripture, even from the Garden, but the purport was not solely one mother’s labor. The Bible addressed the difficulties attendant to the coming Messiah’s birth—and, indeed, His life, ministry, rejection, betrayal, and death. Yes, the resurrection was foretold, but His life would not be one without pain and suffering, clearly.  

In the Slaughter of the Innocents we acknowledge a sorrowful side of this King’s incarnation. This truth, infrequently recognized in today’s churches where clapping, hopping, smiling, and colorful banners predominate is still truth. Joy is ours, and we rejoice at the reality of God-with-us, and the peace that is to come; but we need to remember that there is much that is serious about Christianity.

 The young girls in Nigeria who were kidnapped and violated because they were Christian… schoolchildren who were massacred by Muslims for not following Mohammed... the children in East Asia who are imprisoned or executed when they refuse to renounce Christ. I could detail places and dates, but you see the headlines. Please read the stories, not just the headlines; and pray.  

   
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