[T]his child will be raised to life with Christ in the resurrection on the last day.
— Liturgy for the Burial of a Stillborn
Amidst the plethora of non-military holidays and memorials, there is one that is of special interest to me: October’s Child Loss Month. When I was stationed as Chaplain to the flagship chapel of Navy Region Southwest (central California), I was privileged to participate in a remembrance ceremony every October. On this solemn occasion, those who had lost a child, whether an unborn baby or a young adult, gathered for an evening ceremony to light votive candles, to share their faith stories, and to pray to the God who promises life in the midst of death. Please join me this year to explore three sacred works, based on the propers for burying a stillborn or unbaptized child in Lutheran Service Book Agenda.
Psalm 139
Psalm 139 is among the many psalms that speak of God forming the psalmist (and all of us) from the moment of conception, and then moving through the life of the psalmist and often to death. Consider, for instance, verses 13–18, slightly modified from the King James Version:
For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb.
I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made:
marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.
My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret,
and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect;
and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.
How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand:
when I awake, I am still with Thee.
Behold, the sweet mystery of life! God the father has created mankind to bear fruit and multiply through the marvelous and mysterious oneness of man and woman. We are indeed “fearfully and wonderfully made,” for even the ministerial use of science will never fully fathom the gift of being human. Especially noteworthy here is the phrase, “When I awake, I am still with Thee.” These words are also the first words of the Introit for Easter Sunday in the older lectionaries. Here the psalmist prays that, when he awakes tomorrow, he would still be living under God’s watchful eye. Christ prayed that after a three-day “sleep” in the tomb, He would rise from the dead and return to the Father. And the grieving Christian, even at the grave, prays that God would lead him through this vale of tears to the final resurrection of the body. In the following setting of the entire Psalm in Anglican Chant, notice how the music carries (rather than paints) the text, allowing the text to speak clearly to grieving hearers with the good news of Christ’s abiding presence.
Scripture Reading: Jeremiah 31:15–17
The story of child loss in the Old and New Testaments is captured in the sequence hymn, “A Voice from Ramah.” The text echoes, in Old Testament terms, the story of Rachel, who so desired to have children that she considered herself to be dead without them (Gen. 30:1). When old Israel was later led into Babylonian captivity, the captives were first assembled in Ramah (Jer. 40:1). Thus, in this reading from Jeremiah, Rachel wept for her descendants as they prepared to be led into Babylonian captivity. In the New Testament, the slaughter of the holy innocents (Matt. 2:16–18) echoes this same theme when Herod would stop at nothing to eliminate the newborn King of the Jews. Thus Rachel wept once more for her children, but not without “hope for [her] future . . . that [her] children [would] come back to their own country” (Jer. 31:1), as sure as those who fall asleep in Jesus are at home in His arms.
The Venerable Bede (672/673–735), one of the great poets of the Middle Ages, took up this theme in a day when folks were surrounded by death with greater severity and frequency than most of us will ever know. See how the text progresses from law to gospel, from death to life, and from despair to hope. The first phrase of each stanza is repeated as an antiphon at the end of each stanza, lending thematic unity to text. The composer, Bertram Luard-Selby (1853–1918), has succeeded in lending a sense of pathos and angst to the text, but not without a sense of hope, especially via the dance motifs in the instruments.
The Venerable Bede (672/673–735), one of the great poets of the Middle Ages, took up this theme in a day when folks were surrounded by death with greater severity and frequency than most of us will ever know. See how the text progresses from law to gospel, from death to life, and from despair to hope. The first phrase of each stanza is repeated as an antiphon at the end of each stanza, lending thematic unity to text. The composer, Bertram Luard-Selby (1853–1918), has succeeded in lending a sense of pathos and angst to the text, but not without a sense of hope, especially via the dance motifs in the instruments.
A voice from Ramah was there sent,
A voice of weeping and lament:
When Rachel mourned the children’s sword,
Whom for the tyrant’s sword she bore.
Who having tasted earthly woe
Eternal triumph now they know:
For whom the cruel torments rent
A voice from Ramah was there sent.
Fear not, O little flock and blest,
The lion that your life oppressed!
To heavenly pastures ever new
The heav’nly Shepherd leadeth you;
Who, dwelling now on Sion’s hill
The Lamb’s dear footsteps follow still:
By tyrant there no more distressed,
Fear not, O little flock and blest!
And every tear is wiped away
By your dear Father’s hands for aye;
Death has no pow’r to hurt you more
Whose own is life’s eternal store.
And all who sow in peril weep,
In everlasting joy shall reap:
What time they shine in heavenly day,
And every tear is wiped away.
— Text: The Venerable Bede, alt., cento
Hymn: “In the Midst of Earthy Life”
This is probably one of the lesser known hymns of Martin Luther (1483–1546), which is truly a pity. It bears the marks of Luther’s other hymns: the revision of a medieval text to proclaim the gospel, the use of a tune that reflects the text, and the intent to be sung within the church year or the Christian life. The opening phrase, Media vita sunt / “In the midst of earthly life,” echoes a text of the Middle Ages that was commonly prayed as bodies were carried in procession to the grave yard. But see how Luther did not leave the law to prevail, for the text as a whole carries the singer from the lowest depths of this fallen world to the highest joy that heaven affords. Indeed, each stanza is a miniature sermon, proclaiming the strength of the law and the fullness of the gospel. Of special note is the last phrase, which is common within Luther’s hymns, Kyrieleis / “Lord, have mercy.” God the Father has mercy in Christ, whose “precious blood was shed to win / Full atonement for our sin.”
In the midst of earthly life
Snares of death surround us;
Who shall help us in the strife
Lest the Foe confound us?
Thou only, Lord, Thou only.
We mourn that we have greatly erred,
That our sins Thy wrath have stirred.
Refrain: Holy and righteous God! Holy and mighty God!
Holy and all-merciful Savior! Eternal Lord God!
Save us lest we perish
In the bitter pangs of death.
Have mercy, O Lord!
In the midst of death's dark vale
Powers of hell o'ertake us.
Who will help when they assail,
Who secure will make us?
Thou only, Lord, Thou only.
Thy heart is moved with tenderness,
Pities us in our distress.
Refrain
In the midst of utter woe
All our sins oppress us,
Where shall we for refuge go,
Where for grace to bless us?
To Thee, Lord Jesus, only.
Thy precious blood was shed to win
Full atonement for our sin.
Refrain
Text: The Lutheran Hymnal 590
Martin Luther knew something about child loss, having lost a newborn, Elizabeth, as well as an adolescent, Margaret. He knew the “snares of death,” the “powers of hell,” and the “sins [that] oppress us,” as he articulates so clearly in this hymn. But he also knew the God who is “holy and righteous,” that He might share His righteousness with us in the means of grace; who is “holy and mighty,” that He might use the power of His might to save and comfort us; and who is “holy and all-merciful,” that He would share His mercy with us through Him who is the Resurrection and the Life. These glorious truths allowed Luther to add “Have mercy, Lord” to this hymn. And they allow us, even while weeping at the grave of a child, to turn the opening phrase of this hymn on its ear and boldly proclaim, “In the midst of death, life has us surrounded – the rich and abundant life of Jesus Christ.”
+ Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! +
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