Our church recently celebrated “Sanctity of Life Sunday,” in which we acknowledge the sanctity of all human life, from conception to natural death. We affirm this not only through the liturgy of the word and sacraments but we included a few songs and hymns proclaiming the Gospel of Life. One hymn that our choir sang caused me to ponder the humanity of children in the womb. It reminded me that those children who will die from abortion are not just tissue, fetal beings, or the product of conception, but they have a face; they bear “imago dei” the very likeness and face of God Himself.

       This is nothing new to any of us who have stood with our preborn brothers and sisters affirming and proclaiming their personhood. The hymn is a lullaby to the children who were slaughtered because of Herod’s rage and ultimate hatred of Jesus Christ and his Kingship. It echoes what we all feel we need to express to these children.

I’m sorry that someone didn’t love you enough to keep you.

I’m sorry that your family abandoned you.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to save you.

I’m sorry.

The hymn captures these feelings of pity saying, ” That woe is me, poor Child for Thee! And every mourn and day, For thy parting neither say nor sing…”  

        I am convinced that it is not enough that I speak or write about abortion. I will be held accountable for my actions in defending the unborn. It is I who want to hear when God asks those children, ” Do you know him?”  that I may hear, ” Yes, he tried to save me.”

      I encourage you to ponder these words and contemplate that there are children today who will never hear a lullaby, never experience the love of a parent, never hear words of comfort from another human being.

  

Lully, lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
Lullay, thou little tiny Child,
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
O sisters too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day
This poor youngling for whom we do sing
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
Herod, the king, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day
His men of might, in his own sight,
All children young to slay.
That  woe is me, poor Child for Thee!
And every mourn and day,
For thy parting neither say nor sing,
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.

 Peace, Jacob