Lully, lullah, thou little tiny child,
Bye bye, lully, lullay.
Lully, lullah, 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 sing,
"Bye bye, lully, lullay"?
Herod the king, in his raging,
Chargèd he hath this day
His men of might in his own sight
All young children to slay.
Then woe is me, poor child, for thee
And ever mourn and may
For thy parting neither say nor sing,
"Bye bye, lully, lullay."
(Traditional/ Sharp. Source)
Recording: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktgaToXxYfI&list=PLRB9xddXCxeg8TQ7RT4PxFdPQAG7A1ExM&index=11 or https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acAD34MG7Qs
This carol comes from a Coventry Mystery play, the 15th century Pageant of the Shearmen and Tailors. Mystery plays were medieval presentations of biblical stories, often organised by various craft guilds in towns across Europe, a different guild taking responsibility for each ‘episode’. The York mystery plays have been revived and take place every couple of years, telling the whole story of the bible across the ‘cycle’ of 48 plays.
Probably the most sombre of all the carols, the Coventry carol is told from the perspective of the mothers of children killed by King Herod in his attempt to kill Jesus, thinking that he would be a threat to his kingship (Matthew 2 v16-18). The mothers ask how they can save their children from Herod’s death sentence, and lament for their loss. The early version of the carol seems to have been in 3 parts (alto, tenor & baritone) as like all parts the mothers would have been played by men.
It’s not a nice story, and it understandably doesn’t tend to appear in school nativity plays. But it’s important not to sanitise stories like this, not to try to pretend everything is fine when it’s really not. It’s understandable to ask why God allows this to happen- why did so many children have to die because of his plan for his son? Could God have avoided this massacre? It’s hard to understand, just as we can find it hard to understand why God lets things happen the way they do today- when a loved one is ill, when people are going hungry, when injustice and prejudice seem to win. One thing we can understand, unfortunately, is that Herod is all too human in his insecurity and jealousy.
While it might seem jarring to find this in a carol book alongside the Sussex carol or Ding Dong Merrily, it does serve as a reminder that for many of us- and perhaps especially this year- there is sadness alongside the celebration of Christmas. Carols like this perhaps give us a way to acknowledge that grief, to lament, to ask the questions that have no answers. To recognise that we are not alone in our grief and, perhaps, to remember that God doesn't look away, but grieves with us.
The unanswered questions bring us back to Coventry. Wikipedia says that the BBC broadcast this carol at Christmas 1940, sung in the bombed out ruins of Coventry Cathedral. The ruined cathedral and the new one built next door contain symbols of peace and reconciliation. It feels appropriate to remember that alongside this carol. The scars of suffering cannot be undone, but it is not the end. There is hope in the dark- hope born as a baby at Bethlehem.
This carol comes from a Coventry Mystery play, the 15th century Pageant of the Shearmen and Tailors. Mystery plays were medieval presentations of biblical stories, often organised by various craft guilds in towns across Europe, a different guild taking responsibility for each ‘episode’. The York mystery plays have been revived and take place every couple of years, telling the whole story of the bible across the ‘cycle’ of 48 plays.
Probably the most sombre of all the carols, the Coventry carol is told from the perspective of the mothers of children killed by King Herod in his attempt to kill Jesus, thinking that he would be a threat to his kingship (Matthew 2 v16-18). The mothers ask how they can save their children from Herod’s death sentence, and lament for their loss. The early version of the carol seems to have been in 3 parts (alto, tenor & baritone) as like all parts the mothers would have been played by men.
It’s not a nice story, and it understandably doesn’t tend to appear in school nativity plays. But it’s important not to sanitise stories like this, not to try to pretend everything is fine when it’s really not. It’s understandable to ask why God allows this to happen- why did so many children have to die because of his plan for his son? Could God have avoided this massacre? It’s hard to understand, just as we can find it hard to understand why God lets things happen the way they do today- when a loved one is ill, when people are going hungry, when injustice and prejudice seem to win. One thing we can understand, unfortunately, is that Herod is all too human in his insecurity and jealousy.
While it might seem jarring to find this in a carol book alongside the Sussex carol or Ding Dong Merrily, it does serve as a reminder that for many of us- and perhaps especially this year- there is sadness alongside the celebration of Christmas. Carols like this perhaps give us a way to acknowledge that grief, to lament, to ask the questions that have no answers. To recognise that we are not alone in our grief and, perhaps, to remember that God doesn't look away, but grieves with us.
The unanswered questions bring us back to Coventry. Wikipedia says that the BBC broadcast this carol at Christmas 1940, sung in the bombed out ruins of Coventry Cathedral. The ruined cathedral and the new one built next door contain symbols of peace and reconciliation. It feels appropriate to remember that alongside this carol. The scars of suffering cannot be undone, but it is not the end. There is hope in the dark- hope born as a baby at Bethlehem.
Coventry's medieval Cathedral, destroyed by bombing in the Second World War, taken by me in 2006.
