The Christmas Story We Don’t Want to Tell
There’s a shadow in the Christmas story that most of us avoid. While we celebrate the baby in the manger, we forget the babies in Bethlehem who didn’t survive.
Herod’s massacre of the innocents is recorded in Matthew 2:16-18. It’s horrific. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s part of the story.
Matthew quotes Jeremiah 31:15: “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”
Rachel—one of Israel’s matriarchs, buried near Bethlehem—becomes the voice of every mother who lost a child that night. Her ancient grief echoes through time, giving voice to unbearable sorrow.
Writing “Rachel’s Tears”
This was the hardest song to write. How do you honor such tragedy without exploiting it? How do you acknowledge the darkness without losing hope?
I knew it needed to be somber, reverent, almost medieval in feel—like a traditional lament. I wove in the exact phrases from Jeremiah: “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping… weeping and great mourning… refusing to be comforted… because they are no more.”
The song names Herod. It speaks of “the cries of Bethlehem.” It doesn’t sanitize or explain away the horror. It laments.
But it also points to hope. “One child escaped the tyrant’s hand, to grow and heal this broken land. He carried every sorrow known, every grief became His own.”
Jesus survived to carry the weight of all our grief—including the grief of Bethlehem.
The Theology
This song grapples with the problem of evil: How could a good God allow this? The answer isn’t simple or satisfying, but it’s true: God didn’t prevent evil that night, but He entered into it. He became one of the vulnerable ones. And ultimately, through His death and resurrection, He will redeem every tear, restore every loss, and make all things new.
The bridge declares: “The One who wept will wipe all tears. The One who mourned will calm our fears. What evil meant to steal away will be redeemed in heaven’s day.”
Every name is known. Every child is held. Nothing loved is ever lost in God’s hands.
Why This Matters Today
We live in a world full of Rachel’s tears—children lost to violence, disease, injustice. This song says: your grief is valid. Your tears matter. And one day, God will make it right.
Musical Approach
Sparse, haunting, medieval-inspired. Solo voice and harp, adding wooden flute and strings. It’s meant to feel ancient, timeless, sacred. The final chorus shifts toward hope—minor giving way to major—but it doesn’t rush. It honors the sorrow while pointing to redemption.
Coventry Carol Connection
This song is in the tradition of “Coventry Carol,” the 16th-century English song that also remembers the Holy Innocents. I wanted to bring that same reverence to a new generation.
We cannot truly celebrate the light without acknowledging the darkness. Rachel’s tears remind us: the cost of redemption was high, but the King who came was worth it.
