I've met a similar scene multiple times: I enter a room where a mother is holding a small, blanket-wrapped package. The room is thick with grief; the mother crying and the husband with a look of stress on his face. I am there to talk about what they want to do with the remains of their miscarried child. It was in those moments that some of the discussions I had earlier in some seminary classrooms came back to mind, much to my displeasure and a bit to my anger.
In two theology classes, two different professors brought up the subject of infant death and salvation. In both professors, the doctrine of Original Sin loomed large, sufficient to damn from the moment of birth. When asked about infants that die, one replied, “I know you won't like it, but you have to have the courage to say that they are sinful, without faith, and therefore, under any criteria we can measure, condemned.” The argument was that if you allow for one instance of salvation without faith, you are soon on the road to universalism, then atheism, all over the question of if infants that die are damned.
The question I asked then was about 2 Samuel 12, where David's son dies at seven days old (a day before circumcision). When informed of the death, David replies “Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” (2 Samuel 12:23) I was then informed that was a bad text to use, partly because the son died for David's sin and David was merely talking about the place of the dead, and judgment occurs later, where we would assume they will be parted again with David heading heavenward and the infant, towards damnation. The answer seemed at the time a poor one, for it seemed to dismiss rather than explain the reaction of David. Who would be happy to briefly see their child again before they are ushered off to hell? Was that David's relief?
Here, I stood before a woman and father who had just lost a child, even before seven days. They did not care to hear about my former professor's “courage” in declaring the probable damnation of their child or dismissal of David's source of hope. The pastoral comment I often told believers was, with that most inappropriate text rolling around my mind, was something along the lines of: "though he won't return to be with you, know you will go to meet him someday."
My first professor may not be happy that I used the very text he warned us not to use, but he wasn't in the room. I do remember the same discussion in another class with a bit of a different answer from my other professor. He said faith seems to be what the Scripture always tells us we ought to have to be assured of salvation. Yet, salvation also involves God's election/choice and his grace. This other professor ended the question by saying he wouldn't answer the question definitively, because it wasn't his decision to make. Original Sin is sufficient to damn, God's grace is sufficient to save.
The question seems not to be between “courage” and "weakness" but between presumption and humility. The second seems much more appropriate for pastoral care. It is also where the Westminster Confession comes out where in Ch 10.3 it states: “Elect infants, dying in infancy, are regenerated, and saved by Christ, through the Spirit, who worketh when, and where, and how he pleaseth:” No observable faith is mentioned and I don't think the Westminster Confession is an inclusivist document or on the road to universalism because it allows for salvation without observable faith. God needs no permission or logical justification from us to save whom he will, whether we see faith, or give the child the sign of the covenant.
Indeed, Jesus often seems to welcome children and especially the children of believers well before they have an observable faith by which to respond. Mothers bring, carry even, babies to Jesus to touch/bless (Luke 18:15-17). Fascinating to me is that Jesus did not reject these little heathens. He did not ask the mothers to delay until they had faith and could be proven disciples, but just blessed the babies as these mothers wanted. Would we wish to say that Jesus lacked the courage to correct these mothers in their ignorant theology which valued the children of believers as blessable and valuable, and as belonging to the kingdom of heaven?
David's words about going to his son were spoken before his son was circumcised, before his son had observable faith, and with a hope that was unexplainable if he thought his son to be damned. The same man who declared his culpability from conception (Psalm 51) also declares his hope for his son (2 Samuel 12). And when walking into a room of grieving parents, when being a pastor to those parents that lose children, I can't say that God saves all children. But I can't say God damns them either. I can say: David had a hope, Christ welcomed the children of believers and we are called to trust God's goodness and election. These together give me a strong inclination to share David's hope for the reunion of believers and their departed infant children.
For centuries now, there has been a move to understand Christianity more by the religious experience it provides than by its doctrines. We want to feel God, or at least feel better. We want to see our commitment or sobriety or intimacy with God. We want to see our lives here and now improve. The crucifixion of Christ seems like an important, even necessary, event historically, but not anything that needs to be highlighted today. It may be a moving story, but how will it help my work on Tuesday or my marriage tonight?
