In the midst of the Civil War, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was troubled by the disparity between songs of peace and sounds of war. In March of 1863, his son Charley left home to fight with the Union against his father’s wishes. In November of that same year, Charley returned home to a long arduous recovery from a gunshot wound to his back. Two years earlier, Fanny Longfellow had died tragically in an accidental fire. Nursing his son back to health while grieving the loss of his beloved wife and observing the countless casualties of war, Longfellow penned these words: “And in despair I bowed my head; ‘there is no peace on earth,’ I said. ‘For hate is strong, and mocks the song of peace on earth, good-will to men.’”
Longfellow’s poem was the basis for our modern carol, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. The song’s message highlights the seeming conflict between promised peace and present pain. The church bells ring out a melody echoing the angelic announcement of an otherwise obscure birth (Luke 2:14). The condescension of God into his own creation was good news of great joy (Luke 2:10). But for Longfellow, the ringing of the bells was overpowered by the firing of the canons and the wailing of the wounded. Not much has changed since these well-known words were penned.
There has scarcely been a moment in history when war was not present in some part of the world. Even in places where there is no military conflict, there is no shortage of strife. We see it in our streets and in our homes. Nearly every time I pick up groceries or go to my favorite shopping center, there are homeless people asking for help. That could be me, I think to myself, were the circumstances just slightly different. Born to different parents or with different resources. An accident, an injury, a mental illness. Yes, there are not nearly as many degrees of separation as I’ve often thought.
Last year, I had the privilege to mentor a young lady who spent most of her life in foster care. She shared her story recently, describing life in various motel rooms where she wondered if she and her siblings would have enough food to eat. She said that after she was placed in foster care, she wondered, “Why does no one want me, and why is life punishing me repeatedly? How could a fourteen year old have had enough time to do something so horrendous to be worthy of this prolonged discipline?” Her story breaks my heart in new places every time I hear it.
In the city where I live, children are currently housed in facilities that were never intended for them, simply because there’s no other place for them to go. Addiction steals children from their parents and parents from their children. Memory loss takes our loved ones from us long before their bodies are laid to rest.
The bells are still ringing, but it’s awfully hard to hear them.
Where is this peace on earth? It’s a question that lays dormant in our minds, stirred to life by tragedy and disappointment. Have the promises of God failed? Absolutely not! It’s the timing and not the fulfillment of God’s promises that remains uncertain. That’s the whole point of advent—waiting for Christ to come. The nation of Israel groaned in exile, waiting for her promised deliverance, waiting to be rescued. But the Deliverer did not come as the people of God expected, and their freedom was not what they had anticipated. It was not an earthly kingdom that Jesus came to establish—at least not on the earth as we now know it. But thank God there will one day be a restored earth, where all the promises of God will see their fulfillment.
Then peeled the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth he sleep; the Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail, with peace on earth, good-will to men.”
This is our advent—waiting for his second coming when all things will be made new. At the return of Christ, the promise of peace on earth will be fully realized. At present, that peace resides more in a people than a place. It is the children of God, reconciled to him through faith in Christ, who embody this peace. God’s people are the “peace on earth” until he returns to establish his kingdom. We make him known by carrying his light into the dark places where the message of the bells is not yet heard. “This good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed in all the world…and then the end will come (Matthew 24:14).” Even so, come Lord Jesus (Revelation 22:20).”