The 1860s saw pain and suffering for many Americans, particularly for poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. In 1861, Longfellow’s wife died in a tragic fire after Longfellow attempted to save her from the flames engulfing their house. Two years later, Longfellow’s son enlisted in the Union Army during the Civil War, but was severely wounded in battle. As the nation raged in battle of brother against brother, and as Longfellow experienced personal traumas echoing the plight of Job in the Old Testament, Longfellow penned this work. It pictures one Christmas morning when creation seems in order.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
We are given that sweet hope of all beings living harmoniously with one another and in communion with God. Just as man once dwelt in that garden in Eden that the Lord God planted, where “every tree pleasant to the sight” and where the “river flowed,” God promises the day where “the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them.” We are promised, “the earth shall be full of knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
The glorious unison of bells ringing in all of Christendom, bound in rhythmic unity, paints the image of the time, in Christ’s own words, when the Father will join all his sheep to “inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” For it is written for us who maintain the faith in hope, that one day, “every knee shall bow … and every tongue shall confess”—“holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come.”
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
The third stanza reminds readers of the supremacy of God over his creation. The ringing of the bells in conjunction with the world revolving from night and day is in accord with God’s design for the pattern of the Sun and Moon in his perfect balance of nature. As King David testifies, even the Sun and Moon praise their Creator along with the voices and instruments of the Church.
These first few stanzas provide dual imagery. They confess the current beauty of God’s creation and harmony of God’s children embodying the Groom of the Church, that survive the ravages of human sin, which therefore reminds us of God’s continual presence in the lives of men and offer a dimmed-down vision of what the New Heaven and the New Earth will be like.
The tranquility that lulls readers in a dream thrusts us to wake when reality hits.
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Just as Longfellow poignantly illustrates the condition of man, enthralled in his own sin and evil, both King David and St. Paul point to the same. For “the Lord looks down from heaven on the children of man, to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God. They have all turned aside, together they became corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one.” In our world, the violence, oppression, greed, pride, perverseness, all trample the beauty and harmony intended in the creation order, just as the thunder of canons drowns out the sweet carols.
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!”
In the sixth stanza, after observing the violence and destruction interrupting the solemnity of the morning, Longfellow cannot help but despair in cynicism and hopelessness. Longfellow finds good company with the prophet Jeremiah, who cries out, “Why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive?” Longfellow echoes King Solomon, who observes “the oppressions that are done under the sun,” for “behold, the tears of the oppressed, and they had no one to comfort them!” In reading this stanza, I am reminded of the cries of the martyrs at the throne of God: How long must evil persist?
While the first three stanzas show the existence of peace, harmony, and communion in the early verses of Genesis and the culmination of Revelation, it is the fifth and seventh stanzas that provide the vivid eschatology found in Longfellow’s poem.
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Longfellow wants readers to feel the anguish within his heart over the violent tremors in his life, along with the shell-shock syndrome reverberating through society over the destructive war. However, he perhaps inadvertently shows us God’s looming judgment on man for his rebellion against the divine order. Daniel prophesies, “There shall be a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time. Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.”
As Longfellow speaks of an earthquake rupturing the stones and dirt of the continent, in the final day, the angel will pour out a bowl onto the earth, causing “flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, and a great earthquake, such as there had never been since man was on the earth.” As God’s justice triumphs, the angels will cry out, “fallen, fallen is Babylon the great … the great city [will] be thrown down with violence.”
Then pealed 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.”
In the righteous finale, Longfellow’s church bells toll victorious over the violent sounds of war. At this moment, on the proverbial mountaintop, Longfellow shouts that God is not dead or estranged, but defeats the Wrong and prevails the Right. Amid wickedness, Longfellow prophesies that Christ is coming soon to judge man for his sins and rule righteously.
Just as St. John was shown, there shall be from the clouds reigning in, a New Heaven and a New Earth, for the old things shall pass. God and his armies of angels and archangels will cast fire down from Heaven to destroy Satan’s armies and throw Satan and his band of deceivers into the lake of fire for eternity.
In that time, for the justified and glorified inhabitants of the New Heaven and New Earth, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying, nor pain anymore.” Not only that, but God shall dwell with them and they will be his people. Just as the church bells ringing aloud and Longfellow’s confession of God’s sovereignty restores the peace of the belfries and Christmas morning carols, so will God’s New Heaven and New Earth restore Eden as found in Genesis.
With global wars, a recent pandemic, hostile domestic divisions, flaunted immorality, and heresy and apostasy within the Church, it is easy to feel the despair Longfellow held amid his personal agonies and the American crisis of the time. I too at times wallow in the hopelessness and despair of sin, not only in my life but all around me in the world. However, there is a common refrain mentioned in each stanza. Even in the dark images found in several stanzas, Longfellow wishes peace on earth and goodwill to men.
God’s children are called to be bearers of peace and goodwill on Earth. It is this common refrain that establishes the foundation for the final triumphant stanza. For this peace and goodwill that will sow the harvest for Christ’s second return, the return we prepare ourselves for, and remind ourselves of each Advent. For we all profess that Christ will come again, and in the words of St. John, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!”
Wesley Morgan is a Guest Writer. He is an Assistant Attorney General at the Virginia Office of the Attorney General.
