Christmas is often portrayed as a season of joy, warmth, and peace. Yet for many, it brings sorrow, uncertainty, and even despair. In a world fractured by sin and filled with suffering, the familiar carols, glittering lights, and festive celebrations can feel strangely out of place.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow understood that tension. On Christmas Day in 1863, he sat in the shadow of deep grief. Two years earlier he had watched his wife, Fanny, die tragically after her dress caught fire; his own burns, from his frantic attempts to save her, were so severe he could not attend her funeral. In the quiet devastation that followed, he wrote, “I can make no record of these days. Better leave them wrapped in silence. Perhaps some day God will give me peace.”

Then, in 1863, his son Charles secretly joined the Union army and was later severely wounded. Though he would recover, Longfellow—now a widowed father of six—spent that Christmas unsure of his son’s future, surrounded by the pall of civil war.

As the Christmas bells rang out their message of “peace on earth, good-will to men,” they almost seemed to mock him. And so he penned his honest lament:

“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!”

How painfully honest. It recounts something that we can all feel at times: the world often feels so harsh, so dark, so incredibly broken that the idea of “peace on earth” seems almost naïve. His lament echoes Paul’s words to Timothy: “Evil men and imposters will proceed from bad to worse” (2 Timothy 3:13). 

The world mocks the song.

But Longfellow does not remain in despair. As the bells continue to ring, another stanza rises—full of hope, truth, and unwavering conviction:

“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.’”

This is not just sentimental optimism but theological conviction. Much like the Psalmist in Psalm 13, we see a heart awakening to the truth that God has not abandoned him, nor has He abandoned the world. He has not lost control or grown silent.

The truth that Longfellow discovers in that moment is the same truth that sustains the Apostle Paul in a Roman dungeon.

As we considered on Sunday, Paul wrote this letter to Timothy from what was almost certainly a cell in the Mamertine prison in Rome - a cold, dark pit set in the floor of an already cold, dark prison, accessible only through a hole above. He had been deserted by many, he was awaiting sentencing, winter was approaching. From every earthly perspective, his circumstances were quite the opposite of peaceful. And yet his letter demonstrates a disposition of confident, courageous calm. 

Why? 

Because Paul’s peace is anchored in his Savior, not his circumstances. 

“The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed,” he writes, “and will bring me safely to His heavenly kingdom.” (2 Timothy 4:18)

Paul doesn’t write that God will rescue him from prison but that God will rescue him from death itself. “The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail.” Peace is not the absence of trouble - it is the presence of Christ in the midst of it. (John 16:33)

This is the heart of Advent. 

The first Christmas did not arrive in a quiet, trouble-free world but one marked by political unrest, Roman oppression, fear, uncertainty, and darkness. Yet into this world the angels boldly declare: 

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.” (Luke 2:14) 

Not because the world was about to experience peace 

but because the Prince of Peace had come.

And He remains the Prince of Peace today. 

Perhaps this season finds you carrying burdens or sorrows no one else sees. Perhaps the world around you feels unsteady or your heart unsettled. Perhaps, like Longfellow, despair seems easier to embrace than the promise of peace. 

Take heart! God is not dead, nor does He sleep. The wrongs of this broken world will not prevail, Jesus, who is Himself our peace, will. 

For those who belong to Him, peace is not an ideal we wish for; it is a reality secured for us. Peace with God gives us courage in the darkest days. 

So when hate feels strong and mocks the song…

when circumstances feel unsettle…

When the world grows darker…

Take heart

For the bells of Christmas still ring deep.

The Prince of Peace has come.

He is coming again.

He will prevail!