Sorrow-Bought Peace
By Anthony Casperson
12-14-24

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.”

This particular verse of I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day sounds like it could’ve been written today. Peace is the last thing that we think about when we look around us right now. Some are too busy to have anything close to peace. Others feel so alone, despite the people running past. And losses are more noticeable when everyone gathers together.

Sorrow is more prevalent than peace to us.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow certainly felt like that as he heard the bells play on the Christmas Day that he wrote the poem upon which the song is based. The American Civil War raged that year. News that his son had been injured in the war rang along with those bells. And no doubt, fears of loss echoed his mourning from the death of his wife a couple of years previous.

He felt pain. And all that he could hear was mocking from the bells that were meant to ring forth peace.

A whole lot of us feel it too. It seems like we have to shove down our pain and depression and anxiety in order to put on the smiling faces that everyone expects us to have this time of year. We sing of hope and love and peace and joy when they all feel like they’re nothing more than fabled lies. Bullies that mock us in our grief, despair, and sorrow.

But the song has more verses to than just this one. It also reminds us that God is not dead. Nor does he sleep. The Prince of peace is ready to enter in. The Word of God ready to be our light and life. And with verse after verse, the unbroken song and chant sublime rings forth like a ceaseless metallic rhythm.

“Peace on earth. Good will to men.”

We ask how that can be. How can someone who finally understands our plight of depression defect to the other side? How can those words join the myriad others that mock us with unfulfilled fairytales?

The answer is right there in the song. Words that call us to look to our Lord.

Jesus is with us in the problems of this life. Not calling us to join him in putting on a brave and happy face, but calling us to join him in being sorrow-known. We’re not alone in the difficulties and pain and loss. He experienced them too.

In Isaiah 52:13-53:12, we see the Suffering Servant of the Lord. The Servant whose appearance was so marred he barely looked human. More like an “it” than a “him.” He was despised and rejected. Sorrow-known and acquainted with grief. One from whom many would hide their faces, if he were to walk past them. He was wounded and crushed, afflicted by God.

The sorrow and grief and pain and loneliness we feel, it’s not alien to him. He’s been there. And understands what it is to be in our position. It’s for that reason he came as a baby. And the reason he died on the cross.

But there’s more to this Servant’s role than just suffering so that he could understand us. Isaiah 53:5b reminds us that “upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed.”

It is because of his sorrow that he bought our peace.

In Hebrew, the word “peace”—shalom—means more than tranquility and a ceasing of war. It means “wholeness.” A completeness where all needs are met.

That’s who Jesus is for us. The wounded healer who stands with us in our loneliness. The one who fills in our losses with his presence. The one who knows what we need, and is willing to provide for us.

Again, don’t hear the false promises that we want those words to say. He won’t—in this life—give us back those we’ve lost. He won’t miraculously take away every pain and hurt. Not even most of them. And he won’t lead us to only happy times.

But when sorrow comes to know us, remember that Jesus also knows those who are his. The Sorrow-known Savior knows us. And is with us through our pain.

It was through his suffering that he bought us. His wounds gave us peace. Real peace. Not the mockery of smiling masks. Not the forgery that’s prevalent in the season. But real peace. The wholeness that only he can bring to us.

And so, when we feel the despair of mocking songs of the season, let’s remember the truth of peace. The wholeness bought by the suffering of our Savior.

Let’s hear the bells on Christmas Day and sing along with the unbroken song, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men.”