Week 51: Classic Christmas Songs Say It Best
Dear Loved Ones,
Thank you to all who sent me Christmas cards! In a following email, I'll attach a picture of my favorite card from a child in the Tithing Hill ward.
Trivia fact: W.W. Phelps rewrote Joy to the World to say "Joy to the world, the Lord WILL come." Millennialism was a big deal to the early Saints in Independence. So when you go through the hymn book, Joy to the World comes up as a Phelps-authored song, even though the lyrics have now been matched back to their original version.
In 2015, I had just turned nineteen and planned on being a missionary in the next few months. My gifts were few and mission-related because my parents planned on me being gone. I stayed up and sat in front of the Christmas tree, just watching the lights, because I thought it was the last time I'd see my family's tree and decorations. My next two Christmases would be in the mission field.
But then they weren't. And looking at the Christmas tree made me sad. Last Christmas brought me a glorious sense of FINALLY that I'm rehashing this year as I'm finally away from home, and next year, I'll finally be back from a mission. Oh, I'm so looking forward to the rest of my life without the stress of not being able to plan out my life for years at a time. I never knew whether I'd be barred from serving again or not. Three happy Christmases, strung in a row.
Being able to finally go on a mission was nice, yes, but very bittersweet because I had no idea whether I'd be allowed to make it last. I was reading the Nephite Christmas story earlier today and I found this verse:
And it came to pass that they did make a great uproar throughout the land; and the people who believed began to be very sorrowful, lest by any means those things which had been spoken might not come to pass.
I was reading that in a paper copy of the Book of Mormon, but when I pulled it up on my gospel library account to copy paste the verse, it had a note on the word sorrowful, dated Christmas 2015. It said, "It's okay to have doubts. Everyone has doubts."
I love finding time capsules from my past self. Sometimes, she gives me just what I need. I'd just been about to type that it's okay to have doubts. About whether or not you'll be happy. About whether God is actually looking out for you. About whether Jesus Christ's Atonement can touch your life in any kind of meaningful, helpful way. About whether this church is true. Faithful Nephites staked their lives on that star appearing, but they were still sorrowful. You, dear friend, are not the first to feel sorrowful at Christmastime.
My favorite Christmas song is I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. The author, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, lost his wife, Fanny, in a fire two years before and buried her on their eighteenth wedding anniversary. They have a great love story, but the ending is tragic. And that Christmas, Henry and Fanny's son, Charles, was critically wounded in the Civil War. Deleted verses (I'll attach the full original poem below) talk about the "black, accursed mouth" of cannons thundering from the South. I'm guessing they were removed to universalize the song, make it less about Henry's personal struggle in the Civil War days so it can fit neatly into whatever you, the listener, are struggling with this Christmas season. This is a song about finding peace and solace on Christmas Day, even when nothing seems to be going right. There was peace for Henry, peace for the Nephites, and peace for you.
Merry Christmas! God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. He will come for you.
-Sister Smith
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!"
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."
Thank you to all who sent me Christmas cards! In a following email, I'll attach a picture of my favorite card from a child in the Tithing Hill ward.
Trivia fact: W.W. Phelps rewrote Joy to the World to say "Joy to the world, the Lord WILL come." Millennialism was a big deal to the early Saints in Independence. So when you go through the hymn book, Joy to the World comes up as a Phelps-authored song, even though the lyrics have now been matched back to their original version.
In 2015, I had just turned nineteen and planned on being a missionary in the next few months. My gifts were few and mission-related because my parents planned on me being gone. I stayed up and sat in front of the Christmas tree, just watching the lights, because I thought it was the last time I'd see my family's tree and decorations. My next two Christmases would be in the mission field.
But then they weren't. And looking at the Christmas tree made me sad. Last Christmas brought me a glorious sense of FINALLY that I'm rehashing this year as I'm finally away from home, and next year, I'll finally be back from a mission. Oh, I'm so looking forward to the rest of my life without the stress of not being able to plan out my life for years at a time. I never knew whether I'd be barred from serving again or not. Three happy Christmases, strung in a row.
Being able to finally go on a mission was nice, yes, but very bittersweet because I had no idea whether I'd be allowed to make it last. I was reading the Nephite Christmas story earlier today and I found this verse:
And it came to pass that they did make a great uproar throughout the land; and the people who believed began to be very sorrowful, lest by any means those things which had been spoken might not come to pass.
I was reading that in a paper copy of the Book of Mormon, but when I pulled it up on my gospel library account to copy paste the verse, it had a note on the word sorrowful, dated Christmas 2015. It said, "It's okay to have doubts. Everyone has doubts."
I love finding time capsules from my past self. Sometimes, she gives me just what I need. I'd just been about to type that it's okay to have doubts. About whether or not you'll be happy. About whether God is actually looking out for you. About whether Jesus Christ's Atonement can touch your life in any kind of meaningful, helpful way. About whether this church is true. Faithful Nephites staked their lives on that star appearing, but they were still sorrowful. You, dear friend, are not the first to feel sorrowful at Christmastime.
My favorite Christmas song is I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. The author, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, lost his wife, Fanny, in a fire two years before and buried her on their eighteenth wedding anniversary. They have a great love story, but the ending is tragic. And that Christmas, Henry and Fanny's son, Charles, was critically wounded in the Civil War. Deleted verses (I'll attach the full original poem below) talk about the "black, accursed mouth" of cannons thundering from the South. I'm guessing they were removed to universalize the song, make it less about Henry's personal struggle in the Civil War days so it can fit neatly into whatever you, the listener, are struggling with this Christmas season. This is a song about finding peace and solace on Christmas Day, even when nothing seems to be going right. There was peace for Henry, peace for the Nephites, and peace for you.
Merry Christmas! God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. He will come for you.
-Sister Smith
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!"
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."
Comments
Post a Comment