Christmas Eve
I heard the bel l s on Christmas Day Their old familiar carols play. And wild and sweet the words repeat Of Peace on earth, good will to men. Peace on earth, good will to men. I 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. 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.' 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'. Peace on earth, good will to men. For so long now my default “go to” carol over advent has been “O come o come Emmanuel”. I’ve appreciated its element of lament, the great theology in it, the cry of the hurting human heart “O come!”, and the reply of heaven, “Rejoice