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Come - Peace On Earth
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Peace On Earth
Come
Luke 2:14
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. KJV
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests. NIV
Glory to God in the heavenly heights, Peace to all men and women on earth who please him. The Message
At Christmas, we sing the words, “Peace on earth, good will to men.” If we study the various translations of Luke 2:14, we find that true peace comes to those who have pleased God. God’s sweet words, sung by angels, are included in the famous poem, I heard the Bells On Christmas Day, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
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."
Tragedy struck Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on July 9, 1861. His wife, Fannie, was standing near an open window sealing the locks of her daughter’s hair when a spark flew out and caught her dress on fire. Henry heard her screams, ran to her aid, and desperately tried to put out the fire. Poor Fannie died painfully the next day. Henry, too badly burned to attend her funeral, was distraught. Several years later, while trying to rediscover the joy of Christmas, he wrote the famous poem that was later put to music by J. Baptise Calkin. (Reference - http://www.gnpcb.org/product/663575723509)
As Henry studied the scripture, he struggled with the word peace. The recent Battle of Gettysburg haunted him as he thought about America, torn by civil war. He wrote the 3rd verse of the poem.
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 Henry turned his thoughts to God. Perhaps he learned that true peace has nothing to do with country and everything to do with the heart as he penned the final verse of his poem.
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.
After 5 days, I had finally left Nebraska. I’d loved my time in Nebraska but was ready to move on. Nebraska is a long state and as I turned off Highway 80 and headed into Colorado on Highway 76, I felt the exhilaration of new adventure beginning. Highway 76 is a lonesome isolated bumpy road and when I noticed my gas gauge nearing a quarter of a tank, I felt some anxiety. I was talking to my best friend, Nancy.
“I should have filled up,” I said worriedly. I haven’t seen a gas station in miles.”
“Cheryle,” she said. “You have to be more careful than that. If something happens to you, I won’t have a best friend anymore.” Nancy worries about me continually and never misses a chance to voice her concerns. Every time she talks to me, she asks the same question. “When exactly are you coming home?”
“That’s a good sign,” I said. “The blue sign has a gas symbol on it.”
As I pulled off the road, I saw only 1 gas station. Everyone else on the highway had the same idea so I got in line. I noticed four shirtless tattooed young men sitting on the dinosaur in front of the station, taking pictures.
“Nancy,” I said. “This gas is going to cost a fortune. From the looks of these pumps, it will probably have bad gas. Not to mention the 4 men here with out shirts and covered with tattoos. I hope I live through this.” I was starting to understand why Nancy worried so much. I really shouldn’t say things like that to her but it is so much fun.
“Cheryle,” she said firmly. “You have to get gas.”
I got off the phone and pulled up to the pump. As I started pumping gas, a tiny car, packed from floor to ceiling with stuff, pulled up next to me. A weary thin woman with red and black dirty streaked spiked hair stepped to the gas pump. She had a large hoop earring piercing her right nostril and I found I couldn’t look anywhere else but her nose. I’m not all that fond of noses to begin with, but this one dripped from the dust. I wondered what it was like to blow your nose with a hoop through it. Did the hoop get stuck on the tissue? I’d be afraid I’d pull the hoop through the nose. I shuddered as I tried to reel in my grotesque thoughts.
A small waiflike boy with shaggy brown hair got out of the passenger side door. The woman said, “I’m not sure I want to drive through Denver tonight. We should stop before that.”
“Good idea,” the boy mumbled.
I looked at her and said, “You look like you are moving somewhere.”
“We are,” she said. “We’re moving from Vermont to Denver. We’ve come a long way.”
“What’s taking you to Denver?” I asked.
“I’m going to grad school,” she said.
“Wow,” I said. “How exciting. What are you majoring in?”
“Social work,” she said. “I still can’t believe this is happening. It seems surreal.”
I looked at the beautiful little boy. “Is this your son?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. I glanced at her finger and noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring. “We are both starting new schools next week.”
“Are you about 10 years old?” I asked.
“I’m nine,” he said sulkily.
“Are you going into fourth or fifth grade?” I asked.
“Fourth,” he said. “What is Pocket Full of Quarters?” He had looked at the side of Halleluiah.
“It’s my website,” I said. “I’m a Christian missionary, speaker, and writer. I travel all over the country. I was just in Vermont a few weeks ago. Have you been to Colorado before?”
“No but I know it’s pretty cool,” he said.
“I love Colorado. I talk to people about God,” I said. “Are you a Christian?”
“Nope,” he said firmly. “I believe in God but we don’t go to church and are not Christians. I actually believe in multiple gods.”
“Multiple God’s,” I said questioningly.
“Yes,” he said. “I read a lot of mythology. I believe in the Egyptian gods. I’ve been to Egypt you know.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “What an experience.”
“He’s a lucky boy,” the mom answered.
“I believe in God too,” I said to the boy. “My God is God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”
“That’s kind of like multiple Gods,” the mother said.
“Well,” I said. “Actually, it’s really 1 God with 3 faces. The Father is my creator, my daddy, my disciplinarian. Jesus the son is God in the flesh. He is my teacher and my Savior. God the Holy Spirit lives in me, gives me wisdom, and is my comforter.”
I looked at the little boy’s shirt. “Your shirt says ‘Peace on Earth. That line actually comes from my favorite book, the Bible.”
“My favorite books are about mythology,” the boy insisted stubbornly. “I get mad because I can’t find more books about Egypt.”
“Well,” I said. “I love the Bible. It actually says ‘Peace on earth good will towards man.’”
The boy looked at his mother. “I sang those words at Christmas.”
“That’s right,” I said. “Those words are in a Christmas Carol. Christmas is really about Jesus being born.”
“He really thinks a lot about God,” the mother said. “It’s like he is aware of spiritual things all the time.”
“He probably is,” I said. “God builds us with a need for Him. It is kind of like a homing pigeon – we are built with a need for God. If we aren’t directed in the right way, we’ll spend our life seeking out things that are a poor substitute for the real God. Your son is seeking the true God.”
“There’s a wasp in our car,” the boy said excitedly. “Unlock the door so I can get him out!”
The moment had passed. I climbed in Halleluiah, and prayed for this mother and son as I pulled out. I prayed that they would find the true peace on earth that comes from having found God’s favor. I prayed that the mother would help her son find the true God and maybe in the process find God herself.
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