Faith Works 12-19-2025
Jeff Gill
Hearing the hope of heaven in certain sounds
___
Christmas joys are a taste of our hope of heaven.
That's an experience many of us see and even smell in these holiday weeks, with lights on the snow, mace and cardamom in certain recipes, scents in the air unique to the season.
There are also sounds which carry us far above and beyond our immediate circumstances. Handbells in church, steeple bells heard from a distance; choirs singing in majestic harmonies, even the sudden shock of silence ringing after a hard cutoff from a closing note, before the applause begins.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow nearly lost his son in the fierce battles that followed the better known Gettysburg campaign, as Meade's Army of the Potomac pursued the Confederate troops south over the Potomac, and to their stand along the Rapidan River. Lieutenant Charles Longfellow was shot trying to cross Mine Run with his troops in November, but December brought word to Boston that he would survive his wounds. The poet sat down and wrote these words: "I heard the bells on Christmas day, their old familiar carols play; and wild and sweet the words repeat, of peace of earth, good will to men."
He continued to speak of war, of sorrow, of fear and doubt. Then he admitted in verse "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!'"
But a sound he knew well from the streets of 1863 Boston turned the page, as it were. The poet went on: "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.'"
I've invited readers to consider a different, but more ancient pattern for Advent devotions, to reflect each week in turn on what the historic church called "the four last things: death, judgment, hell, and heaven." Heaven is our goal, our destination, in that outline, as it is for us.
Modern times have asked, sometimes harshly, if Heaven is just a cop-out, an excuse, to not worry or work on injustice or troubles in our own time. The usual phrase is "pie in the sky in the sweet by-and-by." If Heaven is justice deferred, it would be much less than it is; the hope of Heaven can be used in that way, but that's far from all it is.
In First Peter's opening, the apostle greets readers with "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you."
A living hope, an inheritance, a promise for a final reckoning which can help us in current struggles: that's what is "kept in heaven for you" according to the scriptures. Some we know have experienced it in full already, we call them saints. The reality of a place, a circumstance, an experience we call Heaven is something we catch glimpses of like a peaceful valley through fog far below, as we descend a dangerous mountain path. The lights are on, we are expected, but we aren't there yet.
The destination leads us on, though. We look forward to being at home there, even if only seeing it from a distance. Or tasting it, scenting the place, its smoke in the air from far off.
Or hearing the bells ring on ahead, a joyful celebration we look forward to joining.
May you hear those bells this Christmas, and may they give you hope.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he has heard those bells from far off. Tell him how you catch a sense of what is yet to come at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
Jeff Gill
Hearing the hope of heaven in certain sounds
___
Christmas joys are a taste of our hope of heaven.
That's an experience many of us see and even smell in these holiday weeks, with lights on the snow, mace and cardamom in certain recipes, scents in the air unique to the season.
There are also sounds which carry us far above and beyond our immediate circumstances. Handbells in church, steeple bells heard from a distance; choirs singing in majestic harmonies, even the sudden shock of silence ringing after a hard cutoff from a closing note, before the applause begins.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow nearly lost his son in the fierce battles that followed the better known Gettysburg campaign, as Meade's Army of the Potomac pursued the Confederate troops south over the Potomac, and to their stand along the Rapidan River. Lieutenant Charles Longfellow was shot trying to cross Mine Run with his troops in November, but December brought word to Boston that he would survive his wounds. The poet sat down and wrote these words: "I heard the bells on Christmas day, their old familiar carols play; and wild and sweet the words repeat, of peace of earth, good will to men."
He continued to speak of war, of sorrow, of fear and doubt. Then he admitted in verse "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!'"
But a sound he knew well from the streets of 1863 Boston turned the page, as it were. The poet went on: "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.'"
I've invited readers to consider a different, but more ancient pattern for Advent devotions, to reflect each week in turn on what the historic church called "the four last things: death, judgment, hell, and heaven." Heaven is our goal, our destination, in that outline, as it is for us.
Modern times have asked, sometimes harshly, if Heaven is just a cop-out, an excuse, to not worry or work on injustice or troubles in our own time. The usual phrase is "pie in the sky in the sweet by-and-by." If Heaven is justice deferred, it would be much less than it is; the hope of Heaven can be used in that way, but that's far from all it is.
In First Peter's opening, the apostle greets readers with "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you."
A living hope, an inheritance, a promise for a final reckoning which can help us in current struggles: that's what is "kept in heaven for you" according to the scriptures. Some we know have experienced it in full already, we call them saints. The reality of a place, a circumstance, an experience we call Heaven is something we catch glimpses of like a peaceful valley through fog far below, as we descend a dangerous mountain path. The lights are on, we are expected, but we aren't there yet.
The destination leads us on, though. We look forward to being at home there, even if only seeing it from a distance. Or tasting it, scenting the place, its smoke in the air from far off.
Or hearing the bells ring on ahead, a joyful celebration we look forward to joining.
May you hear those bells this Christmas, and may they give you hope.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he has heard those bells from far off. Tell him how you catch a sense of what is yet to come at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
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