Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Latter-day Saint
“How inexpressibly sad are all holidays.”

“How inexpressibly sad are all holidays.”

Last updated on: December 1, 2022 at 6:02 pm by Dan Peterson

“How inexpressibly sad are all holidays.” 2022-12-01T18:02:17-07:00 Dan Peterson

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

As I write, there are only twenty-five shopping days remaining until Christmas. But I hope that, amidst all of the frenetic activity that precedes the biggest holiday of the year, we’ll all be able to find at least a little bit of time for reflection.

Here is something that I wrote for Christmas 2012. It hadn’t been a good year for me. In fact, it was the worst year of my life. Among other things, suddenly and without warning I had lost my brother, my only sibling, in March of that year. (We were unusually close; my parents were already gone.) And then, only three months later, after nearly thirty pleasant years that had been almost completely free of even the slightest whiff of academic politics, I ran, without forewarning, right into a life-altering concentration of such politics that more than compensated for the previous long interval of serene career satisfaction. And my mother in law was grievously ill with the disease that would take her life the following spring.

Now, re-reading the column below with the benefit of hindsight, I think that the previous months must have subconsciously influenced the approach to Christmas that I adopted in it:

His first wife, Mary, died after a miscarriage. His second wife, Fanny, died in a freak household fire. Trying to save her, he himself was burned so badly that he couldn’t attend her funeral and, for the remaining decades of his life, couldn’t shave. His iconic image, still today, features a long white patriarchal beard.

“How inexpressibly sad are all holidays,” he wrote on the first Christmas after Fanny’s death. One year after her passing, he commented, “I can make no record of these days. Better leave them wrapped in silence. Perhaps someday God will give me peace.” His journal entry for 25 December 1862 reads: “‘A merry Christmas’ say the children, but that is no more for me.” Late in 1863, his eldest son, Charles, was severely wounded fighting for the Union in the American Civil War. Longfellow made no journal entry at all for Christmas that year.

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day,” he wrote on 25 December 1864. But the war still raged, and he was still in pain. “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 then his mood shifted. “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.'”

Mere words are wholly inadequate in the face of great human suffering, brought home to us in an especially horrifying way by last week’s report from Newtown, Connecticut. However, the central idea of Christianity, which we celebrate at this very season, is that God hasn’t confined himself to mere words.

“The Word was made flesh,” reports John, “and dwelt among us.” And, therefore, “the Light shineth in darkness” (John 1:14, 5). The God of Christianity is no unmoved mover, no absentee landlord, distant and unfeeling—let alone a hanging judge, a kind of cosmic Inspector Javert. Describing the Savior’s response to the death of his friend Lazarus, John 11:35 is the shortest verse in scripture but among the most significant: “Jesus wept.” “Then said the Jews,” in the next verse, “Behold how he loved him!”

Christmas is a child’s holiday, a day of wonders for kids. But it’s infinitely more.

Almost a century before the Savior’s birth in Palestine, the New World prophet Alma explained that Jehovah would come to earth, among other reasons, “that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12).

The Prophet Joseph Smith learned by revelation in 1832 that Christ “ascended up on high, as also he descended below all things, in that he comprehended all things, that he might be in all and through all things, the light of truth” (D&C 88:6).

There is no sorrow, no despair, no pain, no hopelessness that the Lord doesn’t know from direct experience. He didn’t just read about these things in a book.

In March 1839, Joseph Smith languished miserably in the jail at Liberty, Missouri, while his people, because of their trust in his teaching, were being driven from their homes during a brutal Midwestern winter. Seeking divine comfort, he was given an appalling list of sufferings and injustices and then gently reminded that “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?” (D&C 122:8).

The comfort seldom comes instantly. “Thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment,” said a revelation to Joseph (D&C 121:7). However, they lasted more than five years, ending only with his death at the hands of a mob.

But Julian of Norwich, the early English mystic (d. 1416), was nonetheless right when, under inspiration (as she claimed), she summed up her Christian hope in the simple words “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

And this is true only because the Savior (Immanuel, “God with us”) came into the world. The light of Christmas shines even brighter after the darkness of Newtown. Because he lives, its victims shall live also. (See John 14:19.)

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow lived in this house, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, adjacent to Harvard College, for fifty years. Previously, in 1775-1776, it had served as the headquarters for General George Washington.
(Wikimedia Commons public domain image)

I continue to be saddened by the passing of Kent Budge, who most recently posted comments here as dCyl. I valued his contributions on this blog and, as I continue to think about an eventual conference on science as a religious enterprise and experience, I would have valued his offered participation. Today, I received a kind note from his sister Lori, who included a link to his obituary. I had looked unsuccessfully for it earlier, and I think that some readers here might want to read it: https://rivera.mykeeper.com/family/KentBudge1/

Uncategorized

Budge

Christmas

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I Heard the Bells

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

Previous Post

November 28, 2022

It's the most generous time of the year

Next Post

November 30, 2022 Some Ways to Light the World

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Uncategorized

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 March 2014 August 2013 February 2012

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

In Philemon, what does Paul call Onesimus?

Select your answer to see how you score.

My friend My helper My very heart My brother