Quite frankly, one of my favorite Christmas songs has one of my least favorite tunes. Though I have heard excellent renditions and reworkings of it, the original melody is nowhere near as solemn and hopeful as it should be—especially after contemplation of its words,

“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!”

The lyrics were originally a poem written by the Fireside Poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Initially, it appears to be your average joyful Christmas song. Advent and Christmas observance is oft marked with such joy, as it well should be. Though that which we remember and observe is most certainly celebratory, Christmas is a solemn thing as much at it is a joyful one. Often, it serves as a reminder of who is not sitting next to you at the table. It is perhaps this time, fraught with empty chairs, that those vacant seats are most noticeable. Affliction, distress, and pain seldom take winter vacations. The author of this Christmas carol heretofore mentioned was well acquainted with this fact, 

“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!’"

At times, Christmas and all its joys in commemorating our Savior’s birth clashes with the harsh depravity and pain of this broken world. It's hard to hear peace on earth above all the chaos on earth. Longfellow was no stranger to turmoil and brokenness. When he penned the words to this carol, he was suffering the grief of two painful losses. First, that of his wife to a tragic fire, and then that of his son to the War Between the States, which is clearly evidenced by these verses that are not commonly sung,
    
"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!"

Indeed, this poet, along with many other American families of 1863, knew excessively well the strong hatred, the suffocating despair, and the loud mockery of "peace on earth" that the war wrought.  The depravity and wickedness of men's heart hardly makes one want to break out in full chorus of “All things Bright and Beautiful.”

But the story doesn't end there. Far from it. Longfellow's last verse of the carol reminds us thus, 

“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.’"

Sometimes, we have to remember that Christmas is not dependent on our "Christmas feeling" (or lack thereof). We have a glorious hope that did not stop in a manger, nor did it end on a cross. Christ came to earth on a rescue mission armed with redemption. When commemorating Christ's birth during this season, we can't be so focused on the manger that we forget the empty tomb and the victory Christ has won over sin, wretchedness, suffering, and death itself. Reconciliation. —What a peace-filled word. Grace—what a solemnly lovely thing it is! God's own beloved Son, born to die a horrendous death for His enemies. Surely, no chaos or despair can drown out the victory song that His resurrection sings. The battle is won, we have peace on earth because we, redeemed sinners, have peace with holy God. His word is full of promises of this peace. That does not mean that the chaos or pain will up and away, but we can rest and revel in the “peace which transcends all understanding” .

If the commercialism and attempted diminishing of Christmas' value by society has you feeling a bit hopeless, or if a grievous affliction in your life seems to drown out "peace on earth, good-will to men," remember the sober beauty of hope, marvel at present grace and at grace to come. Think upon the joyful fact that pain, affliction, and chaos are exclusively temporal. Meditate upon the wonder found in Emmanuel: God with us.