The world still trembles with wars and rumors of wars, and yet the carols keep declaring peace on earth, good will toward men. You are invited to hold the headlines in one hand and the angelic song in the other, refusing to let violence have the final word. Pray for the silencing of cannons and the mending of nations. Ask Jesus to stretch His peace across borders and into boardrooms, trenches, and refugee camps. And as you pray, let the bells ring in your heart, reminding you that heaven has already announced God’s intent for the earth. Hope speaks louder than gunfire when God’s people keep listening and keep praying [14:23].
Luke 2:13-14
A great crowd of heaven’s messengers filled the sky, praising God and saying that the highest glory is His, and that His gracious favor brings real peace to people living on the earth.
Reflection: When you consider one specific conflict in our world, what concrete prayer for peace will you carry this week, and how will you remember to pray daily for it?
The ache outside often stirs the storm inside, and anxiety can feel like a daily companion. Jesus offers a different way: to bring every worry into God’s presence with honest prayer and steady gratitude. As you name your fears, also name your thanks; let thanksgiving keep company with petition. Invest in relationships, serve generously, and savor small delights—habits that make space for Christ’s calm to settle in you. The promise is not the removal of problems, but the guarding of your heart and mind in Him. Receive the gift that the world can’t manufacture and can’t take away [16:38].
Philippians 4:6-7
Don’t be driven by worry; instead, in every circumstance, talk with God, tell Him what you need, and thank Him for His goodness. Then God’s peace—bigger than your understanding—will stand watch over your heart and your thoughts in Christ Jesus.
Reflection: What anxious loop keeps replaying in your mind, and what simple daily rhythm of prayer and gratitude could you adopt this week to invite Christ’s guarding peace there?
For some, this season comes with an empty chair, a quiet room, or a story that still hurts to tell. If the bells seem distant, you are not faithless; you are grieving. Jesus names you blessed in your mourning, not because loss is good, but because God draws near with comfort. Bring your tears, your questions, and your silence—He receives them all. Let memories be honored and sorrow be spoken, trusting that comfort is promised, not pretended. Even a whisper of prayer can become the doorway for His nearness today [57:24].
Matthew 5:4
Those who are grieving are in a place of blessing, because they will be surrounded by God’s comforting care.
Reflection: What specific memory of the one you miss will you share with God today, and what brief prayer of comfort will you ask Him to place in your mouth when the ache rises?
Hate can sound loud and despair can feel final, but the bells peal with a truer message: God is not dead, nor does He sleep. Wrong will not have the last line; Jesus already has. He told us that trouble would come—and then He promised His victory in the midst of it. Take heart is not a slogan; it is a hand to hold. Let courage rise as you remember that the Risen One stands with you and for you today. The overcomer’s peace is for this exact moment you are living [35:45].
John 16:33
I’ve told you these things so you can share in my peace. In this world you will face pressure and pain, but take courage—I have already overcome the world.
Reflection: Where does hate or discouragement feel loudest in your week, and what one small act of courageous goodness will you take to echo Jesus’ “take heart” right there?
Longfellow ended with a single added word—“with”—as if to invite us to join God in bringing peace and good will. Because the Word became flesh, died, and rose, hope is now our calling as well as our comfort. You are sent to be hands that serve, feet that go, and a voice that speaks blessing into divided places. Let your light shine in ordinary ways—hospitality, reconciliation, generosity, truth told kindly. Ring the bells by the life you live, so others hear the music of Christ through you. Walk into this week with Him, and let others glimpse the Father’s goodness in your everyday faithfulness [23:46].
Matthew 5:16
In the same way, let your everyday life shine clearly before others, so they notice the good you do and are drawn to honor your Father in heaven.
Reflection: What is one specific act of peace or good will you can offer this week—named to a particular person or place—and when will you do it?
Today, on the Sunday of love, I invited us to listen again for the sound of Christmas bells—the stubborn, hope-filled bells that Longfellow heard amid the wreckage of war and the wreckage of his own home. We walked with him through fire and grief, through a nation torn apart, and heard him confess what many of us feel: “Hate is strong and mocks the song.” Yet something turned in him, and the bells pealed “more loud and deep”: God is not dead, nor does He sleep. The wrong shall fail; the right prevail. Those words became our prayer in a world still marked by conflict, and our confession in lives burdened by worry, anxiety, and loss.
We prayed for peace on earth—the ceasing of violence and the mending of nations. And we prayed for peace within—the deep, guarding peace Christ gives, the peace that doesn’t wait for life to be easy before it becomes real. We heard Paul’s promise that the peace of God can stand watch over our hearts and minds. Even the best research of our time affirms what Scripture teaches: relationships, generosity, savoring small gifts, sleep, movement, and practiced gratitude form a life where contentment can take root. We receive peace from Christ; we cultivate it with habits that make room for His presence.
We named grief without apology—the empty chair at the table, the ornaments that now tell stories of absence. Jesus does not sidestep that ache; He blesses those who mourn and meets them there. We named the weariness of hate—how it fractures families, hardens hearts, and silences songs. And then we lifted our heads with Longfellow to hear the bells again: take heart; Jesus has overcome the world.
I told you about a little rope in a little church in Kentucky that rang out to a whole town: church is open, hope is here. That rope still tugs on me. It’s why I love Longfellow’s last word—“with” peace on earth. Not peace instead of us, but peace with us. God is bringing His peace, and He invites us to join Him—to be His hands, His feet, and His voice. So we go now to ring the bell, to speak peace in a world of hate, to carry hope into despair, and to sing, even when it’s costly: God is here. Jesus has come for you, and for me.
in Gaza Palestine the Palestine Israeli conflictsince mid 2025 more than 60 thousand people have died 60 thousandon the border between India and Pakistanit is estimated that in just 2025there are more deaths than have ever been recorded in a decades long conflict in Marmar there is civil war more than 15 thousand casualties in this year alone from Ethiopia to Yemen tothe Congo to Somalia [00:59:29] (56 seconds) #WarsAcrossTheWorld
I'm an AI bot trained specifically on the sermon from Dec 22, 2025. Do you have any questions about it?
Add this chatbot onto your site with the embed code below
<iframe frameborder="0" src="https://pastors.ai/sermonWidget/sermon/christmas-bells-peace-hope" width="100%" height="100%" style="height:100vh;"></iframe>Copy