In my mind, Christina Rossetti is one of the greatest poets of the 19th century, having written more than 50 poems by the time she was 16. Her sense of longing and sadness is ever evident in the song In the Bleak Midwinter. I own several versions of the song, with my favorites being the Choir of Christ’s College and The Brilliance’s version from the Advent, Volume 2, album.
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give him: give my heart.
The beauty of this poem for me is how it perfectly juxtaposes both sadness and hope. Every day, we are wrecked by the ravages of the Fall, and yet, every day, we live in the reality that Jesus came, lived, and died for us.
He came, lived, and died for the rescue and redemption of this world.
Our hope lies in the truth expressed in verse two, that heaven cannot hold our God. . . that he will come to reign. The ravages of the Fall have made us poor, living in the bleak midwinter.
It’s January, one of the coldest months in most places in the United States. But it’s a high of 87 in the southernmost counties, reminding us of the incredible way God built our world, and how a bleak midwinter is not always, and not forever.
Colossians 1:16 tells us, “For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.”
In our own Connecticut midwinter, we may feel poor. We may feel cold and even bleak.
But then we remember that he is coming.
This is not a call to “grin and bear it” nor is it a command to “just choose joy” (how toxic is that?). This is not a call to “forget it and move on.” It’s a call to live in and through the bleak midwinter, which we can only do because of the hope promised to us in Scripture: that Jesus has supreme authority over this earth, and the story isn’t finished yet.
What does this living in hope through the midwinter look like? I think Rosetti herself answers it in her song: We can give him our hearts.
In Christ, Pastor Stephanie
