Where Meek Souls Will Receive Him Still

Why are we encouraged to sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to ourselves and with others? In this column, Cultivating Songs of Faith, we explore that question by looking at one particular hymn each season, offering the story of its creation from the life of its author or composer. What you see here is a reflection rather than a formal academic history. I hope to help you to taste, see, and rediscover what is good in great hymns, and also occasionally enter into the conversation they have with ancient psalms and modern spiritual songs.

Darkness was falling as the weary travelers arrived in the small town of Bethlehem. Among the group was a young preacher, journeying through the Holy Land on sabbatical. He had ridden by horseback that day through the nearby hills and seen shepherds with their flocks of sheep. Now he joined the worshippers at The Church of the Nativity, a church built over the traditional site of Jesus’s birth. It was Christmas Eve, and the young preacher was enraptured by the hymn singing that filled the church.

The year was 1865, and the preacher was Rev. Phillips Brooks (1835–1893), a well-known orator and Episcopal minister from Philadelphia. His memory of that night in Bethlehem would remain in his heart and later give birth to the words of a beloved Christmas carol.

Three years after his visit to the Holy Land, Brooks wrote a poem about another night long ago in the town of Bethlehem. He intended it as a song for the children of the Sunday school class in his church. He asked the organist, Lewis Redner (1831–1908), to try his hand at writing a tune that would go with the lyrics.

O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie:
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The Everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

Try as he might, Redner couldn’t come up with a tune that he was happy with. About a week before they needed to teach the song to the children, an idea came to him:

“I was roused from sleep late in the night hearing an angel-strain whispering in my ear, and seizing a piece of music paper I jotted down the treble of the tune as we now have it, and on Sunday morning before going to church I filled in the harmony. Neither Mr. Brooks nor I ever thought the carol or the music to it would live beyond that Christmas of 1868.” [1]

Brooks’s poem tells of the wondrous gift of God’s Son, Jesus, arriving silently into a humble place, surrounded by the most unpretentious of people. His carol “O Little Town of Bethlehem” was crafted as a simple way to share the story of Jesus’s birth with children. Just like the Nativity story itself, the simplicity of the hymn catches us with the surprise and wonder of it all. I love the contrasts that are found in the lyrics. They describe a night where the “hopes and fears of all the years” are met together. Into a world described as silent and dark, the Everlasting Light enters.

The Incarnation of Jesus Christ—how can words describe this pivotal moment in history? It was in this moment, full of mystery and awesome glory, that God Himself entered time embodied as a human. This was not a temporary appearance, but a permanent coming. The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. As St. Athanasius has said, “the incorporeal and incorruptible and immaterial Word of God comes into our realm.” [2] The mystery and beauty of the Incarnation has inspired books, poetry, music, and art since that night in Bethlehem long ago. It is a powerful story, one that will transform the heart of anyone who receives it.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is giv’n;
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessing of His heaven;
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still
The dear Christ enters in.

When I sing this verse, I find myself pondering what it means to be a “meek soul.” The word meek has fallen out of favor in our day; many think it is another word for “weak.” Yet Jesus taught us, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5.5 ESV) To me, meek souls are those who possess quiet dignity and strength. They will inherit the earth because they are humble, open to and willing to receive truth.

Some twenty years after Phillips Brooks wrote “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” he had the opportunity to meet a beautiful and truly meek soul. A young girl of eleven came to him, begging to hear about the truth that he loved to share with children. Although he was now the bishop of Massachusetts and the rector of a prominent church in Boston, he took time to visit with this little girl, and they actually developed a friendship that continued to the end of his life. The little girl happened to be blind and deaf, and had only just begun to learn many things about the world.

Her chief interest while visiting with the bishop was to ask about God. She sat on his lap, holding his hand with one of hers. Her other hand was in the hand of her teacher, who signed the words that the bishop was speaking. Afterwards, she exclaimed, “I’ve always known there was a God, but until now I’ve never known His name.” [3]

The little girl’s name was Helen Keller, and her visit that day with Phillips Brooks opened the door for the truth of God’s love to be born into the humble soul that she was, willing to receive it.

After she returned home, the two new friends wrote letters to each other. One of Brooks’s letters contained this:

“I love to tell you about God. But He will tell you Himself by the love which He will put into your heart if you ask Him. And Jesus, who is His Son, but is nearer to Him than all of His other children, came into the world on purpose to tell us all about our Father’s love.” [4]

And a few years later she replied:

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched, but just felt in the heart.” [5]

There was room in this girl’s heart to receive the truth of Jesus, a truth that she couldn’t see or hear. She would grow up to build her life on that truth.

Jesus made His entrance into humble Bethlehem, beginning life as a human baby in a stable, and He comes again to each meek heart that makes room for Him. Every Advent, I see afresh the wonder of Jesus’s birth. Just as Helen Keller said, this is one of the best and most beautiful things. It cannot be seen or touched. It is the miracle of Emmanuel’s coming that fills our human experience with beauty, meaning, and purpose.

O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie:
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The Everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

 

 For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.

 

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is giv’n;
So God imparts to human hearts
he blessing of His heaven;
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still
The dear Christ enters in.

 

Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child:
Where Misery cries out to Thee,
Son of the undefiled;
Where Charity stands watching,
And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.

 

 O Holy Child of Bethlehem!
Descend to us, we pray,
Cast out our sin, and enter in,
Be born in us today;
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!

[1] Louis F. Benson, “O Little Town of Bethlehem”. Studies Of Familiar Hymns, First Series (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press. 1924).

[2] On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius the Great of Alexandria, translated by John Behr.

[3] I found this beautiful statement while reading the last chapter of Helen Keller’s short autobiography, written in 1902 for the Ladies’ Home Journal and accessible through the Social Welfare History Project at Virginia Commonwealth University. 

[4] Helen Keller, The Story of My Life, from “Dr. Brooks’s reply,” dated August 3, 1890.

[5] Helen Keller, The Story of My Life, from “Letter to Rev. Phillips Brooks,” dated June 8, 1891.

The featured image, “Pinecone Hymnal,” is courtesy of Julie Jablonski and used with her kind permission for Cultivating.

Terri Moon

Terri Moon is a musician and a lover of Jesus. She delights in playing the music of Bach, growing English roses, baking up a good batch of scones, and all good, true, and beautiful things that point to Him. She has found that the most fulfilling adventures come through collaborating with others, and to that end she and her husband Steve (also a member of The Maker’s Project) serve gladly in their church and also on the leadership team of the Anselm Society. Together they raised four children and are now proud grandparents. Hosting friends in their Colorado home is one of their favorite joint adventures.

Terri holds a master’s degree in violin performance, and has collaborated in many concerts and taught students of all ages for 40 years. Her lifelong passion is the intersection of music, worship, and spiritual formation, and she longs to bring to life the beauty of the Church’s heritage in the arts. Terri currently serves as the Music Director of Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Colorado Springs.