Reflections on a Snowy Day

This morning I was reading John Greenleaf Whittier's epic poem, Snowbound. Whittier, a Quaker who gained fame as a celebrated poet and a crusader against slavery, served as a member of the Massachusetts legislature in the 1830's, and was a founding member of the Republican Party in America. Like his contemporaries Longfellow, Thoreau, Hawthorne, Emerson, and Whitman, among others, his was a household name before, after, and during the Civil War era, during one of the most tumultuous times in our nation. Many of his musings seem surprisingly relevant to twenty-first century residents of planet earth, including one of my favorite Whittier quotes, “Of all sad words of tongue or of pen, the saddest are these, ‘It might have been.’”

During my morning meditations on this winter day filled with anticipation of the forecaster's prediction of snow, I was drawn to Whittier's lengthy, 769 line treatise, first published nearly 150 years ago, in 1866. Snowbound begins with a detailed description of the effect of a New England blizzard on the landscape, home, and hearth of a farm family of that era. His first-person narration makes it clear early on that this is not a piece of fiction, but Whittier’s own story. His accurate depiction of the humble home filled with a loving family, and barn filled with cattle, horses, sheep, and chickens are bursting with such exquisite detail that only a resident observer, thoroughly familiar with the characters and setting could describe.

Soon the author takes the reader on a nostalgic journey, as he reminisces about winters past, and reflects on the memories of family and loved ones through all the seasons of life. A cold winter day is a perfect time for reflection. Reading Whittier’s personal snowbound echoes through the tunnel of time plucked my own heartstrings, producing several resonating chords on this snowy winter day. I would like to share a few of my observations from his Snowbound notes with you.

1. Faith is stronger than doubt, and life is stronger than death. While reminiscing about the past Whittier observed that out of his immediate family, only his brother and he remained. Yet no matter how old he was or how long he lived, he could not forget the influence of his loved ones. He wrote:

Yet love will dream, and faith will trust,

(Since He who knows our need is just,)

That somehow, somewhere, meet we must.”

While looking over the marble tombstones of a cemetery, he observes:

Who hath not learned, in hours of faith,

The truth to flesh and sense unknown,

That Life is ever lord of death,

And love can never lose its own!

During the long months of winter it is so easy to forget that spring and summer will return. And during those times of frigid, isolated darkness we cannot allow our immediate circumstances to control our feelings, or thwart our God-given destiny. Despite the current surroundings, we must set our course on the truth: Life ebbs and flows like the seasons. A high point will be followed by a low tide. And both can reveal details and open passageways that are hidden by the other. We do well to “learn in hours of faith” the truths that will sustain us when doubts tug at the fabric of our souls, seeking to create an opening for unbelief and defeat.

2. We have a God-given right to liberty and justice. A staunch abolitionist, Whittier found himself on that snowbound day reflecting on the struggle for justice and liberty, only recently won through the horror of Civil War. No doubt his own conscience was battered by the tension and dilemma between his Quaker pacifism and the battle in which he had long engaged that led to the bloodiest war in American history, literally pitting brother against brother. The cause was just, but the price was high. As if to remind himself of this he recited the “trumpet call” pen and voice of Mercy Warren, once called the most remarkable and influential woman of the American Revolutionary period:

Does not the voice of reason cry,

Claim the first right which nature gave,

From the red scourge of bondage fly,

Nor deign to live a burdened slave.

Slavery takes many forms, with tyranny and terror always the twin results. We can become enslaved to habits, to people, even to institutions or ideologies. The consequences are always the same as we yearn for freedom from the chains that bind our hearts and souls. The human heart beats for freedom. Human lungs long to be filled with the fresh, unpolluted air of freedom. The human voice cannot be silenced by tyranny and terror, as those who enjoy the blessings of liberty must use their voices to speak on behalf of those whose voices are stilled by the tyrant’s whip.

Sadly, nearly a century and a half after the American Civil War, slavery still exists in one form or another in many parts of our world, and wars are still being fought for far less noble purposes. Despite the geography or time, the human heart continually cries out for freedom. The abolitionists of the day used St. Paul’s clarion voice as a banner for their movement, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.” (2 Corinthians 3:17) Those words remain faithful and true to this day.

3. A simpler and slower pace of life allows space and time for sorting out the important from the unimportant. There is nothing like an extended time of reflection for determining our core values. The temporary and trivial melt like the snows of winter when exposed to the sunlight of truth, revealing the foundational structure upon which all of a good life is built. Love, mercy, justice, piety, integrity—principles that form godly character, must be joined with friends, family, and community—relationships that sustain and nurture human existence. Reflecting upon simpler times, Whittier was reminded of:

The common unrhymed poetry

Of simple life and country ways,

The story of her early days,

She made us welcome to her home

At another point he wrote of an uncle, lacking perhaps in formal schooling and social graces:

Our uncle, innocent of books,

Was rich in lore of fields and brooks.

Whittier went on to describe persons like his uncle, who were rich in their own character and skills, unseen or unnoticed by the casual observer, but readily viewed and appreciated by those long familiar with golden treasures lying below the wrinkled patina of experienced skin. How often do we pass by or dismiss others because they lack the appeal of youth or beauty in our rush to judgment? I have frequently reflected upon my own life growing up on a farm, how that one can observe things from the seat of a tractor traveling at 8 miles per hour that you would surely miss from the seat of an automobile traveling at 80 miles per hour.

Our trajectory is frequently so rapid that we grow accustomed to the dizzying pace, and feel faint when given a moment of respite. It is too bad that it often takes a crisis to bring a busy life to a temporary halt. We learn so much from those experiences as we mine strength from the depths of our souls and learn to depend upon God and others for our mere existence. It is during such times that we separate the trivial chaff of life from the wheat that produces the bread of life. Those moments can lead to Him who invites us to “Come and dine,” freely offering the Bread of Life to all.

4. There is more to life than the here and now. Within the heart of man lies a tendency to ponder the imponderable, to ask the question, “Is this all there is?” Unlike his transcendentalist friends, Whittier possessed a foundational belief in the Bible and saw God as more than an impersonal force of nature or voice of reason. Reflecting upon a loved one lost in death he wrote:

But still I wait with ear and eye

For something gone which should be nigh,

A loss in all familiar things,

In flower that blooms, and bird that sings.

And yet, dear heart! Remembering thee,

Am I not richer than of old?

Safe in thy immortality,

What change can reach the wealth I hold?

I cannot feel that thou art far,

Since near at need the angels are;

And when the sunset gates unbar,

Shall I not see thy waiting stand,

And, white against the evening star,

The welcome of thy beckoning hand?

The Bible speaks of three eternal virtues: faith, hope and love. This trio plays a passionate song that cannot be extinguished by the desperate circumstances of life or the traumatic sorrows of death. When its music plays, the heart can soar above the winter landscape; over the regrets of the past, and the perils of the present to see the mystery and glory of a future known only to God but bright with the promise of spring.

I am still awaiting today’s predicted snow, although the temperature is hovering near freezing, and the clouds are foreboding. But the meditations on Whittier’s Snowbound have fueled my spirit on this cold winter day, and once again reminded me of the importance of reflection and sorting out the trivial from the treasure, regardless of the weather. Whittier is listed among the group known as “Fireside Poets” and I’ve enjoyed sitting by the hearth of his warming words.

If you are interested in reading Snowbound, and have a Kindle, iPad or other electronic reading device, you can find a copy of it on Amazon.com for the low price of $00.00—a good price for a good read on a snowy day.