PHILLIPS BROOKES
The Pastor who gave the world ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ Phillips Brooks, one of America’s most respected 19th-century pastors, never set out to become a hymn writer. Born in Boston in 1835, he was known first for his towering height, warm personality, and extraordinary gift of preaching. People often described him as gentle yet powerful — a man whose words could move a crowded church to tears, not through theatrics, but through sincerity.
In 1865, shortly after the American Civil War, Brooks found himself exhausted in spirit. His nation was wounded, and so was he. Seeking rest and renewal, he travelled to the Holy Land. On Christmas Eve, he rode on horseback from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. As night fell, the town lay still under a quiet sky. He entered the Church of the Nativity — the traditional site of Jesus’ birth — and was deeply moved by the simple beauty of the candlelit service. There were no grand choirs, no loud celebrations, just the quiet murmur of worshippers remembering the night Christ came.
That moment stayed with him long after he returned to Boston. Three years later, in 1868, he wanted a special piece for his church’s Christmas service and found his mind returning to that peaceful night in Bethlehem. Sitting down to write, he poured the memories of that holy evening into a poem beginning with the words, “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.”
He handed the poem to his church’s organist, Lewis Redner, who composed a tune that came to him, fittingly, in the quiet of the night. Neither man imagined it would travel far beyond their congregation.
Yet the hymn captured something timeless — the truth that God often enters our world softly, without noise or fanfare. Through Brooks’ simple reflection, generations have been reminded that holiness is often found in the quiet places, waiting to be noticed.
Here is the Christmas Carol.
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.
O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth,
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth;
For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
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 given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings 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.
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 Immanuel!
