A God of good tidings
It’s not all good news right now, but someday it will be.
I read recently of the phrase good tidings. In its Hebrew inflection—b’sorot tovot—it expresses both a present sadness and a future hope. One should use the phrase even amidst trial and tragedy because it “doesn’t really just mean ‘Good news.’ It means ‘Let’s hope for good news, because right now there isn’t any.’”1
I read, too, a gloss upon the phrase suggesting a biblical and Christian connection:
Interestingly enough, the word Gospel—used to refer to the first four books of the New Testament—comes from the Old English god spel or good news, itself a translation of the Greek euangelion, whence “evangelize.” A great deal of the Greek religious vocabulary of early Christianity naturally consisted of literal translations of Hebrew and Aramaic words and phrases, and I’ve always presumed that euangelion is just a translation of b’sorot tovot.2
Of course, because it is Advent and Christmastime, one cannot hear the phrase good tidings without remembering the angel’s word to the shepherds, expressed in the poetic English of the King James Version: “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people” (Luke 2:10). The Greek root there is indeed euangelion.3
As a phrase, good tidings inhabits the contrast between the world as it is and the world as it will be—this strange cosmic interregnum we are living through. In the present age, evil stalks about; injustice gains an upper hand; death invades life. But in the age to come, God will deal all of these a final, crushing blow. (In Rembrandt’s rendition of the angelic scene above, the stark interplay of light and shadow makes the contrast palpable.) Thus, to add a Christian inflection to the phrase, good tidings means: “I know it’s not all good news right now, but someday it will be.”
Good tidings is different than “merry Christmas” and “happy holidays.” I have nothing against these phrases; I use both profusely and gladly. But good tidings has the advantage of expressing joy without glossing over sorrow. It is thus appropriate at this or any time of year. One should bid good tidings to anyone experiencing the closeness of joy and sorrow in a particular moment.
The phrase is especially a comfort to me today. Today marks one year since my mother, Mary Ester (Holt) Speir, passed away unexpectedly from medical complications. This morning, my family said for her a traditional mourner’s prayer—a prayer that isn’t about death or grief at all, but one that exalts God and prays that His peace will be established speedily in our time, and in that sense casts our eyes upward to heaven, not down toward the grave. And we prayed facing to the east, for this is how—in the locution of the Creed—we look for the resurrection of the dead.
I looked back at my journal entry last Christmas Eve. I share it here because I think it captures my sense of what good tidings means:
Mom passed earlier this morning, very unexpectedly. Woke up to a call from [my brother] Daniel at 4:50 am with the news. Had missed a call from Dad around 1:30 am. Many condolences and much support from friends & family. Told the kids when they all woke up around 8 am. Ev and I did some last minute Xmas shopping for Mom/Bre. Ran into Pelsers. Sara M. brought lunch. Harley visited.
Mixture of sorrow and joy today. Xmas Eve services at New Life North 2 pm. Ev is in choir, singing at 2 pm & 4 pm services. Such a contrast between the beauty and freshness of life, and grieving death of a loved one. Indeed the whole season exhibits the contrast. Joy at the birth of a life—in a sense, of “the life,” of Life itself—set against death, loss, grief.
Sense of sadness takes on a new dimension. It’s deeper, more fundamental. It is sadness that won’t be assuaged and isn’t meant to be. It is a sadness that just is. It sits alongside joy. They are fellow travelers.
Last Christmas Eve, the news for me was not good. But then as now, I cling to a different kind of news, the kind of news the angel brought, the proclamation that God is still at work in the world, however mysteriously, and He is still bringing beauty from ashes, joy from sorrow, life from death. For He is a God of good tidings.
I hope to incorporate this useful phrase, good tidings, into my regular vocabulary throughout the year. “Good tidings to you!” is a love-filled greeting, and “Let us pray for good tidings” is a hopeful farewell. As for now, it is Christmastime, so I leave you with the phrase I shall use for the rest of this season:
Good tidings and merry Christmas!
Philologos, “The Hebrew Language’s Expression of the Year,” Mosaic, Nov. 30, 2023.
Andrew Koss, The Mosaic Daily (email), Nov. 30, 2023.
εὐαγγελίζομαι, euangelizomai, “I bring good tidings.”