Many of us know the origins of the hymn Amazing Grace but far fewer know the story of how one of our most beloved hymns 'Silent Night' came to be. Now this is history I wish we had a video production of and there is a reason why I wished we had video footage! Its because the facts that I'm going to set down here is just one of the stories that's told about this hymn.
Most of us are not at all aware of the way history is affected by stories that are not written down but rather narrated to someone who then tells it to someone else, and then another person and we call that the 'oral tradition'. This is one such version of this story I'm going to tell you here so I hasten to add that at least the hard facts of this story have been proved to be drawn from solid facts. I find this alone, very interesting.
Christmas Carol Was First Written As A Poem:
A Clergyman, who lived in an Austrian alpine village scribed this carol a hundred and ninety five years ago; the year was 1818 and the village was known as Oberndorf. It was the week of Christmas.
The Clergyman, Father Josef Mohr took a journey on foot to visit a family who lived in a cabin high in the mountains. Its recorded that as he walked he became very aware of the beautiful landscape. The blissful silence of the snow covered ground. The dark beauty of the Alpines against the very azure blue sky and the music that sang out from the creeks he first followed then crossed as he made his way to the awaiting family.
It must have been so welcoming to get inside the warm cabin. Its said that the first thing that caught his eye was a mother with her new baby sitting by the fireside. Given the poem that he later wrote we could assume that this 'nativity scene' prompted the thought of the original nativity that he was soon to officiate on Christmas Eve.
When he left the family and headed home, it was nightfall and the moonlight glistened from the snow covered hills and gleamed from the babbling brook. It was a silent night and he felt it to be a holy night. All is calm, all is bright. But wait..!
What Exactly Did Happen In Father Josef Mohr's Afternoon Of Absence?
Well, lend me an ear and I'll tell you! His friend, the notable and beloved of all, Choir Master and music teacher discovered that the organ would not play a single note! Remember that this is a village hidden deep in the Austrian Alps! What could he now do with this broken organ? Mind you, no pressure, but it is soon to be Christmas Eve and what is a Christmas Eve Service anywhere in the world without music?! Christmas Eve with everyone happy, singing together with no organ music!? A clear disaster was at hand with no way to turn it around. Franz Gruber thank heavens above, was a consummate Maestro, as such he could play more than one instrument. Its good to know then, that as soon as Father Josef arrived home, he quickly wrote down the words to the simplest of poems that for our joy is still close to the very heart beat of Christmas services all over the world: 'Silent Night', now 195 yrs old, still heard all through the festive season.
Somehow its a bit magical to consider that this simple hymn written some 195 yrs. ago was to become perhaps the most known and beloved Christmas carol of them all. His friend the Choir Master suggested to him that the carol was definitely a Christmas hymn and he felt that the very lyrics suggested the tune it should have.
The Collaboration:
Now, this collaboration between these two souls is one I so wish I could see in some video production...or even a movie made about it. Anyway, isn't it a blessing that Franz could play the guitar! No organ; no problem. When he picked out the simple tune that we still hear today its good to know that it was done that very hour. It was as if it had already been written. The rest was left to history to echo. The caroling service went on as planned and all were blessed. In the Spring, the organ mender came from a nearby village and repaired the organ. When the musician sat down to test out his repairs he played the tune he had composed. The organ mender not only remembered this tune, he took it home and taught it to a few children and they taught it to their friends. And so it way, that Silent Night was first spread all through the land by the children.
The Journey of Silent Night:
Somehow, Silent Night went from the children to the then big city of Salzburg, in fact, to it's most prominent cathedral, by name, St. Peter's. How exactly, we don't know, but then it was heard in Paris. It didn't stop there, it arrived in London one Christmas time and it did as many had, it immigrated to America! First the big cities, then the small and even the tiny hamlets of America. You can go anywhere in the entire continent of North America, and you can count on hearing this darling hymn during the holiday festivities. 'SIlent Night...Holy Night...All is Calm, All is Bright.'
I Heard Silent Night Sung In It's Native Language:
This hymn was written by two native Austrians and as good fate and fortune would have it, I had the privilege of sharing a friendship with an Austrian woman. On one Christmas Eve, she, not being a Christian, sang it to me. Michele was in a sort of exile from her homeland. After the war, she and her husband fled from the impending influence of Nazi Germany and made their home in Canada. On this night, we sat there together looking out on what was a glorious view of the snow capped Canadian Rockies and the deep midnight blue waters, Lake Kootenay. British Columbia was a long ways from Austria.
This gorgeous painting we gazed upon, mixed with her obvious home sickness drew the Christmas Carol, Silent Night out of her. I had never heard her sing before. She was 53 and I was 24 or 25. I remember thinking about how she had taken up piano lessons and I wondered why someone so old would do something like that! So in my characteristic and sometimes, though not meaning to be, unkindness, I ask her why she was doing that? Because everything in my mind set, following on from a very industrious and utilitarian upbringing as an American, I factored that it was a waste of time unless you were ( I love this next useless phrase) unless you were 'going to do something with it'.
Insensitive of me to ask her why she was starting piano lessons now?! I was taken aback when she replied that because she wanted to...she was doing it for herself. I won't forget that lesson.
Precious Memories Teach Me Still:
Listening to Michele sing this hymn and then her teaching it to me was a bitter sweet experience. Her longing for a 'home' we both knew she would never see again was left uncommented on. I knew she and her husband escaped Nazi Germany and immigrated. He had left the military without proper permissions.
Poignant also because she adored this Christmas tune and yet said she did not believe in God. "God died in the war. They killed Him." Her singing that hymn, on that night, in the way she did, would be something anybody would remember. She's gone now. Home, wherever that is. I don't believe in death... I do believe in circles.
Michele was a very beautiful woman both inside and out. Blond, loosely curled haired, bright blue eyes that somehow seemed very soft focused. That somehow did not combine with her oft state of nervousness. She was a great thinker and is accredited for introducing me to some of the world's greatest philosophers. I was always surprised that even with her confessed loss of faith in God, she was nevertheless keen on my interest in the Bible and my knowledge of it's history.
Today is December 10th, 2013. Christmas Eve is soon here - I'll have to sing to her, this hymn in her mother tongue; I wouldn't want her to think I've forgotten it.
Most of us are not at all aware of the way history is affected by stories that are not written down but rather narrated to someone who then tells it to someone else, and then another person and we call that the 'oral tradition'. This is one such version of this story I'm going to tell you here so I hasten to add that at least the hard facts of this story have been proved to be drawn from solid facts. I find this alone, very interesting.
Christmas Carol Was First Written As A Poem:
A Clergyman, who lived in an Austrian alpine village scribed this carol a hundred and ninety five years ago; the year was 1818 and the village was known as Oberndorf. It was the week of Christmas.
The Clergyman, Father Josef Mohr took a journey on foot to visit a family who lived in a cabin high in the mountains. Its recorded that as he walked he became very aware of the beautiful landscape. The blissful silence of the snow covered ground. The dark beauty of the Alpines against the very azure blue sky and the music that sang out from the creeks he first followed then crossed as he made his way to the awaiting family.
It must have been so welcoming to get inside the warm cabin. Its said that the first thing that caught his eye was a mother with her new baby sitting by the fireside. Given the poem that he later wrote we could assume that this 'nativity scene' prompted the thought of the original nativity that he was soon to officiate on Christmas Eve.
When he left the family and headed home, it was nightfall and the moonlight glistened from the snow covered hills and gleamed from the babbling brook. It was a silent night and he felt it to be a holy night. All is calm, all is bright. But wait..!
What Exactly Did Happen In Father Josef Mohr's Afternoon Of Absence?
Well, lend me an ear and I'll tell you! His friend, the notable and beloved of all, Choir Master and music teacher discovered that the organ would not play a single note! Remember that this is a village hidden deep in the Austrian Alps! What could he now do with this broken organ? Mind you, no pressure, but it is soon to be Christmas Eve and what is a Christmas Eve Service anywhere in the world without music?! Christmas Eve with everyone happy, singing together with no organ music!? A clear disaster was at hand with no way to turn it around. Franz Gruber thank heavens above, was a consummate Maestro, as such he could play more than one instrument. Its good to know then, that as soon as Father Josef arrived home, he quickly wrote down the words to the simplest of poems that for our joy is still close to the very heart beat of Christmas services all over the world: 'Silent Night', now 195 yrs old, still heard all through the festive season.
Somehow its a bit magical to consider that this simple hymn written some 195 yrs. ago was to become perhaps the most known and beloved Christmas carol of them all. His friend the Choir Master suggested to him that the carol was definitely a Christmas hymn and he felt that the very lyrics suggested the tune it should have.
The Collaboration:
Now, this collaboration between these two souls is one I so wish I could see in some video production...or even a movie made about it. Anyway, isn't it a blessing that Franz could play the guitar! No organ; no problem. When he picked out the simple tune that we still hear today its good to know that it was done that very hour. It was as if it had already been written. The rest was left to history to echo. The caroling service went on as planned and all were blessed. In the Spring, the organ mender came from a nearby village and repaired the organ. When the musician sat down to test out his repairs he played the tune he had composed. The organ mender not only remembered this tune, he took it home and taught it to a few children and they taught it to their friends. And so it way, that Silent Night was first spread all through the land by the children.
The Journey of Silent Night:
Somehow, Silent Night went from the children to the then big city of Salzburg, in fact, to it's most prominent cathedral, by name, St. Peter's. How exactly, we don't know, but then it was heard in Paris. It didn't stop there, it arrived in London one Christmas time and it did as many had, it immigrated to America! First the big cities, then the small and even the tiny hamlets of America. You can go anywhere in the entire continent of North America, and you can count on hearing this darling hymn during the holiday festivities. 'SIlent Night...Holy Night...All is Calm, All is Bright.'
I Heard Silent Night Sung In It's Native Language:
This hymn was written by two native Austrians and as good fate and fortune would have it, I had the privilege of sharing a friendship with an Austrian woman. On one Christmas Eve, she, not being a Christian, sang it to me. Michele was in a sort of exile from her homeland. After the war, she and her husband fled from the impending influence of Nazi Germany and made their home in Canada. On this night, we sat there together looking out on what was a glorious view of the snow capped Canadian Rockies and the deep midnight blue waters, Lake Kootenay. British Columbia was a long ways from Austria.
This gorgeous painting we gazed upon, mixed with her obvious home sickness drew the Christmas Carol, Silent Night out of her. I had never heard her sing before. She was 53 and I was 24 or 25. I remember thinking about how she had taken up piano lessons and I wondered why someone so old would do something like that! So in my characteristic and sometimes, though not meaning to be, unkindness, I ask her why she was doing that? Because everything in my mind set, following on from a very industrious and utilitarian upbringing as an American, I factored that it was a waste of time unless you were ( I love this next useless phrase) unless you were 'going to do something with it'.
Insensitive of me to ask her why she was starting piano lessons now?! I was taken aback when she replied that because she wanted to...she was doing it for herself. I won't forget that lesson.
Precious Memories Teach Me Still:
Listening to Michele sing this hymn and then her teaching it to me was a bitter sweet experience. Her longing for a 'home' we both knew she would never see again was left uncommented on. I knew she and her husband escaped Nazi Germany and immigrated. He had left the military without proper permissions.
Poignant also because she adored this Christmas tune and yet said she did not believe in God. "God died in the war. They killed Him." Her singing that hymn, on that night, in the way she did, would be something anybody would remember. She's gone now. Home, wherever that is. I don't believe in death... I do believe in circles.
Michele was a very beautiful woman both inside and out. Blond, loosely curled haired, bright blue eyes that somehow seemed very soft focused. That somehow did not combine with her oft state of nervousness. She was a great thinker and is accredited for introducing me to some of the world's greatest philosophers. I was always surprised that even with her confessed loss of faith in God, she was nevertheless keen on my interest in the Bible and my knowledge of it's history.
Today is December 10th, 2013. Christmas Eve is soon here - I'll have to sing to her, this hymn in her mother tongue; I wouldn't want her to think I've forgotten it.
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