Everyone seems to know all of the words of the memorable hymn, 'Amazing Grace' or at least have heard it. The history of the most endearing hymn, Silent Night', is however, not generally known. Just think of it, had we someone there with an iPhone we could've just posted a, no doubt, viral video production here!
Once the effects of 'the oral tradition' have taken hold on what could have been called solid history, the hard facts are faint and the romance, or spin are added and then history becomes more of a legend and sometimes pure myth.
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.
His name was Father Josef Mohr. On a day during Christmas week he went to visit a family who lived in a cabin high up on the surrounding hills. He walked there and the hike proved most pleasant for him and fortuitous for us. During the walk he became so aware of the loveliness of God's creation. He thought the silence composed the best music until he neared the brook and heard the water singing as it danced over the water worn stones. The emerald green trees must have looked stunning lining the ridge that offset the deep, clear, blue sky.
When he arrived, it was early evening and he was warmly greeted at the door. When he stepped in, the first thing he saw was a newly born babe with its mother in adoring attendance. Since we have no video production to view on YouTube LOL or a viral video to view that was sent to us thru one of the many social media networks, we'll have to rely on those who've suggested that this walk put Father Josef Mohr into a reflective state of mind about the original Nativity scene. There would be no doubt his state of mind since he was in the middle of preparing for the upcoming caroling service that he would officiate Christmas eve.
By the time he left for the Vicarage it was early nightfall. The moon shone all around and glistened brightly. It was almost like walking in daylight. But it was nightfall; a silient night and Father Mohr felt it to be particularly holy night,... so calm and bright. BUT, little did he know that while he was gone, and all the while as he walked through this dreamy winter landscape, something happened in the church that would threaten his lovely plan for a wonderful Christmas Evening Service!
But What Had Taken Place In His 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.
Poet & Composer:
Wonderful, don't you think, that while we don't even have a video production we can view to prove this to ourselves, we are told that we can rely on the fact that like most music teachers, Franz Gruber played more than one instrument; he also played the guitar. He took the simple loveliness of the beautiful sparse poem now titled 'Silent Night', and set it to a memorable melody. The rest is history and most of that is well documented. How the Christmas carol was taken by the organ mender (someone had to come and fix that breathless heap of wood! LOL ) back to his small village and taught the simple song to a small group of children.
What Happened Next To The Song?:
Somehow, from those village children the song found it's way to a well known cathedral in Salzburg. From St. Peter's it was heard in Paris. How it landed in London no one now knows but we do know that from London it traveled to the big cities in America. Then to the small, out of the way, towns. You could travel anywhere in North America, a continent spanning three thousand miles across and everywhere, in churches, school plays, homes and office Christmas parties, you'll hear them sing: 'Silent Night - Holy Night'.
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.
The master piece we gazed upon was in sharp contrast to her longing for her homeland. Without an introduction she began to sing. The 30 years of age difference disappeared when she sang. I discovered that at age 53 she began to take piano lessons and I, with all the perception that belonged to someone 24 wondered why in the world would someone that age begin something like, do, ray, me piano lessons?! Although my European roots were very close to being an immigrant as was she, I was, nonetheless, raised in America. This is the country where you learn the cost of everything but not necessarily the value of anything.
I was taken aback when she simply said that she had always wanted to play the piano and this was the first time she could. She was doing it for herself. I've never forgotten that. It was a lesson that is still with me. There are so many things that I still want to do and in the ways of the world, if it's only value is to be measured pounds and pence on a bottom line, well then, these things I want to do are equally a waste of time.
Memories Are Mentors:
The lasting impression from this incident of long ago, is all about how people are displaced and forever changed because of war.
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 13th, 2013. Everyone going about like headless chickens as Christmas is soon here. This Christmas Eve I shall sing this song to Michele, in her mother tongue, I wouldn't want her to think I've forgotten it. She'll like that.
Once the effects of 'the oral tradition' have taken hold on what could have been called solid history, the hard facts are faint and the romance, or spin are added and then history becomes more of a legend and sometimes pure myth.
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.
His name was Father Josef Mohr. On a day during Christmas week he went to visit a family who lived in a cabin high up on the surrounding hills. He walked there and the hike proved most pleasant for him and fortuitous for us. During the walk he became so aware of the loveliness of God's creation. He thought the silence composed the best music until he neared the brook and heard the water singing as it danced over the water worn stones. The emerald green trees must have looked stunning lining the ridge that offset the deep, clear, blue sky.
When he arrived, it was early evening and he was warmly greeted at the door. When he stepped in, the first thing he saw was a newly born babe with its mother in adoring attendance. Since we have no video production to view on YouTube LOL or a viral video to view that was sent to us thru one of the many social media networks, we'll have to rely on those who've suggested that this walk put Father Josef Mohr into a reflective state of mind about the original Nativity scene. There would be no doubt his state of mind since he was in the middle of preparing for the upcoming caroling service that he would officiate Christmas eve.
By the time he left for the Vicarage it was early nightfall. The moon shone all around and glistened brightly. It was almost like walking in daylight. But it was nightfall; a silient night and Father Mohr felt it to be particularly holy night,... so calm and bright. BUT, little did he know that while he was gone, and all the while as he walked through this dreamy winter landscape, something happened in the church that would threaten his lovely plan for a wonderful Christmas Evening Service!
But What Had Taken Place In His 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.
Poet & Composer:
Wonderful, don't you think, that while we don't even have a video production we can view to prove this to ourselves, we are told that we can rely on the fact that like most music teachers, Franz Gruber played more than one instrument; he also played the guitar. He took the simple loveliness of the beautiful sparse poem now titled 'Silent Night', and set it to a memorable melody. The rest is history and most of that is well documented. How the Christmas carol was taken by the organ mender (someone had to come and fix that breathless heap of wood! LOL ) back to his small village and taught the simple song to a small group of children.
What Happened Next To The Song?:
Somehow, from those village children the song found it's way to a well known cathedral in Salzburg. From St. Peter's it was heard in Paris. How it landed in London no one now knows but we do know that from London it traveled to the big cities in America. Then to the small, out of the way, towns. You could travel anywhere in North America, a continent spanning three thousand miles across and everywhere, in churches, school plays, homes and office Christmas parties, you'll hear them sing: 'Silent Night - Holy Night'.
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.
The master piece we gazed upon was in sharp contrast to her longing for her homeland. Without an introduction she began to sing. The 30 years of age difference disappeared when she sang. I discovered that at age 53 she began to take piano lessons and I, with all the perception that belonged to someone 24 wondered why in the world would someone that age begin something like, do, ray, me piano lessons?! Although my European roots were very close to being an immigrant as was she, I was, nonetheless, raised in America. This is the country where you learn the cost of everything but not necessarily the value of anything.
I was taken aback when she simply said that she had always wanted to play the piano and this was the first time she could. She was doing it for herself. I've never forgotten that. It was a lesson that is still with me. There are so many things that I still want to do and in the ways of the world, if it's only value is to be measured pounds and pence on a bottom line, well then, these things I want to do are equally a waste of time.
Memories Are Mentors:
The lasting impression from this incident of long ago, is all about how people are displaced and forever changed because of war.
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 13th, 2013. Everyone going about like headless chickens as Christmas is soon here. This Christmas Eve I shall sing this song to Michele, in her mother tongue, I wouldn't want her to think I've forgotten it. She'll like that.
About the Author:
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