It's a given that most of the English speaking world has heard both the melody and lyrics of the song, or hymn titled: Amazing Grace but far fewer know how the beloved Christmas Time Carol was conceived of and written. As a video producer, I wish I had been there with todays technology so that I could record an interview from the song's poet and composer. I would like to have that video production because the story I'm going to relay here is just one of the many versions told about this hymn.
If you really want to appreciate the 'effects of the oral tradition' go and read a few of the stories about the origins of this Christmas Carol. More or less the hard facts you find are the same but the way they're put together varies. Its interesting, really it is.
Christmas Carol Was First Written As A Poem:
It was a poem a Clergyman wrote during the few days that preceded one Christmas Eve in 1818. That was 195 years ago and it doesn't seem its worn out its welcome yet! This Clergyman lived and served in a small Austrian Village, nestled in the Alps, known as Oberndorf.
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.
By the time he arrived to the cabin it was nearly nightfall. The family greeted him warmly and as soon as he was in the door, his attention was drawn to a corner near the fireplace where a newly born babe and his attending mother were resting. Since we haven't a Youtube viral video sent to us thru social media, we'll have to just imagine that Father Mohr was thinking about the Nativity Scene of so long ago that our Christmas observations are framed around.
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..!
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.
The Poet showed the newly scripted poem to his friend; given that the organ was absolutely breathless, no wind, no sound, no music...having a poem that Fanz Gruber could set to music was a Godsend. The Choir Master said that the poem itself suggested the tune.
Poet & Composer Collaborate:
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?:
Then it ended up in the most famous cathedral of Salzburg, St. Peters. Then it travelled somehow to Paris...then to London and from there it arrived like so many other immigrants, to America. First in the big cities then to the small towns and now everywhere, during the Christmas season, you'll hear 'Silent Night, Holy Night.
When My Austrian Friend Sang Silent Night To Me:
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.
Lessons Learned Form My Memories:
What I most recall about listening to her singing that carol in Austrian and then teaching it to me was the depth of her longing for her homeland. I knew that they had come out of Nazi Germany and immigrated to Canada to escape so much unspeakable sorrow. And her singing that song, on this Christmas eve was particularly poignant since she did not consider herself a Christian. The belief in God, as she put it, died in the horror of the 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 beautiful. She had dreamy blue eyes and blond hair with many curls. She had a noticeable nervous tic that was somehow endearing. Although she was overwrought most of the time and had a profound and noticeable capacity for critical thinking. She introduced me to many aspects of literature and was always interested and impressed about my passionate interest in the Bible and my knowledge of its writers.
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.
If you really want to appreciate the 'effects of the oral tradition' go and read a few of the stories about the origins of this Christmas Carol. More or less the hard facts you find are the same but the way they're put together varies. Its interesting, really it is.
Christmas Carol Was First Written As A Poem:
It was a poem a Clergyman wrote during the few days that preceded one Christmas Eve in 1818. That was 195 years ago and it doesn't seem its worn out its welcome yet! This Clergyman lived and served in a small Austrian Village, nestled in the Alps, known as Oberndorf.
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.
By the time he arrived to the cabin it was nearly nightfall. The family greeted him warmly and as soon as he was in the door, his attention was drawn to a corner near the fireplace where a newly born babe and his attending mother were resting. Since we haven't a Youtube viral video sent to us thru social media, we'll have to just imagine that Father Mohr was thinking about the Nativity Scene of so long ago that our Christmas observations are framed around.
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..!
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.
The Poet showed the newly scripted poem to his friend; given that the organ was absolutely breathless, no wind, no sound, no music...having a poem that Fanz Gruber could set to music was a Godsend. The Choir Master said that the poem itself suggested the tune.
Poet & Composer Collaborate:
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?:
Then it ended up in the most famous cathedral of Salzburg, St. Peters. Then it travelled somehow to Paris...then to London and from there it arrived like so many other immigrants, to America. First in the big cities then to the small towns and now everywhere, during the Christmas season, you'll hear 'Silent Night, Holy Night.
When My Austrian Friend Sang Silent Night To Me:
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.
Lessons Learned Form My Memories:
What I most recall about listening to her singing that carol in Austrian and then teaching it to me was the depth of her longing for her homeland. I knew that they had come out of Nazi Germany and immigrated to Canada to escape so much unspeakable sorrow. And her singing that song, on this Christmas eve was particularly poignant since she did not consider herself a Christian. The belief in God, as she put it, died in the horror of the 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 beautiful. She had dreamy blue eyes and blond hair with many curls. She had a noticeable nervous tic that was somehow endearing. Although she was overwrought most of the time and had a profound and noticeable capacity for critical thinking. She introduced me to many aspects of literature and was always interested and impressed about my passionate interest in the Bible and my knowledge of its writers.
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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