Christmas Eve

It was Christmas time in the Bavarian Alps in 1937. I have always loved Christmas. There is a special spirit about it. The chill in the winter air is the perfect counterpoint to the warmth that should fill our hearts as we contemplate the message of salvation found in the birth, and life, and the resurrection of our Lord and Savior.
I experienced that warmth many years ago while serving as a missionary for the Church just prior to the outbreak of World War II. As you might expect, the possibility of armed conflict was very intense. But, as Christmas approached, our thoughts were drawn to the Savior. We rejoiced in the privilege of serving Him during that sacred season in the famous city of Salzburg, Austria.

On Christmas Eve, Elder Staker Olson and I visited the village of Oberndorf, nestled securely in the beautiful Bavarian Alps. It was a crisp, clear winter night. We walked under a canopy of stars, across the smooth stillness of new-fallen snow to a humble little church where a familiar melody beckoned with its message of hope and peace. Inside, a choir was singing in German a carol that brought warmth to our hearts on that cold winter night. Though we were far from our homes and families, we were filled with our Heavenly Father's love and comforted by His Spirit as we listened to the calming strains of "Silent Night! Holy Night!"
Perhaps it was like the night that more than a century earlier inspired the assistant pastor in that quaint village to write the words to one of the most beloved hymns in all of Christendom. In 1818, Joseph Mohr was walking in the mountains above Oberndorf when he was overcome with the sublime beauty that surrounded him: The towering, majestic mountains; the brilliance of the stars in the sky; the shimmering glow of moonlight reflected on snow-covered hills and valleys; and the warm, welcoming lights of the village.
The setting provided inspiration for the new hymn Joseph Mohr was writing for Christmas services the next day. As he made his way homeward, words and phrases came together in his mind:

Silent night! Holy night!
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin mother and Child.
Holy Infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace;
Sleep in heavenly peace.


Silent night! Holy night!
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth;
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.

Joseph Mohr took his words to Franz Gruber, the church organist. Since the church's organ was broken, Gruber had to compose music for the new hymn on his guitar. But the tune came easily, and the next day "Silent Night" had its first performance in that unique little church. Sung by its creators to Gruber's guitar accompaniment, it probably sounded a little different from the full, rich, harmonious version we sing today. But the message was the same.

As we listened to the choir's harmony while standing in the very same church where the first rendition of this sacred song was sung, we were spiritually moved. We were filled with the true spirit of Christmas.

As we left Oberndorf and walked about fifteen miles to our humble lodgings in old Salzburg, we spoke of life more confidently. Our goals and aspirations were clear, and we were both focused as to our direction in life.
Much of our conversation centered on our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We felt closer to Him that Christmas Eve. As we savored that sense of God's love for us, we also felt an outpouring of His love toward all mankind. Even with the threat of war hanging heavily over Austria and the rest of the world, for one night, at least, "all [was] calm, all [was] bright." It was, truly, a "holy night," a Christmas that we will never forget.

I love and miss Elder Wirthlin. A couple of his talks literally changed my life, and I'm grateful for that.