Father Joseph Mohr sat at the old organ. His fingers stretched over
the keys, forming the notes of a chord. He took a deep breath and
pressed down. Nothing. He lifted his fingers and tried again. Silence
echoed through the church.
Father Joseph shook his head. It was no
use. The pipes were rusted, the bellows mildewed. The organ had been
wheezing and growing quieter for months, and Father Joseph had been
hoping it would hold together until the organ builder arrived to repair
it in the spring. But now, on December 23, 1818, the organ had finally
given out. St. Nicholas Church would have no music for Christmas.
Father
Joseph sighed. Maybe a brisk walk would make him feel better. He pulled
on his overcoat and stepped out into the night. His white breath puffed
out before him. Moonlight sparkled off the snow-crusted trees and
houses in the village of Oberndorf. Father Joseph crunched through the
snowy streets to the edge of the little Austrian town and climbed the
path leading up the mountain.
From high above Oberndorf, Father
Joseph watched the Salzach River ripple past St. Nicholas Church. In the
spring, when melting snow flowed down the mountains and the river
swelled in its banks, water lapped at the foundation of the church. It
was moisture from the flooding river that had caused the organ to mildew
and rust.
Father Joseph looked out over the Austrian Alps. Stars shone above in the still and silent night.
Silent
night? Father Joseph stopped. Of course! "Silent Night!" He had written
a poem a few years before, when he had first become a priest, and he
had given it that very title. "Silent Night."
Father Joseph scrambled down the mountain. Suddenly he knew how to bring music to the church.
The
next morning, Father Joseph set out on another walk. This time he
carried his poem. And this time he knew exactly where he was going -- to
see his friend Franz Gruber, the organist for St. Nicholas, who lived
in the next village.
Franz Gruber was surprised to see the priest
so far from home on Christmas Eve, and even more surprised when Father
Joseph handed him the poem.
That night Father Joseph and Franz
Gruber stood at the altar of St. Nicholas Church. Father Joseph held his
guitar. He could see members of the congregation giving each other
puzzled looks. They had never heard a guitar played in church before,
and certainly not during midnight mass on Christmas Eve, the holiest
night of the year.
Father Joseph picked out a few notes on the
guitar, and he and Franz Gruber began to sing. Their two voices rang
out, joined by the church choir on the chorus. Franz Gruber's melody
matched the simplicity and honesty of Father Joseph's words.
When
the last notes faded into the night, the congregation remained still for
a moment, then began to clap their hands. Applause filled the church.
The villagers of Oberndorf loved the song! Father Joseph's plan to bring
music to St. Nicholas Church had worked.
A few months later, the
organ builder arrived in Oberndorf and found the words and music to
"Silent Night" lying on the organ. The song enchanted him, and when he
left, he took a copy of it with him.
The organ builder gave the
song to two families of traveling singers who lived near his home. The
traveling singers performed "Silent Night" in concerts all over Europe,
and soon the song spread throughout the world.
Today, cathedral
choirs and carolers from New York to New Zealand sing the simple song
that was first played in a mountain church in Austria on Christmas Eve
nearly 200 years ago.
-- By Dick Smolinski
