Silent Night, Holy Night by Lynn Dove

 The second wave of Covid-19 is hitting us especially hard here in Alberta.  My small town of Cochrane has had over fifty active cases and a staggering number of people have been diagnosed province-wide with the virus.  To combat the spread, our Provincial Government is forced to place more restrictions on us.  On the minds of everyone is, "How do we celebrate Christmas this year?"

We are told that we can no longer have any kinds of indoor gatherings other than those who live in the same household together.  We cannot have outdoor gatherings with numbers of more than ten people, and even if we keep the numbers to ten outside, we must all wear masks, keep distance from one another, and not share food.  Keeping in mind Alberta temperatures can dip to -25 degrees Celsius, so meeting outside may not be an option.

I have three married adult children and five grandchildren.  Including my husband and I, that makes thirteen loved ones whom I had hoped to gather on Christmas Eve for our dinner and gift opening.  There is the strong likelihood that we may not be able to do that this year due to the Covid restrictions.  For my husband and I, it would mark the first time we would be alone for Christmas since our children were born.  

And it is breaking my heart.

2020 is a year best forgotten I suppose.  I keep hearing people say it was the "worst" year ever!  I would imagine to many who are experiencing financial hardship, grief, isolation, and anxiety brought on by this pandemic, 2020 may be the most challenging year some have ever faced.  I can't say that personally.

2020 was my "recovery" year from my battle with cancer in 2019.  I celebrated strength, stamina and my hair returning!  My youngest daughter was married in July, and my fifth grandchild was born to my son and daughter-in-love the day before the wedding.  My husband and I managed to get out camping quite a bit to combat the Covid blues.  Just being able to enjoy the great outdoors kept our minds off the stresses brought on by forced lockdowns.  We took long drives, exploring sights we had all but taken for granted before Covid forced everyone to change travel plans.  My oldest daughter and son-in-love sold their house quite unexpectedly and are now building their "forever" home only ten minutes away from us.  Although we do not know what will happen in the days or weeks to come, my children still have jobs, we all have homes, and we all have our health.  All things considered; I certainly cannot call it the "worst" year for us as a family. 

Setting up my Christmas tree this year, I put on a DVD with a compilation of all my favourite Christmas hymns, carols and songs, to force myself to get into the spirit of the season.  I tried to sing along to some of them, but admittedly my heart just was not into it until I heard "Silent Night".    

"Silent Night", written by an Austrian priest named, Joseph Mohr just after the end of the Napoleonic Wars, was an attempt to bring a sense of hope to his little congregation who had suffered through twelve years of war and were now experiencing bitter cold and widespread famine.  Mohr hoped that the song's message of peace and of God's goodness in giving us the Gift of His Son, would speak into the hearts of those who were experiencing such hardship in 1818.  

"Silent Night" has always been one of my most beloved Christmas songs.  We sing it every Christmas Eve at church and at home.  It describes so melodically what my Danish parents always called the night before Christmas: "Hygge Aften".  

"Hygge" is a Danish word used to acknowledge a feeling or moment.  "Aften" is the Danish word for "evening".  Many of my Danish relatives will tell you that "Hygge" cannot be translated adequately into English because there is no one word to describe it.  To experience a sense of "hygge" is to be fully present in the moment, to recognize the blissful feeling of tranquility; to be in a state of perfect peace.  The Nativity scene, with Mary embracing Baby Jesus in her arms while He sleeps in heavenly peace, is the closest I can come to describing a visual representation of the first perfect "Hygge Aften". 

"Silent night, Holy night

All is calm, all is bright

Round yon virgin, mother and child

Holy infant, tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace." 

My husband and I are already thinking about how we might be spending this Christmas without our family gathered around us.  I know we will profoundly feel the silence of the night, without our children and grandbaby voices and laughter around us.  It will be a far different Christmas than the one I had thought we would have, but I am still determined this year to experience "Hygge Aften" with the same sense of wonderment as I do every year.  I will purposefully immerse myself in quiet contemplation of what Christmas is all about.  I choose to fully embrace the Joy of the Season giving praise to God for the incomparable Gift of His Son given to us on the most holy of nights.  

The song "Silent Night" alludes to the fact that the first Christmas was not at all what was expected on that starry night over two thousand years ago.  Although the Saviour of the world was prophesied, no one expected a King would be born in such lowly estate, with angels heralding His birth.  The shepherds never imagined that a baby lying in a manger would be their Deliverer and mine as well.

"Silent night, Holy night

Shepherds quake, at the sight

Glories stream from heaven above

Heavenly, hosts sing Hallelujah.

Christ the Savior is born,

Christ the Savior is born.

Silent night, Holy night

Son of God, loves pure light

Radiant beams from Thy Holy Face

With the dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus, Lord, at Thy Birth!

Jesus, Lord, at Thy Birth!"

The first three verses of "Silent Night" I know so well, but it is the rest of the song I seldom sing that have a poignant meaning for me this Christmas as never before:

"Silent night, Holy night

Here at last, healing light

From the heavenly kingdom sent,

Abundant grace for our intent.

Jesus, salvation for all.

Jesus, salvation for all.

Every year I pray that friends and family will accept the Gift of Salvation through Jesus Christ, and that the Good News will bring the promise of Hope to a lost and hurting world.  Singing the last two verses of "Silent Night" becomes my heartfelt prayer for 2021, that each of us would be reminded that God is in control, no matter our circumstances.  I pray for that peace that surpasses understanding as we celebrate, each in our own way in 2020, and look forward with great anticipation to the New Year ahead.

"Silent night, Holy night

Sleeps the world in peace tonight.

God sends His Son to earth below

A Child from whom all blessings flow

Jesus embraces mankind.

Jesus embraces mankind.

Silent night, Holy night

Mindful of mankind's plight

The Lord in Heav'n on high decreed

From earthy woes we would be freed

Jesus, God's promise for peace.

Jesus, God's promise for peace."

Amen!

(read more of the history of  the song, "Silent Night" here: https://theconversation.com/the-humble-origins-of-silent-night-108653) and the translations of the song: https://www.stillenacht.at/en/text-and-music

(This post was originally published on December 7th, 2020 on Lynn's blog: "Journey Thoughts")

Lynn Dove is the award-winning author, of the YA “Wounded Trilogy”- a contemporary Christian fiction series with coming-of-age themes.  A wife, mom, grandmother, and free-lance writer with articles published in several magazines and anthologies including Chicken Soup for the Soul books, her blog, “Journey Thoughts” is a Canadian Christian Writing Award winner.  Readers may connect with her at lynndove.com 

Silent Night - Guest post by Kathleen Friesen

A few years ago, lights from the Christmas tree reflected on my piano’s glossy surface as I opened my new music book, a gift from our church, to one of my favorite Christmas carols, “Silent Night.” My husband wanted to watch the news on TV, so I plugged in the headphones that directed sound from the electronic instrument to my ears only. 

This arrangement of “Silent Night” began simply with the soothing melody. 

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.

I played on, following the written score as it added harmonies, point and counterpoint.

Silent night, holy night. 

Shepherds quake at the sight.

Glories stream from heaven afar;

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!

Christ the Savior is born

Christ the Savior is born.

But then the newscast behind me intruded. Some poor homeless man had been found nearly frozen to death. War had erupted in two more areas, details to follow. Financial gurus predicted hardships in the New Year. On and on, bad news assaulted my ears as my fingers played.

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.

The contrast jarred me. Today, we endure a pandemic and global political unrest and injustice, but wars, brutality, tragedy were just as prevalent when Jesus took on mortality. Consider what happened shortly after the visitation from the wise man: Herod ordered all little boys up to two years of age to be slaughtered. Oh, the horror! The incredible grief! Where childish laughter had filled the air, screams of agony rang. 

I shook my head with the awareness that dreadful times are nothing new. The world needed and still needs the healing comfort of redemption, which only comes through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.

Redeeming grace is God’s gift to us. Hardships and trauma still surround us and affect us, but because Jesus gave up Heaven’s glory to live in our mess, we have hope. What a wonderful reason to celebrate!

Today, joy brings tears to my eyes as I play,

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.

May all the blessings of Christmas bring peace and joy to you and yours.

___________

Kathleen Friesen has always loved to lose herself in a good story, especially tales of love and faith that overcome. These days, she'll often get lost in her current work in progress, whatever it may be. Kathleen's stories invite the reader to risk faith, dare to love, and enjoy the results.

When she’s not at the keyboard, you can find Kathleen gardening, visiting with friends old and new, or helping her husband renovate their house. When the renovations are finally done, there may be a party.

Silent Night Memories – Denise M. Ford

When we made our way into the restored one-room schoolhouse, we had no idea what joy would unfold there. We slid onto a side bench overlooking the rows of inkwell desks where countless children had slumped between the hard iron and wooden chairs. Mother squeezed my hand and pointed toward the schedule of entertainers noted in the program we had received as we entered.

Shooting in the New Year Blessing

“I know him, I worked with his mother. He’s giving the New Year’s blessing. And this group, they are the singers that came to our church when Daddy was still alive.”

Later I would relate this day to my friends, “We shared a day with mother at an historic Pennsylvania Dutch Farm, it can only be described as a gift from the Lord.”

As we sat and listened to the speaker closing his presentation, mother asked me to walk over to see what book he had been promoting. Turns out it featured scripts from a 1930s and 1940s radio show that had been popular in the Lehigh and Berks County area.  I bought a copy since each page printed the scripts in Pennsylvania Dutch with English translations lined up next to them. This would give me an opportunity to learn key phrases in the language that my Dad always feared would fade away from use. I bought a copy of the book and brought it to show mother before the next performance. She hugged the book as if I had given her a treasure and laughed with exclamations of recognition as she paged through it.

“We would hurry home from church on Sundays so we could listen to this radio show!  Look I never knew the speakers were two men, they spoke like a husband and wife! It’s all here! The shows we laughed at as we sat at our kitchen table. Look at that, I never pictured them like that, but there they are!”

The Belsnickel

Soon we heard pounding at the windows and banging at the doors.  A Pennsylvania Dutch version of Santa Claus, Belsnickel, appeared at the back of the classroom demanding to know if those in attendance had been naughty or nice.  Mother recounted her memories of her uncle dressing up to be a Belsnickel and scaring the cousins on Christmas Eve. 

“He would pound on the wooden siding and we would run and hide as fast as we could.  He always carried a big stick.  But he never came inside, he only pounded on the house to scare us.”

The Belsnickel at this performance obviously was a hunter since he was dressed in animal skins complete with antlers upon his head.  Mother whispered to me, “Our Belsnickel never looked like that. But he did give us a good scare!”

The New Year’s Blessing presentation included some familiar Pennsylvania Dutch songs that mother happily joined in to sing and clap along to the music.  But the most beautiful time unfolded as the closing music trio performed.

To the accompaniment of a banjo, a bass and a fiddle we sang in unison to several Christmas Carols and finally to Silent Night.  We didn’t have candles in our hands as we traditionally had during Christmas Eve services.  But we held each other’s hand and let the tears run down our faces as we lifted our hearts together to sing this beautiful Christmas song, thinking of many Christmases past and all the loved ones who had sung this song with us.

I had chosen to come home to visit mother over the timeframe that encompassed the anniversary of my Dad’s birthday, his stroke and finally his death.  This Pennsylvania Dutch Christmas celebration at the Kutztown University Pennsylvania German Cultural Heritage Center happened to fall on the last Saturday of my stay. 

Later as we sat outdoors in the open barnyard, mother reached over again and clasped my hand. 

“Thank you for this beautiful day,” she said.  “Daddy would have enjoyed this too!”

With that my husband appeared to serve us our simple lunch from the barn refreshment stand: hot dogs with sauerkraut and a gooey piece of Shoofly pie. I hadn’t known what would transpire at this small celebration in a corner of our Pennsylvania Dutch area. It provided in wondrous ways, Christmas memories that will forever come to mind as I sing Silent Night.

On the way home we drove up the winding roads to New Jerusalem to her childhood church and to the cemetery in which her family is buried.  We paid our respects at the Geisinger, Miller and Hertzog sites. Finally, we pulled into the small town where I grew up. We had brought the Christmas decoration for Dad’s grave, so we made a final stop at Solomon’s Church cemetery grounds.  The shortened day of December welcomed the moon coming to settle over us as we walked to the gravesite.

In the distance Macungie mountain rose up, resolute in its reminder of strength and solace to my little town. The chimes from the bell tower atop my old schoolhouse on Main street rang out the hour and the tune carried down to Church street to where we stood.  Mother reached for my hand and again we shared the tears brought forth by Silent Night memories only we knew.

Song Of The Bells ~ by Marcia Janson

Childhood memories tend to come to me in vignettes, often with very little context in which to interpret them.  They are like small ice chunks that have broken away from a glacier, bobbing along on the surface of a spring thaw river.

Sometimes when I catch sight of them, I pluck them out and have a look-see. The Christmas bits are particularly compelling. Nostalgia gives them a crystalline sparkle and I enjoy caressing the smooth, time-eroded surfaces. I catch a glimpse of my siblings and me decorating the tree with miniature carousel ornaments that twirl round at the slightest breath of air. Snow ball-shaped lights frame the picture window and crackling wood radiates warmth from the fireplace.

I remember the thrill of anticipation over the special gift “Santa” would bring and the soft, buttery taste of Mom’s shortbread. And there was the excitement of staying up very late to go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. I loved being in the children’s chorus, singing carols from our perch up in the choir loft. We had a grandstand view of the magical, life-size manger scene at the front of the sanctuary.

 When I was ten years old, we moved to the other side of town. There was no midnight service in the church there, so we stayed home. How we spent the evening is not part of my memory flow, but one vignette from that Christmas Eve has stayed with me all my life. 

It was quite late and I was lying snugly in bed, my little sister sleeping peacefully nearby. All was quiet in the house and my mind, over-stimulated by holiday activity, was trying to process everything. All the anxieties and excitements of the day clamoured for attention and I was trying to tuck them away so I could settle down and fall sleep.

And then I heard the church bells.  A waterfall of notes cascaded through the darkness and settled into a tune I recognized.

Silent night, holy night.

All is calm, all is bright….

 I sang the words quietly to myself as carol after carol pealed out and something hidden way down inside me started to let go and relax.

Oh holy night! The stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth...

I don’t think that my ten-year old self had any astounding theological revelations that night. But I do believe that God rejoiced and sang over me in the music of the bells. And, as the carol proclaims, my “soul felt its worth”. 

Isn't that what we all need? May the Lord sing over you as you celebrate the advent of His Son into our world.

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace.

________________________________________________________________
Photo credits
Icy river: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nicmcphee/916741349/
Nativity scene: http://www.flickr.com/photos/16502322@N03/6568703575/
Star: http://www.flickr.com/photos/the-maestros/352417169/