“It’s such a silent night,” said Father Joseph on a quiet Christmas Eve in 1816 in a church in Salzburg, Austria. The day before, he had visited a sick child in the Austrian countryside, reminding him of the Christ child. He prayed for peace and asked God to bless the family and their child amid the snowy winter hillside.
A day later, when he tried to play his church organ, he discovered that mice had chewed through the bellows that were used to supply the instrument with wind. Although he tried to fix them, the music was stilled.
Water from a nearby river had also flooded parts of the church and damaged organ parts, making them icy.
“What are we going to do?” Father Joseph said, cleaning up the water and mice droppings in the sanctuary.
“Maybe if I write a new song, we could use the guitar instead of the organ for the Christmas Eve service.”
As he made his way into his office, he considered the sickly baby he had met just yesterday.
He stuck his pen in the ink jar on his desk and scribbled a batch of lyrics onto a crumpled piece of paper.
The lyric read:
My Yuletide Lullaby
Tonight I hold you in my arms
Soft and tender
I try to keep you from all harm
Love you forever
You are my son
You are a savior
You are my love
You are baby
So I sing this cradle song
So I guard you all night long
I soothe you as you cry
With my yuletide lullaby
My yuletide lullaby
You are not mine, it’s understood
Time has a purpose
I give you back to God for good
I must have courage
Sleep in peace
Peace be still
Sleep and dream
Dream God’s will
For the world
So I sing this cradle song
So I guard you all night long
I soothe you as you cry
With my yuletide lullaby
My yuletide lullaby
I bless you with my tears
My heart will not give way to fear
So I sing this cradle song
So I guard you all night long
I soothe you as you cry
With my yuletide lullaby
My yuletide lullaby
Considering that the new song needed music, Father Joseph ran off to his friend, a schoolteacher, Father Franz in a nearby village church. Although Father Franz could play the organ, he could also play the guitar.
“Can you finish my song before service tonight?” Father Joseph said, bursting through Father Franz’s front door. “Our organ broke, and I thought you could write something special for the guitar. I can’t do it myself.”
“Finish your song?” Father Franz said. “Even if I could finish it, who will play it at Mass tonight? I’d have to play for your service and then run right back to my service in the snow. I’m still writing my homily.”
“Mozart could figure out how to do it,” Father Joseph said. “Can’t you use a homily from last year?”
“I could use the end of a homily from two years ago,” Father Franz said. “No one will remember it anyhow.”
Franz took the crumpled piece of paper from Joseph and began to hum a melody while playing the guitar.
As Father Joseph paced back and forth in Franz’s home, Franz finally finished the music to the lyric.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous, Father Franz,” Father Joseph said with a tear in his eye. “My congregation will love it.
The next time the mice eat the organ bellows in a flood, I’ll just know it is time to write another new song.”
At the midnight Mass, two families of glovemakers sat in the front pews, in awe of the beautiful new hymn.
“How thoughtful of Father Joseph and Father Franz to write a new song for Christmas,” the glovemakers whispered. In fact, Father Joseph and Father Franz performed the song with just enough time for Father Franz to return to his service to give his last-minute homily, which he cut short to perform “My Yuletide Lullaby” for his congregation. Congregants went home in the dark singing the new standard to themselves.
“Could we please have a copy of the new hymn, Father Joseph?” the glovemaker said to the priest after service. “I would like to teach it to my children and friends. I could learn to play it on my own guitar.”
“My Yuletide Lullaby” was so loved at the Christmas Eve Mass in Salzburg that it spread to neighboring villages across Austria and eventually to singers who toured the world, performing for kings and queens.
As legend has it, the song is only to be sung on Christmas Eve and not a minute too soon, offering a peaceful blessing in tumultuous times. Everyone needs a silent night, but most of all at Christmas.
Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters
