Silent Night
During our first big snow this past week, I was up in the wee hours of the morning. As the snow floated from the heavens, I could see from my bay window rare, infrequent headlights traveling down State Road 37. My home seemed especially silent — evoking the peaceful nights of past Christmas Eves.
Hours earlier, after an evening of disassembling our bed, with attached bookshelf and lighting in preparation for a new bedroom paint job, I found a thin, 5-by-7, 125-page book that had fallen and become stranded between the wall and floor of our bed bookshelf. I have no idea how long Henri Nouwen’s book “With Open Hands” had been screaming for help to be found — at the very least 365 days, probably a few years, but possibly a decade. His first book on prayer and spirituality was first published in 1972, but this Ave Maria Press began their reissue on April 1, 2006.
The first chapter was entitled “Prayer and Silence.”
We know there is some connection between prayer and silence, but if we think about silence in our lives, it seems that it isn’t always peaceful — silence can also be frightening. Nouwen later explains silence:
“Silence is full of sounds: the wind murmuring, the leaves rustling, the birds flapping their wings, the wave washing ashore. And even if these sounds cannot be heard, we still hear our own quiet breathing, the motion of our hands over our skin, the swallowing in our throats, and the soft patter of our footsteps. But we have become deaf to these sounds of silence.”
As I write this, I can hear the background noise of a truck traveling down 37 and a nearby clock ticking. I wonder what sounds the shepherds heard the night Jesus was born. Luke 2:8-9 tells us they were in nearby fields keeping watch over their flocks at night. Did they hear the cry of baby Jesus amongst the sounds of baying sheep, wind-blown grass and heavenly hosts singing Alleluia?
And 1,800 years later, what sounds of silence did Joseph Mohr and Franz Xaver Gruber hear as they wrote the score and lyrics to “Silent Night” in Obernorf, Austria on Christmas Eve — a favorite Christmas carol for almost 200 years.
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,
Shepherds quake at the sight;
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ the Savior is born,
Christ the Savior is born!
