Day 50 Original 'Silent Night' at Salzburg, Austria

24 December 2012

I did not recognize that my 50th day in Europe would be the day before Christmas.

I think this was the best Christmas eve I've ever witnessed.

We were two hours early in line. The eve mass was starting at 2330; we were there at 2100 waiting for the gates of the Salzburg Cathedral to open. We got a wrong information from the internet, so instead going back to our hotel, a good 10-minute walk from the church, we just killed time at the steps of the cathedral, as people crowded in group by group, speaking in various tongues, looking all either cold or cozy clad in piles of winter clothes. We chatted with whomever was standing close-by; for one, there was a family from California--husband, wife, and only daughter--who initiated a conversation with us after recognizing the familiar Tagalog accent we were speaking.

At 2300, the gates were opened; we were first in line, but the rest walked past us primarily because we were careful enough not to stir the sleeping baby in the stroller.

Once in, we were awed, openmouthed, amazed, enthralled, just speechless by the baroque beauty inside. Several enormous domes up there in the ceiling, all looking intricately carved and painted and built. And after looking up for what seems like eternity, you'd wonder whether it was all just optical illusion, if, after all, the ceiling was just flat.

From where we were seated, some 20 rows from the altar, we had a very good view, if you looked up long enough, of what was there in the middle of the main dome--an angel or a white large-winged bird as if at the brink of flying down toward you any minute.

And then the Christmas eve programme started. (I like to call it "programme" because it really was.)

A Catholic mass ceremony is a beauty to behold. The start of the eve mass was signaled by a bell ringing and that cued the people to stand up. An entire priesthood including altar boys slowly walked up, donned in perfectly ironed, impeccable white or gold-colored clergy clothing, one of them clutching a gold-like staff, another swinging an incense lamp.

Not always as formal and wonderfully implemented as this, but a mass is a programme or an outline that every Catholic church in the world follows. Even the way we are "supposed" to say our prayers. It is typically recommended to start with words of praises, then of gratitude, then of petition for forgiveness of sins, and then of our plenty requests to have this and that, to get this and that. Whether or not we say our prayers in this sequence, it is almost definite that the core composition of our prayers is one of asking or requesting. We are always asking for something. There is always a purpose to praying. Is there such a thing as praying without doing anything? Praying by being still?

As the eve mass was said in German, naturally I couldn't understand a thing. But having been raised a Catholic, I knew very well when it was my time to respond, to say Amen or Praise Be To God or to stand up or kneel when it was time to do so. All without understanding a word. Ceremonies, although sometimes followed blindly, are needed. There is a time for everything.

More than the formal mass ceremony, the occasion was also free entertainment. Being home to Mozart, Salzburg boasts of these solo and duo opera-like singers who sang in between readings; even the priest presider sang most of what he said. Every thing was perfect--from the choir, to their conductor, to the soloists and pianist and violinist who performed parts of the programme.

And when the part came when Jesus was supposedly born, the lights were turned off, leaving the gigantic church in darkness, save for Christmas lights adorning the tall Christmas tree at the altar--one of the few Christmas decors around; the church was already beautiful by itself--and the accent lights where the choir was and the two pulpits where stood another set each of singers.

Silent Night, in its original German version, in Austria where it was originally composed, and the guitar accompaniment with which it was originally played, on the eve of Christmas, just like how it was originally performed in 1818 (all according to wiki). How more blessed could I get!

It was so indescribably beautiful. The strumming echoed through the domes, across the carpeted halls, in this darkened 17th century cathedral, in Salzburg, Austria, as Christmas day dawned. I have never witnessed such a thing in my life. And I bet I shared this feeling with the rest of the thousands attending this mass from all walks of life, all continents, all colors, all languages. We all made it here for one purpose, whether we be devote Catholics or plain tourists.

Beautiful streets of Salzburg during Christmas

inside the Salzburg Cathedral on Christmas eve

Salzburg Cathedral

When the mass ended, the bishop, his entire array tailing him, went down, blessed the people, stopped particularly at little people, including my nephew, who was so peacefully sleeping in his stroller, totally innocent of the gesture given him. When he grows up, he will be told this story for sure. #