On the 10th Day of Christmas Past…
Question: What can we learn from Elder Wirthlin’s experience on Christmas Eve in Oberndorf, Austria?
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“Silent Night, Holy Night” By Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin
I had always dreamed of playing football at the university level, and during my freshman, sophomore, and junior years, I wore a crimson uniform and played running back. At that time, the world tottered on the brink of chaos. It was as though the entire world groaned in a volcano that had to erupt, that ultimately would erupt. Before it was over, every nation, every people felt the effects of those dark days.
I remember the day my father came to me. It was just after the 1936 football season had ended. “Joseph,” he said, “Do you want to go on a mission?” I told him I did. “Then you must go now,” he said. “If you wait any longer, you’ll never go.”
I didn’t want to believe him. I wanted to pursue my dream of continuing to play football and to graduate from the university. If I were to accept a mission call, I would have to give up everything. In those days a mission call was 30 months long, and I knew if I accepted, there was a good chance I would never play football again—perhaps I would not even be able to graduate. But I also knew what my father had said was true. I went to tell my bishop that now was the time. A few months later I stepped aboard the SS Manhattan and began a long voyage that would take me into the heart of the world crisis. My mission call was to the German/Austrian Mission.
My first field of labor was in Salzburg, Austria. The mission was shorthanded, and not long after I arrived, my companion was transferred to another district in the mission. Soon I found myself alone in Salzburg, a young missionary in a strange, new country. Six weeks I was alone. Six weeks I waited for a companion. Six weeks I wondered about what I might be doing had I stayed in Salt Lake City and continued my studies. A large army of Hitler’s Third Reich was gathering just over the border, not 20 miles from Salzburg. Everywhere you went you could sense a mounting tension in the air. No one knew if tomorrow would be the day the panzer tanks would flood across the border. I remember those days well. I don’t suppose there has been a time in my life when I felt more discouraged, more lost. The mission was a difficult one; no one seemed to have time for me or the message I brought. I wondered if there would ever be enough members in that city to make a tiny ward.
That year as Christmas Day 1937 approached, my new companion and I decided we would walk to Oberndorf, a little village nestled in the beautiful Bavarian Alps. You may know that the beauty and majesty of this little village is what inspired Joseph Mohr in 1818 to write the wonderful hymn “Silent Night.” So on Christmas Eve we walked to the village and sat quietly for a while in a small, humble church, listening to the calming strains of “Silent Night! Holy night!” As we listened to the choir’s harmony while standing in the very same church where the first rendition was sung, we were spiritually moved and filled with the true Spirit of Christmas. I had made the right decision!
Later when we walked home, my companion and I talked of our hopes and dreams. As we walked under the light of a full moon, we both made serious resolutions. I committed that night that I would not waste my time. I would renew my efforts to serve the Lord. I made up my mind that I would magnify any callings I received in the Lord’s kingdom. That was also the evening I made up my mind about whom I would marry. I didn’t know her name, but I had in my mind that type of a companion—one who lived the gospel and who was strong spiritually. I even described her to my companion—that she would be five feet five, that she would have blue eyes, and that she would have blonde hair. Here she sits tonight, fitting all of the description that I made of her at that time without knowing her. And so that night was important to me.
After serving for a time in Salzburg, I was transferred to Zurich, Switzerland. While I was there, Brother Julius Billeter, a member of the Church, approached me. He was a professional genealogist, and he told me he had seen quite a few Wirthlin names in his work. He offered to research my family lines. I wrote home, and my father thought it was a wonderful opportunity, so we hired him to begin. In those days it was hard to access records. A year later around Christmas time, he handed me a book. It was 14 inches long, 18 inches wide, and weighed 13 and one-half pounds. It was filled with nearly 6,000 names of my ancestors. It was a priceless volume that I treasured and would not have if I had not gone on my mission. Just before my missionary release, I packed the precious book in a steamer trunk along with some of my other possessions and shipped it home. I prayed that it would arrive safely and that the precious family history would not be lost.
I arrived home before the trunk. Weeks passed. Still no trunk. I began to worry that the irreplaceable book had been lost. Six months after I had arrived in Salt Lake City, I received a call from the Union Pacific depot. A trunk had arrived for me. I rushed down to retrieve it, but when I saw it, my heart sank. The lock on the trunk had been broken.
I pried up the lid, and when I looked inside, my heart fell further. Everything had been soaked with seawater. What is more, I could tell someone had rifled through my belongings. Some things were missing. I gingerly removed the layers of clothing, searching for my precious book. When I reached it, my heart overflowed with joy. Not only was it there, but the papers were completely dry! I know the book was preserved through divine intervention.
If saving a book from seawater can be worthy of heavenly attention, how much more will your Heavenly Father be aware of your life and your needs? The Lord knows your trials. He knows your victories. And if you will “trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding [but] In all thy ways acknowledge him, . . . he shall direct thy paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6).
At home, I remember hearing someone mention a name: Elisa Rogers, a young woman who was in charge of a university dance at the Hotel Utah. There was something special about that name. I decided I ought to meet her. I remember the first time I saw her. As a favor for a friend of mine, I had gone to her home to pick up her sister. Elisa opened the door and I stared. There she was, beautiful, five feet five, blue eyes, blonde hair. She must have had a feeling also, because she said to me, “I know who you was.” She quickly realized she had made a grammatical error. To fully appreciate that, you have to remember that she was an English major. Even after all of these years, she has remembered the embarrassment of that moment. Of course, my retelling this story doesn’t make matters better, but I trust she will forgive me.
Six decades have intervened since that Christmas Eve in Oberndorf when I made those resolutions. Much has happened in the intervening years. My premonitions about playing football were right. I never played again. But I did graduate from the university. Even so, I’ve never regretted serving a mission and committing myself to serving the Lord. By doing so, my life has been filled with adventure, spiritual experiences, and joy that surpasses understanding.
Many of you may be at a time in your lives when perhaps you are feeling a little discouraged or alone. Perhaps you feel a little lost, maybe even a little afraid. Everyone has felt this way at one time or another. Everyone has wondered if their life will ultimately be a happy one. First, have faith in your Heavenly Father. He knows who you are. He listens to you when you pray. He loves you. He is mindful of you. He wants the best for you.
Not long ago I had the opportunity to return with Sister Wirthlin to the place where I began my mission. My assignment was to organize the Salzburg Austria Stake. In a way it was a coming home for me. I remembered the days that I walked those cobblestone streets and wondered if there ever would be enough members to form a small ward. And here I was, years later, organizing a stake! My heart filled to overflowing as I looked over that congregation of faithful members and as I remembered the time I spent there.
As I look back on it now, I wonder if those times of trial and loneliness weren’t instrumental in strengthening my character and heightening my desire to succeed. Those times of seeming failure may have been some of the most instrumental of my life, because they prepared me for greater things to come.
While there, I traveled with my wife to Oberndorf. We walked the same road my companion and I had walked so many years before. And there, before the majestic mountains and pristine beauty of that small Bavarian village, I related to her once again of the silent night when I described to my companion the woman I would marry.
The resolutions I made on that holy night in Oberndorf, Austria, have been a guiding force throughout my life. Although I still have much to learn and to accomplish, I’ve done my best to have faith in God; I’ve done my best to focus on the things that are important in life; I’ve done my best to work hard at righteous tasks; I’ve done my best to magnify the callings I’ve received in the Church; and I’ve done my best to enjoy the journey.
May you do the same as you create of your lives something worthy of your divine heritage.
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