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Remembering a perfect Alpine Christmas

Remembering a perfect Alpine Christmas

Last updated on: December 4, 2025 at 2:43 pm by Dan Peterson

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Remembering a perfect Alpine Christmas 2025-12-04T14:43:33-07:00 Dan Peterson

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On many pages of the new Interpreter Foundation website, you will see an invitation to “Subscribe to Our Mailing List.”

Whether you like and appreciate what we do or merely want to keep up with the steady stream of vicious, rage-fueled inanity, buffoonery, and mendacity that we pump out, I hope that you will choose to do so. It will cost you nothing (beyond a few years of sanity and peace of mind).

The cover of Dr. Nahm’s book, from Amazon.com

Last night, I finished Dr. Michael Nahm’s fascinating book Wenn die Dunkelheit ein Ende findet: Terminale Geistesklarheit und andere ungewöhnliche Phänomene in Todesnähe. [“When the Darkness Comes to an End: Terminal Lucidity and Other Unusual Near-Death Phenomena”]. Time and again while reading it, I thought that it needs to be translated into English. (I haven’t looked very intensely, but I don’t believe that an English translation exists.) I’ve thought of doing a translation myself, but I simply have too many things on my plate as it is.

Are there any German-speakers out there who’re looking for an interesting project? I would be happy to be involved, and even to help. I could maybe coordinate it, but I can’t do it all.

It’s appropriate, coincidentally, to move (as I will now do) from a book entitled “When the Darkness Comes to an End” to a discussion of Christmas, which, not coincidentally, occurs very close to the winter solstice. That is, of course, the shortest day of the year in the northern hemisphere. After 21 December or 22 December, our days gradually become longer. The darkness comes to an end.

“St. Thomas Church on a winter morning” (Wikimedia Commons public domain image)
More than any other kind of landscape on earth, Alpine scenery such as this strikes me as a foretaste of heaven. And I love its music.

In December of every year since I launched this blog, I’ve called attention to some of my favorite Christmas music.

I remember very clearly when and where the marvelous carol Es ist ein Ros entsprungen (often called in English Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming), which was given its classical form by the German composer Michael Praetorius in 1609 but which originated sometime before that, first caught my attention. It has retained my attention ever since. (Please listen to a performance of it here.) I suppose that it’s possible that I had heard the song before, but, if I had, it hadn’t registered. Not even slightly.) I was attending a Latter-day Saint sacrament meeting in Interlaken, Switzerland, shortly before Christmas 1972. More than fifty years ago, now. Curiously, I don’t recall who sang the song. It may have been a branch or district choir.

I was enraptured. Riveted. I had seldom, if ever, heard anything so beautiful before. And Es ist ein Ros entsprungen affects me that way still. The German lyrics vary slightly from one printing to another, but I offer here a representative version of the text:

Es ist ein Ros entsprungen,
aus einer Wurzel zart,
wie uns die Alten sungen,
von Jesse kam die Art.
Und hat ein Blümlein bracht
mitten im kalten Winter,
wohl zu der halben Nacht.

Das Röslein, das ich meine,
davon Jesaja sagt,
hat uns gebracht alleine
Marie, die reine Magd.
Aus Gottes ew’gem Rat
hat sie ein Kind geboren
welches uns selig acht.

Das Blümelein, so kleine,
das duftet uns so süß,
mit seinem hellen Scheine
vertreibt’s die Finsternis.
Wahr Mensch und wahrer Gott
hilft uns aus allem Leide,
rettet von Sünd und Tod.

And here is a literal and quite unpoetic translation (partially my own) of the lyrics above:

A rose has sprung up
from a tender root.
As the ancients sang to us.
Its line came from Jesse
And it has brought forth a small flower
In the middle of the cold winter,
In the middle of the night.

The little rose that I mean,
Of which Isaiah told,
Mary alone, the pure maid,
Has brought to us.
By God’s eternal counsel
She has borne a child
Which makes us blessed.

The tiny flower, so small,
That smells so sweet to us,
With its bright gleam
Dispels the darkness
–True man and true God–
Helps us in all suffering,
Saves us from sin and death.

I’ve always loved the German lyrics. The English words just don’t move me as much — and I’m not referring merely to the literal and unpoetic version supplied above. But the music is gorgeous in any language.

A summer view of the Haslital in 2010 (Wikimedia Commons public domain photograph)

What I regard as my visually ideal Christmas — the Christmas against which all my other Christmases are measured, in that respect — occurred at roughly the same time, in December 1972, that I first fell in love with Es ist ein Ros entsprungen. I was about a quarter of the way into my Latter-day Saint mission in German-speaking Switzerland, assigned in the midst of the magnificent Berner Oberland to the branch in Interlaken. A prominent Swiss member family invited me and my companion to Christmas Eve dinner at their exceptionally large and beautiful home in Innertkirchen, in the Haslital.

There was fresh snow on the ground, brilliantly white. The night was exceptionally clear and crisp, and perfectly serene. The mountains surrounded us, glowing brightly white under stars and a full or close-to-full moon. It was a picture-perfect Alpine Christmas. It was magical, and it lives richly on in my memory. For me, as (I suspect) for many others, Christmas holiday traditions are a blend of (I hope!) the New Testament Nativity story with elements from the Alps and from England. And, in my case, rarely but optimally accompanied with a decent quantity of Norwegian potato lefse. At some point during the next few weeks, we’ll also enjoy fondue and, almost certainly, raclette.

A view of Innertkirchen and the Aare River (from the beginning of the spectacular Aareschlucht, in the Berner Oberland area of Switzerland) on a summer day. (Wikimedia Commons public domain image)

Always wanting to be helpful, I share with you a couple of lists of things to do to get into the Christmas mood. The first would require you to be present within a reasonable distance of Temple Square, but the second wouldn’t:

Making a donation through a Giving Machine in Atlanta, Georgia, in December 2022

In keeping with tradition, I close with a few horrifying finds from the Christopher Hitchens Memorial “How Religion Poisons Everything” File™:

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