When all is Silent, we truly hear.

One of the most famous pieces of music contains no sound.  John Cage’s 4:33 simply involves a pianist sitting at a piano, motionless. No keys are pressed, no melody played.  For four minutes and 33 seconds, all is silent.

Well, not really.

See, for Cage, the silence of the piano was never about the absence of music or the denial of sound. The point of the piece was to connect the audience more deeply to the music that surrounded them; By silencing the outward noise, the audience attuned themselves to the music within.

Broadly speaking, we rarely know how to sit in silence. We tend to treat silence as denial, as absence; Spiritual silence, therefore, is a divine dismissal. We fear God is ignoring us. Silence is treated as negation.  

Is this why it takes most people no more than 90 seconds before they begin to squirm uncomfortably? Is this why we try so hard to fill our lives with noise? What might we be missing by doing this? If we could push silence past our squirming, silence might lead us into deeper experiences of God’s presence and voice.

We have a wonderful example of this tucked within the pages of 1 Kings. Here we read about Elijah’s experience in the cave at Mount Horeb. We know the story. As Elijah stands in the cave, in a deep state of discouragement and fear, a great and powerful wind tears apart the mountain and shatters the rocks. Then, an earthquake shakes the foundation upon which Elijah is standing. Finally, a fire, like the very one he observed on Carmel, swirls around him.

I imagine Elijah was elated by this. This is what he was waiting for! But the Lord was not in any of these things.

How devastating this must have felt for Elijah. No divine movement, no manifestation of glory, no grand display of power. Elijah appears left alone with “the sound of sheer silence”, and in response, all he can do is throw on his cloak and exit the cave (1st Kings 19:13).

We often read this passage as if Elijah recognized the Lord’s voice in some dramatic way. We render the silence as “a still small voice.” We turn the scene into an instance of meditation. Elijah becomes a contemplative par-excellence! But here’s the thing: Elijah doesn’t respond to a voice. He does not question, or shout, or cry. He does not address God in any way. Instead, he begins to leave the cave.

I have always wondered if Elijah felt that the Lord wasn’t coming. After all, you don’t put on your cloak and begin walking away from the Mountain of God if you believe you have heard God’s voice. Did Elijah believe the silence spoke of God’s absence?

Too often this is how we can treat silence. We assume the silence contains no voice or activity.  We believe that silence speaks to the failure of our spiritual activity, and that God is not present. But what might happen if we rested in the silence, rather than avoided it?

In his book, Reaching out, Henri Nouwen writes, “Silence makes us attentive to God’s word.  The word of God penetrates through the thick of human verbosity to the silent center of our heart; and silence opens in us the space where the word can be heard.”

This is what Elijah experiences.  God moved in the very place where Elijah felt he was abandoned. As Elijah stands at the mouth of the cave he is approached by God’s voice, and in that approach, he is invited to disclose his discouraged heart.

Sure, silence can be difficult and frustrating, but it is also necessary for our spiritual lives. Silence helps center us; it refocuses us. When we pair our outward silence with an inward desire for God, silence becomes defined by what we are invited into, not what we deem to be absent. Silence allows us to put down our preconceived ideas about what God should say, or how God should act, so that we might receive God’s gifts as they come. To hold silence is to trust that God’s response to us will be the best response, in the best mode, and in the best time.

So, don’t bemoan the silence. Don’t rush past it. Go through it. Allow the silence to lead you to a deeper realization of the Lord’s presence. Because, like Elijah standing at Horeb, the Lord is with you.

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