Dear friends,

In 1951, the iconic composer John Cage famously visited the anechoic chamber at Harvard University. An anechoic chamber is a room designed in such a way that the walls, ceiling and floor absorb all sounds made in the room, rather than reflecting them as echoes. Such a chamber is also externally sound-proofed. Cage entered the chamber expecting to hear silence, but he wrote later, "I heard two sounds, one high and one low. When I described them to the engineer in charge, he informed me that the high one was my nervous system in operation, the low one my blood in circulation." Cage had gone to a place where he expected total silence, and yet heard sound. "Until I die there will be sounds. And they will continue following my death."

Cage realized that there is in fact no such thing as silence.

Elijah the prophet seems to have learned a similar lesson in a visit to a different chamber, the cave on “Horev, the mountain of God.” In the silence of the cave he was able to hear some words:

“Come out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD.”
And lo, the LORD passed by. There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and shattering rocks by the power of the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind—an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake.

After the earthquake—fire; but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire—the thin sound of perfect silence.

When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his mantle about his face and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then a voice addressed him: “Why are you here, Elijah?”

Silence often asks us that question. That’s what can be so uncomfortable about it. But it can also simply be enough.

Rocker Nick Cave recently expressed that duality like this:

Each day I pray into the silence. I pray to all of them. All of them who are not here. Into this emptiness, I pour all my desire and want and need, and in time this absence becomes potent and alive and activated with a promise. This promise that sits inside the silence is beauty enough. This promise, right now, is amazement enough. This promise, right now, is God enough. This promise, right now, is as much as we can bear.

After his visit to the anechoic chamber Cage composed what he considered to be his most important piece, which came to be known as 4’33”. It’s been performed countless times in arrangements ranging from solo piano to a full orchestra. Each time it sounded eerily alike, but very different.

Listen to one of those performances below.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Misha

Two Musical Greats and a Prophet