Can Jewish thought enlighten us on the topic of silence? Famously, in Chaim Potok’s, “The Chosen,” Danny, whose Hasidic father never talks to him outside of Talmud study, explains the concept of silence to Reuven, “You have to want to listen to it, and then you can hear it. It has a strange, beautiful texture. It doesn't always talk. Sometimes-sometimes it cries, and you can hear the pain of the world in it. It hurts to listen to it then. But you have to.”
In Potok’s view silence is also a means by which to hear the music of the spheres. The music is melancholy, it expresses pain because it reflects the suffering of an unredeemed world, an evil world in which millions of Jews can be taken to slaughter. The pain and anguish heard through silence is not just that of the people, but that of all of God's creations. The universe continues to sing God's praise in line with the Talmudic directive to praise God for bad tidings as He should be praised for good tidings. Therefore, the silence, even a sad silence, is inspirational and beautiful.
Perhaps not as famous is the silence heard by Elijah the Prophet on Mount Sinai. To review the story, Elijah attempts to demonstrate the power of God via the miraculous exploits on Mount Carmel. It works, God sends down a fire to consume Elijah’s sacrifice and the Jews react as Elijah desired. They kill the prophets of Ba’al and proclaim belief in the One God. But Elijah’s victory is short lived. Jezebel gives the order that he be killed and the people do not stand up to her. Elijah is forced to flee, and eventually he makes his way to Mount Sinai where he enters a cave. In the cave he has a vision. God asks him why he is there. Elijah recounts he zealousness but ultimate failure in attempting to convince Israel to leave their evil ways and return to God. He requests that God take his soul. God ignores Elijah’s request, “And He said: 'Go out, and stand on the mountain before God.' And, behold, God passed by. There was a great and strong wind that toppled the mountains, and broke the rocks before God; but God was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake; but God was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire; but God was not in the fire; and after the fire a small voice out of silence.”
Elijah attempted to convince the Jews of God’s presence by making loud noises and performing mighty feats, but that is not where God is found. God is found by listening to silence and through that hearing the faint chimes of the music of the spheres.
Both of the above examples demonstrate the second definition of silence (as identified in the last post), silence as a means of hearing something else. However, silence of the first definition, that which demonstrates absence and terror, is also found in the Jewish literature. In the fourth chapter of Job, Eliphaz of Teman attempts to convince Job that whatever punishment he received from God, was just. To prove his point, he relates a vision, “In thought-filled visions of the night, when deep sleep falls on men, 'Fear and trembling came upon me, causing all my bones to quake with fright.' In this vision a small voice emerges from the silence, 'Can mortals be acquitted by God? Can man be cleared by his Maker? He cannot trust His own servants, And casts reproach on His angels.' "
Eliphaz is thus cast into silence which, like the passengers on the Dawn Treader, causes fear and trembling. Something dreadful is about to fill the silence, and though faint, it is indeed crushing, a declaration that no man is innocent in the eyes of God (of course by the end of the book of Job, Eliphaz appears to be proven wrong. That issue, and the utilization of these verses in the Yom Kippur liturgy, will have to be explored elsewhere).
With all this in hand we are ready to return to the “Sound of Silence” in our next post.
In Potok’s view silence is also a means by which to hear the music of the spheres. The music is melancholy, it expresses pain because it reflects the suffering of an unredeemed world, an evil world in which millions of Jews can be taken to slaughter. The pain and anguish heard through silence is not just that of the people, but that of all of God's creations. The universe continues to sing God's praise in line with the Talmudic directive to praise God for bad tidings as He should be praised for good tidings. Therefore, the silence, even a sad silence, is inspirational and beautiful.
Perhaps not as famous is the silence heard by Elijah the Prophet on Mount Sinai. To review the story, Elijah attempts to demonstrate the power of God via the miraculous exploits on Mount Carmel. It works, God sends down a fire to consume Elijah’s sacrifice and the Jews react as Elijah desired. They kill the prophets of Ba’al and proclaim belief in the One God. But Elijah’s victory is short lived. Jezebel gives the order that he be killed and the people do not stand up to her. Elijah is forced to flee, and eventually he makes his way to Mount Sinai where he enters a cave. In the cave he has a vision. God asks him why he is there. Elijah recounts he zealousness but ultimate failure in attempting to convince Israel to leave their evil ways and return to God. He requests that God take his soul. God ignores Elijah’s request, “And He said: 'Go out, and stand on the mountain before God.' And, behold, God passed by. There was a great and strong wind that toppled the mountains, and broke the rocks before God; but God was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake; but God was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire; but God was not in the fire; and after the fire a small voice out of silence.”
Elijah attempted to convince the Jews of God’s presence by making loud noises and performing mighty feats, but that is not where God is found. God is found by listening to silence and through that hearing the faint chimes of the music of the spheres.
Both of the above examples demonstrate the second definition of silence (as identified in the last post), silence as a means of hearing something else. However, silence of the first definition, that which demonstrates absence and terror, is also found in the Jewish literature. In the fourth chapter of Job, Eliphaz of Teman attempts to convince Job that whatever punishment he received from God, was just. To prove his point, he relates a vision, “In thought-filled visions of the night, when deep sleep falls on men, 'Fear and trembling came upon me, causing all my bones to quake with fright.' In this vision a small voice emerges from the silence, 'Can mortals be acquitted by God? Can man be cleared by his Maker? He cannot trust His own servants, And casts reproach on His angels.' "
Eliphaz is thus cast into silence which, like the passengers on the Dawn Treader, causes fear and trembling. Something dreadful is about to fill the silence, and though faint, it is indeed crushing, a declaration that no man is innocent in the eyes of God (of course by the end of the book of Job, Eliphaz appears to be proven wrong. That issue, and the utilization of these verses in the Yom Kippur liturgy, will have to be explored elsewhere).
With all this in hand we are ready to return to the “Sound of Silence” in our next post.
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