Sound to Silence

Painting: King David in Prayer, 1600–1652, Pieter de Grebber

“The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.” 

This anonymous quote often attributed to Mozart provides a poignant point to the effects of music and the human person.

Often in our plight for beautiful music and liturgy, we can forget that the purpose of it all is for us to have a personal encounter with God - to draw closer to His heavenly glory and to provide a foretaste of Heaven on earth in our dialogue with Him.

If we consider the Mass, there are deliberate moments where silence is requested. The word ‘silence’ is referenced no less than 19 times in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal. The entire Mass is encouraged to be punctuated by pauses and points of silence, much like rhythm in music. 

From a liturgical and musical perspective, during the season of Lent, it is mandated that the organ and other instruments are suppressed and only used to support the singing – to provide more contemplation, more gravitas, more interior awareness.

It is in these moments we are given a chance to be with ourselves, to feel the weight of what has happened and what is yet to come in the liturgy and in our daily life. 

Contrary to the spiritual life, and with noise pervading our liturgies today, it’s clear the world despises silence. No one is left with their own thoughts anymore.

The human person prefers frenetic activity, but dialogue with God is not found in the noise. The Church in her wisdom understands this.

Let us reflect on 1 Kings 11-13:

“Then the LORD said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will pass by. There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before 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; after the fire, a light silent sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. ”

In the silent sound Elijah found God. There was noise and activity before, but God withheld His presence until the silence.

Painting: Elijah Fed by the Raven, c. 1510, Giovanni Girolamo Savoldo

The liturgy and traditional sacred music is to lead us from the noise of our life to that interior place where we can encounter the Lord, where He can show His Divine Presence.

On my website ‘The Musica Sacra Project’, I have on the reading list ‘The Power of Silence’ by Him Eminence Robert Cardinal Sarah. This book is not to teach musicians about music, but about what happens after the music ends. There is a deep lack of understanding in our modern Church of the healing power after the final musical cadence.

Cardinal Sarah writes: 

“Silence is not an absence. On the contrary, it is the manifestation of a presence, the most intense presences. In modern society, silence has come into disrepute; this is the symptom of a serious worrisome illness. The real questions of life are posed in silence. Our blood flows through our veins without making any noise, and we can hear our heartbeats only in silence.”

Many of our music ministries and parishes have this same illness today.  There is not time for our own thought, or for the opportunity for the music to lead to internal prayer, healing, or private revelation.

There is so much fear of the silence, for priests and laity alike.

Often I attend Masses where there is little, to no time for reflection – whether there is a lack of pauses, or an overuse of music. There is always music for communion, or the offertory, and the music must play or be sung to the very end – until the priest is ready for the final blessing. Always noise, always activity. 

The Second Vatican Council encouraged ‘active participation’ – meaning being aware, being in prayer, participating when required - but this was approached by the world to mean always ‘doing’. What was intended was for people to actively pray, as members of the baptised priesthood of the Church. Prayer is dialogue with God. More speaking and singing among the congregation has not necessarily encouraged this dialogue, but drawn people further away from their calling.

Polyphony and Gregorian chant has been encouraged throughout the centuries for the liturgy because it did not hinder but assist in leading the people to this interior dialogue and silence. 

“Gregorian chant is not contrary to silence. It is issued from it and leads to it. I would even say that it is as though woven of silence.” – Cardinal Sarah

Liturgical music should therefore crescendo from silence and finish into silence, so we may actively participate in prayer. The music does not need to fill the space where silence belongs.

This Lent, consider how we can provide space and time for silence in our liturgies, our churches and our lives. 

As Christ withdrew to the desert and the Garden of Gethsemane, can we withdraw the noise of our liturgies for deeper prayer and communion with the Lord through His Passion in the Mass?

Let us not fear the silence when the music fades during the liturgy to give space for the Lord to call on us, to reach us, and to convert our souls.

“Silence… lets the unspeakable become song and also calls on the voices of the cosmos for help so that the unspoken may become audible. This means that church music, coming from the Word and the silence perceived in it, always presupposes a new listening to the whole richness of the Logos.” – Pope Benedict XVI (A New Song for the Lord)