The Unseen Presence of Frederick Chopin

I have promised a few thoughts on the need for silence in our meetings and I will produce them in a day or two. In the meantime, I thought we would better understand the need for silence if we first considered the idea of the unseen Presence promised us by Jesus (Matthew 18:20). My first thought was of how Emily Dickinson’s deep sense of things included the unseen Presence. Before turning to my thoughts on silence, I also want to tell you about a deep and soulful ritual celebrated in Poland every week at the birthplace of Frederick Chopin.

I once enjoyed a documentary by Bryon Janis that traced the composer’s life. As his film begins, we hear a sad and melencholy piece being played on a grand piano. A performer is seen in silhouette only. The narrative voice informs viewers that every Sunday a recital is given in this house. The unnamed performer remains unseen as the music drifts out the open doors and windows of the home. The camera takes the viewer along one such path and out into the surrounding park. An audience has gathered here and they are listening with rapt attention. Several have close their eyes, disembodying the music even further. It is a moment of transcendent biography. Here we sit on the grass, outside the birthplace of the great man, his melodic and soulful music pouring out the open windows and doors of his birthplace. This place and the unseen presence of the musician, who is after all only an actor playing Chopin, highlight the question: What was really born into the world on March 1, 1810? The question will loom large in our own souls, but only if we are truly listening.