Worship in the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) is silent: No
minister, readings or music to intervene between those in attendance and
the divine.  For many neophytes (and certainly for most of us as children)
this is profoundly confusing.  Even experienced Friends know that there
will be periods of distraction and unwanted focus on the sounds around
them: coughing, sighing, traffic, stomach grumbles.

Friends' practice of worship seems to me to apply to consideration of
Cage's piece.  There is an understanding of a collective responsibility
for the success of the Meeting.  Prayer is not a performance we attend but,
rather, a creative act in which we participate.  In other words, attenders
must work together to create what is called a "gathering silence." They
seek to "center" themselves in order to be open to divine inspiration.
Frequently this silence becomes a palpable presence in the room.

In this manner the group awaits the "still, small voice" of inspiration.
Periodically a participant will be called to speak: "spoken ministry" in
the lexicon of early Friends for whom this was not expected to be a routine
occurance.  (Indeed the name Quaker is said to have originated in the
trembling which often preceded a Friend rising to speak.) In a sense one
might almost consider this the introduction of the solo instrument in a
concerto.  As in a concerto, the solo voice "makes sense" only in the
context of what surrounds it.

So, which is more important or profound, sound or silence? Friends' Meeting
poses this question as does Cage's 4'33.

Ed