The True Story Behind the Text of “Even When He Is Silent”

Image accessed via website humanistseminarian.com; no attribution given

Who wrote the text of “Even When He Is Silent” and under what circumstances? Do these questions matter?

I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining.
I believe in love when I feel it not
I believe in God even when he is silent.

Found written on a concentration camp wall after World War II

That’s the text used in the lovely piece that my own choir, the Cherry Creek Chorale, is performing/has performed in October 2022, a setting written in 2011 by the Norwegian composer Kim André Arnesen. Given my own fascination with history I was curious to find out a little bit more about these words: Which concentration camp? Who might have written them? My internet diving turned up some surprising facts about the lines, facts that only deepened and strengthened their power.

But first I’d better address the other point I posed above: “Do these questions matter?” And here I’m going to quote from an excellent set of blog posts that I ran across in my research:

The Holocaust is serious business. This is not an area where it is good to blur the boundaries between what it is true and what is false. There are still groups of people who would like us to believe that the entire Holocaust is fiction; and there are other people who would like to try to pass off false stories as true. Out of respect for the millions who died, we should be scrupulous about the truth. (“I Believe in the Sun, Part IV: Conclusion”)

The blogger, a Unitarian Universalist minister named Everett Howe, went on quite an investigative journey to find out exactly where the words came from. In the end, he did find a primary source that seems to be the original. Along the way he ran into a number of alternate ideas for the inscription’s location: the unnamed concentration camp idea as above, the Warsaw Ghetto, a cave, or a cellar in Cologne. That last one turned out to be correct, and I was pleased to note that Arnesen’s website now lists Cologne as the place where the quotation was found, scratched on a wall.

Here’s the original story:

Catholic Scouts had discovered underground passageways which had been unused for many years under old buildings, and these could now serve as refuges from the Gestapo. At one point, nine Jewish fugitives hid here for four months without ever being caught.

 When I visited the shelter, I had the opportunity to see the emergency housing, fully equipped with a kitchen, bedroom, living room, radio, a small library, and oil lamps — evidence of a stunning experience. Meals could only be prepared at night so as not to attract the Gestapo’s attention, who would have noticed the smoke during the day. Food had to be supplied by friends who willingly gave up a portion of their rations to help those unfortunate people living for weeks in utter darkness. The following inscription is written on the wall of one of these underground rooms, which in some ways resemble the Roman catacombs: “I believe in the sun, though it be dark; I believe in God, though He be silent; I believe in neighborly love, though it be unable to reveal itself.” (trans. of original article published June 26, 1945 in the Swiss newspaper Neue Zürcher Nachrichten by an unnamed reporter writing from Cologne.)

Now the story has become specific, with details that add to its drama and poignancy. Note that the order of the lines is different from what is used in the Arnesen piece; other settings follow the same pattern. Choirs will, of course, perform the music as written. By this point no one “owns” the inscription, and it’s being used in perfect good faith. But consider how the meaning is altered by the different version, both in the line order and also in the wording itself. Here are the original lines, pulled out so that we can examine them more easily:

I believe in the sun, though it be dark;
I believe in God, though He be silent;
I believe in neighborly love, though it be unable to reveal itself.

As Howe points out, the sun can be shining even if the speaker is in the dark, A small quibble, perhaps, but significant. The sun hasn’t gone away; it’s still there, somewhere, and will still be there when the speaker emerges. The idea of God is now in the middle line, so it doesn’t have the same lingering impact as when it’s the final thought. The speaker can’t see the sun, and he can’t hear God’s voice. He still hangs onto those items of faith, though, along with, and perhaps because of, his trust in the love and compassion being shown to him in secret. The phrasing “neighborly love” references the Hebrew Bible command echoed in the Christian New Testament: “thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” We’re assuming that the inscription was written by one of the nine Jewish fugitives mentioned in the newspaper article and that the neighborly love has been shown by the “Catholic Scouts” who had originally discovered the underground passages. Are they the “friends” who gave up some of their rations for the fugitives?  Probably so. I’d love to read the entire article, but alas! It’s in German. I’ll have to leave it there.

Howe comes up with his own loosely-translated version:

I believe in the sun, even in the darkness.
I believe in God, even if God is silent.
I believe in compassion, even when it must remain hidden.

Here are two performance videos of the piece. The first is the Arnesen verson from 2011, commissioned by the St. Olaf Festival. Its first public performance coincided eerily, and tragically, with the terrorist attacks in Oslo and Utøya in July of that year:

And here’s a much-lesser-known version which was commissioned from Michael Horvit to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Kristallnacht, the attacks on Jews throughout Germany in 1938 that kicked anti-Semitic violence into high gear and is seen by many as the start of the Holocaust:

I would strongly recommend that you read all five of Everett Howe’s blog posts about his search for the meaning and background of these three lines. They are fascinating and well written. He indeed practices what he preaches: “Always cite your sources.”

I Believe in the Sun, Part I: Look Away” (includes yet a third performance video)
I Believe in the Sun, Part II: The Friend
I Believe in the Sun, Part III: The Secrets of Tigers
I Believe in the Sun, Part IV: Conclusion
I Believe in the Sun, Part V: The Source

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