Thunder in the Mountains

Silence in the Soul

1 Kings 19:9-14

Voices. There are many of them around us, encouraging voices, discouraging voices, happy voices, sad voices. There are the voices calling upon us to buy certain products that will supposedly make us happy or comfortable or rich. There are voices of political leaders asking for our vote, voices of scientists warning us about everything from ozone depletion to eating apples laced with pesticides, voices of newscasters on CNN, NBC, CBS, ABC, WJR, WWJ, and many, many more. And then there are our own voices: The voices we hear coming from ourselves crying out to be noticed and loved and nurtured. And then there are the voices of the entertainers, the rock stars, each trying to get us to forget all the other voices. But, somewhere, in the midst of it all, there is the voice of God.

And we've heard that voice, from time to time. Sometimes it has sounded like a mighty wind. Sometimes it has sounded like an earthquake. And sometimes it has burned in our hearts like a fire. But, more often than not, God's voice speaks softly, like a still small voice. The voice may have spoken to us through a sermon preached by a beloved preacher. Or, it may have come to us as we bowed our head in prayer, or read our bible, or walked down the street, or drove our car. And we may have been surprised to hear God talking to us in that still small voice, especially in this world where loud voices get all of the attention.

Some of us may remember the wonderful story of Elijah. Perhaps one of the most renowned stories of his work as a prophet is the one in 1 Kings 18 where he confronted the prophets of the Canaanite god, Ba-al. No doubt you have heard this story about how Elijah challenges these false prophets to a contest to see whose god is stronger. If their god, Ba-al, is able to send fire from heaven to light a pile of wood lying upon an ancient altar, then everyone will know that Ba-al is God. But, if Elijah can get the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob to send down fire from heaven then everyone will know that the LORD is God.

And, of course, you know how the story went. The prophets of Ba-al took Elijah's challenge and began to call upon Ba-al to light their fire. And they called and called for half a day, to no avail. The god, Ba-al, didn't answer. And then Elijah, after having the pile of wood doused with water, called upon the LORD God and immediately the wood caught fire and even burned the water that had run into the drainage trenches around the altar. And the people were so amazed at what had happened that they obeyed Elijah's command to destroy all the prophets of Ba-al.

But, despite this great victory for Elijah, he knew that this would anger King Ahab and the evil Queen Jezebel. And, so, fearing for his life, and feeling like a failure even in the midst of this incredible triumph, Elijah was forced to make a hasty retreat into the mountains. And in our scripture lesson for today, this is where we find Elijah: at Mount Horeb, a place called the Mountain of God. And there he went into a cave and spent the night."

In classic, Freudian psychoanalysis, caves or caverns typically symbolize the hidden depth of the unconscious mind. Elijah's retreat into such a dark crevice on Mt. Horeb and his unique encounter there with God is an image that might be more useful to us today than at any other time. Never before have human beings been so constantly bombarded by the demands of the world. And never before have more persons been out trying to find a cave to find refuge in.

In our frustration, anger, and fear about life, we try to find God in the spectacular. Elijah looked for God in the earthquake, but God was not there. Elijah then looked for God in the fire. But God was not there. Elijah looked for God in the thunder. But God was not there. It was only when Elijah was able to get beyond the noise and the anger and the spectacular that he finally was able to hear the quiet whisper of God. And, so it is with us. When we get beyond the thunder, the noise, and the racket around us; when we can quiet ourselves, and collect ourselves, it is then that we can hear the quiet whisper of God, speaking to us and soothing us.

One of the greatest fallacies, one of the most difficult notions to get beyond, today, is the idea that if it is big, and noisy, and flashy, then it is good and right. But, that is not always so. Yes, we do have the Cecil Demill stories and events that we always concentrate on. But, then, there is this Elijah story, and the other stories: The stories of John the Baptist and Jesus going off alone to seek silence, the stories of the mystics and saints of the Christian faith such as Theresa, St. John of the Cross, St. Anthony, Martin Luther, John Wesley and the Circuit Riders.

Some of the most earthshaking changes that have happened in the world have been those things that have happened through quietness, rather than noisy and spectacular occurrences. For instance, when Gandhi was wrestling with the question of what would be the best way to challenge a tax that the British were forcing the people of India to pay for salt and a law which forbade the people to collect salt from salt water in brine pools along the ocean, he went into seclusion for many weeks. After many, many days of quiet reflection and prayer, the strategic answer finally came. He set off across India, walking toward the ocean to get some salt. News of his pilgrimage spread, and his journey was widely reported. After many days, he finally reached the shore, stooped down, picked up a single handful of salt, and as millions of people followed his example, the British empire and its salt laws were sent reeling.

We can all think of many more such changes that have happened before our eyes -- the downfall of the Soviet Empire, being just one classic example. Without one nuclear bomb going off, without millions of citizens going to war against one another, the Communist governments of the world have fallen, one by one. And, yet, oddly, we still look for the earthquakes, and the fires as signs of God's power in our lives. This past week, with all of the thunder storms, we marveled at the thunder and the lightning. But it seems that we don't marvel enough at the gentle breezes God sends to us everyday. And, you know, we just can't live without those gentle breezes.

Elijah needed the still, quiet voice of God. Without it he could not have gone on to do the ministry that God called him to do. He would not have had the strength. We cannot do those things that God calls us to do if we do not hear this quiet voice, as well. We cannot be sustained, running after thunder, earthquakes, and fires in our lives. They come few and far between.

There is a story of a Michigan farmer who was visiting his old college roommate in New York City. Walking near Times Square one day, the farmer suddenly remarked to his old friend, "I hear a cricket."

"You're crazy," his city friend replied. "It's the noon rush hour, and in all of this traffic noise you heard a cricket? C'mon, man!"

"No, I did hear a cricket," the visitor insisted. Focusing more intently, he walked to the corner, crossed the busy avenue and looked all around. Finally he approached a shrub in a large cement planter. Digging beneath the mulch, he found his cricket.

His friend couldn't believe what he had seen. But the friend from the farm said, "My ears are no different from yours. It simply depends on what you have learned to listen for. Here, let me show you."

He then reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a few pennies, and dropped them onto the sidewalk. At the sound of the change hitting the pavement, every head along the crowded block turned.

"You see what I mean?" the visitor said, as he picked up the pennies. "It all depends on what you are listening for."

The voice of God is speaking to us, today. It may not be in obvious, shrill tones that can be heard above the other voices of our lives. Rather, it may be a voice that is heard somewhere in the mix of it all: the still, small voice of God.

Amen.