1
Copyright 2007 – The Anglican Parish of Stephen & St Mary, Mt Waverley
Not to be copied or republished without written permission
http://www.stephenandmary.org.au
Pentecost 4C, 24th June, 2007
1 Kings 19: 1-4, 8-15a
The Sound of Sheer Silence
Robyn Boyd
God’s Stories
I want to take you on a journey today, walking with the prophet Elijah towards something
which for him was life changing, something which revealed God to him in a new and
different way. Whether these events actually happened, or happened in this sequence or
this exact detail, as in an historical account, is in the end, irrelevant. Starting as oral
tradition, spoken from generation to generation, this story and others from those times are
told until, in the end, a story is woven and eventually written. The story now carries the
intent and meaning and the bones, if not all the flesh and clothing, of an original story.
Parts of an ancient story such as this might be symbolic – perhaps stretching the
fragments of an earlier story to explain or tell us something particular about God; or they
might be exaggerated to make a point or might take on mythological elements as the
compiler draws attention to the resonances and parallels with other great stories of faith.
And so we receive these stories, now in holy Canon, handed down to us over thousands
of years, and we find in them new things of God opening up, and encouragement in our
walk in faith. As we hear this story today, we see and hear our own stories, and the
stories of people we care about where their stories join ours. And we listen for how God
meets us in this story.
Elijah
Elijah was in trouble – serious trouble. From an all time high, flushed with success and
victory, he was suddenly catapulted into insecurity and threat. He’d been turning out to
be one of the greatest prophets – perhaps the greatest figure of faith since Moses. This
was a time when God’s people were turning to worship pagan Gods under the influence
of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, and where the prophets of the Hebrew God were being
persecuted and killed. But the prophet Elijah was fearless in his condemnation and
challenging of all that was against the one true God. The provisions of God for him, and
the spectacular miracles performed under his hand for the one true God of Israel were
legendary: ravens feeding him in the wilderness, a never-emptying jar of meal and jug of
oil for the widow of Zaraphaph, the raising to life of her dead son. And in what was his
most supreme challenge to the Baal-worshipping King and Queen, in a contest of strength
with the prophets of Baal, he called down fire on the sacrificial altar before killing all 450
of these prophets
At the defeat and slaughter of her favoured prophets of Baal, Jezebel was furious.
Incensed. Where we meet up with her and Elijah today in our reading, Elijah has just
received word that she’s coming after him to kill him. What does this great, triumphant
2
man of God do? This man who only days before declared the power of the Lord as
greater than the king, greater than the god Baal? He turns tail and runs; overwhelmed
with fear of the threat from Jezebel; humiliated by his terror at the anger of a godless
woman. And even more than this, he appears to be exhausted and in despair. His
boundless energy and undoubtable faith seem to dissipate and turn into depression and an
overwhelming sense of failure. He retreats further, feeling that life is nothing for him.
There are no hints that he’s fallen from God’s favour; nothing to suggest that he’s gone
against God. But here he is, miserable and abject. Depressed. He pleads with God to take
his life.
In his flight from Jezebel and from his life, he moves to return to the most holy place of
Israel, to the original place where God revealed himself to Moses: Horeb or Mt Sinai, the
place where Moses met God with a burning bush, the place where the ten commandments
were given, and where God’s covenant was made with Israel. This is a pilgrimage of
despair mingled with hope. It doesn’t seem like this is a planned movement; it seems
more instinctual, driven by his brokenness, his doubt about his calling and a longing for
God’s presence.
What happens? On the way, God’s angel feeds him, encourages him to eat and sleep and
gain strength for the journey. Forty days and nights later (that symbolic number), Elijah
arrives at the mountain.
Let’s stop for a moment and reflect; catch where your story might meet with Elijah’s:
here we have a man, a person who has been caught up in the heart of undoubted service
to God, trying his best at doing his work, and with no question about his faith here; and
whilst all has been well, an obstacle, a turn of events, a threat to his security, throws him
into an unexpected state of doubt, uncertainty and depression. The strength and
resilience he has known before seems to just disappear, evaporate into thin air.
Instinctively, he moves towards God. In this part of his story he is he is nourished by
those whom God sends to care for him. But his melancholy remains, and with
providential care sustaining him, he presses on to meet God.
Now here he is on the mountain, expecting to meet God. And God’s there, just as he has
been along the way: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”, God asks. Elijah pours out his
bitter disappointment and woes. And here’s where the extraordinary happens. “Watch for
me” says God, in response. As we read “there was a great wind, so strong that it was
splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not
in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake;
and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a
sound of sheer silence.”.
The sound of sheer silence, or as some translations have it, the sound of low murmuring,
a still, small voice. There is something so commanding in this silence that there can be no
doubt of God’s presence. Nature’s most powerful elements are rendered as nothing in
comparison; internal turmoil is quieted in this stillness. Elijah covers his face: a mark of
recognition and acquiescence: for, as was told to Moses, no-one can look upon the face
3
of the Lord and live. Here on this mountain, where God previously had made himself
known in fiery, spectacular ways, God is being known in this sheer silence; the still,
small voice of God being experienced by a man whose work for God has been loud and
spectacular and fiery. God brings Elijah – and us - fresh and startling news: breaking
through the intensity and clamour of internal anguish, the power of God is found in the
whispering, murmuring quiet. Elijah leaves the mountain, to continue his calling as
prophet in a new way: less spectacular, with success taking longer and evolving in
quieter, more gradual ways.
Our Stories
Where does your story meet with Elijah’s? Hold onto what is resonating with you – we’ll
have some moments silence now, before I move on to finish, to allow that to speak to
you.
When the going’s tough, it can be difficult to see God drawing us to meeting him afresh,
and to recognising his angels sustaining and strengthening us along the way. We long for
the unmistakeable presence of God with us and we look for that, and we look for his
direction for our lives, hoping that it comes to us so clearly that we can’t mistake it. But
the still, small voice of God, speaking to us of a new way of being, can be drowned out
by the deafening roar of our life’s trials, and can be obscured by the busy-ness we create
to avoid the pain we fear might come through being still.
I’m challenged to want to reassure you, to say that the still, small voice of God is there, is
real, and is speaking in the sheer silence under whatever those struggles are. To say,
don’t be afraid of the silence or of being still: even though the pain may surface, God is
there. There is peace behind the turmoil.
We mightn’t be great and fiery prophets, used to spectacular signs and manifestations of
God. But we are people of God, doing our best to serve him in whatever walks of life he
has drawn us into. And where we struggle, and where we descend into heaviness of heart
and spirit for whatever reason, God is still present. Underneath the winds and
earthquakes and fires of life, this loving murmuring of God is ever present – moving us
into his absolute stillness, the sound of sheer silence where our spirits and minds are
quietened, where we can experience him unmistakably, and we are sent forward once
again to live the life he has for us.
4
For Sermon Discussion Evening; Tuesday June 26th . (7.30 for 7.45pm)
This evening of conversation is a good opportunity for us to dig into the ideas and issues
and questions that the sermon has raised for us. We can also explore the text being
preached on. I can also share some insights into why I went this way with the reading;
what I discarded and didn’t develop.
Here are some questions, for your own thinking and exploring before then (there’ll be no
expectation for people to share their responses).
1. (Broad picture) How does the thought of stories from Scripture not necessarily
being exact historical narratives affect you? Does it disturb your faith, or enrich
it?
2. Read the passage (including the verses the lectionary takes out – ie, all of 1 Kings
19: 1- 15; and the chapter before and the continuing story after, if you want to dig
further). What questions do you have?
3. Take note of how this story is told in such a way that we are caused to think of
Moses (see Exodus 3-4; Ex 32:22; Ex 33:17-34:8; Ex 34:28. Take note, too, of
how Jesus’ time in the wilderness centuries later echoes Elijah’s.)
4. What are your observations about Elijah?
5. What has your experience of God taught you about his presence?
6. How has this story touched your life?