The Still, Small Voice

Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the 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 still small voice. I Kings 19:11-12 (NKJV)

September 11th was the first truly significant event which occurred in my memory. I had just entered high school, and our teacher ushered us into another classroom with other students to talk about what had just happened in New York City. In the days, weeks and months that followed, we, and everyone else, at least in North America, would witness, again and again, the fall of the towers until those images were imprinted forever in our memories. The turbulence, anxiety and fear and hatred, as well as solidarity and concern which that day led to ushered in a world that would never be the same. For those who lost loved ones that day, their own lives would never be the same. A day that dawned with quiet normalcy would end with such tragic explosiveness that peace and quietude would seem out of reach, seemingly forever.

The prophet Elijah also faced a time of turmoil, both personally and in Israel at the time. Having led a dramatic display before the prophets of Baal which ended in violence, there is now a price on his head. He flees into the wilderness and wonders aloud to God about how he would continue to live at all. After giving him food and rest, God leads Elijah unto the mountain, a place where, throughout Scripture, people often meet God. God speaks to him there, but not in a way that he expects. Given what had happened in his life and in Israel, he probably expected, or even wanted God to enter in an explosive way, to deal with the idolatry and corruption and injustice and the attacks against himself.

However, God surprises him. As Elijah stands before the Lord on the mountain, there is a great wind, an earthquake and a fire.  Yet, God is not in any of them. They create chaos, tearing rocks into pieces, shaking up the mountain and lighting it aflame. Yet, it is when they all pass that God speaks, not with great shouts or noise, but in a still, small voice.  Somehow, more than anything that had come before, this voice gets Elijah’s attention and penetrates to the deepest part of his identity and vocation as a prophet of Israel.

The world around us can often feel loud, scary, divisive or even explosive, not unlike a mountain torn by a great wind, earthquake or fire. The recent school shooting in Georgia was tragic and heartbreaking and had shaken, once again, our and our children’s ability to feel safe where safety is most needed. The election season has heightened polarization and the temptation to demonize the other side. Ongoing violence and atrocities around the world and in our country remind us just how far we are from God’s world of redemption, justice, mercy and love.

Yet, Elijah’s story, of God’s still, small voice penetrating into the chaos, noise and explosions around him shows that our Lord is still able to speak, even into our own chaos. When a catastrophe occurs, such as September 11th and in a different way, the Covid pandemic, we are brought face to face with our own vulnerability in the midst of the collapse of what we hold to be dear or consider normal.  Yet, both in catastrophe and the more mundane and everyday ways in which we can feel surrounded by wind, earthquake and fire, the Holy Spirit can still speak into the very midst of our chaos with a voice that is quiet and yet powerful.  In the stillness of being present, of listening to the Lord, we can hear that voice and be brought back to our identity as God’s beloved and our call to the proclamation of the Gospel and the work of bringing about shalom in the world.

Love and blessings,

Pastor Julia