Sermon for 5 March 2000, 6.30pm, St Mary Magdalen, Sheet, published on www.trikeshed.com

1 Kings 19:1-16, 2 Peter 1:16-21

This evening I want to talk about voices. We live in the age of the image – books, television, adverts. I might be biased, having worked all my career in television – with the sound turned off. Even the Internet is basically a visual medium, with sound as an optional extra. But this evening I would like us to focus (whoops, there I go again, I mean tune our ears) to the theme of listening to God’s voice. It’s very fitting that we should do this tonight, as we have the opportunity after the service to pray with Liz [Beth Woodgate] as she takes her calling to full-time ministry to the next stage and prepares to have it put to the test – that word "calling" being the key word of course.

Have you ever read the Old Testament and been envious of the way the characters just hear God’s voice? God said – the word of the Lord came – God commanded. If people nowadays talk in such a frank way about God’s voice we tend to think they’re a bit cranky. I don’t think we actually hear God’s voice any less now than then, but there are many reasons why we might not actually say so – and we could spend another evening looking at those reasons. But there is something special about today’s reading. Elijah is guided by God through a difficult time. He hears God’s voice as he has done many times before, but this time the way God spoke to Elijah is at the centre of the story.

Elijah was fleeing to the desert. We just need to remind ourselves why.

To avoid a long preamble, I’ll give you a 50-word context for this story.

So Elijah was gloating over a huge success story? Unfortunately not. That spectacular demonstration of God’s power had not been enough to turn the people round. That Jezebel still had the upper hand. Elijah was afraid for his life.

But he was also in deep depression. He had run out of steam, felt he had failed, went out into the desert and prayed to die.

And once again we read of God’s wonderful provision for this man. Ministering angels brought him food and drink. His immediate needs were met. But of course he needed more than food and drink. It was an appropriate place to be, by the way. He had come to the Sinai desert, spending forty days where his ancestors had spent forty years, and where the Lord had spoken to Moses through storms, and fire, and an earthquake. Is this what God would do again?

Almost as if to jolt Elijah out of his depression, there came a powerful wind, an earthquake, then a fire. Yes! Those great signs of God’s majesty and power! A wonderful reminder to Elijah of who is really on top. "Thank you Lord, now I’ll go back and give hell to Jezebel and her false prophets."

But no. What is so strange about this story is that we’re told very specifically that the Lord was not in the wind. And he was not in the earthquake. And he was not in the fire. He was heard instead in a still small voice, or a gentle whisper, or perhaps most literally and poetically "the sound of gentle quietness". Not a sound I often hear, I have to admit. That is how God chose to speak to Elijah, really talk to him, on this occasion.

And it all fits into place. Of course. The last thing Elijah needed was more fireworks and spectacular demonstrations of supremacy. The whole thing has an uncanny echo in the story of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness, where he was tempted to use spectacle and pzazz to further his kingdom, but instead chose a gentler way. By the way, it’s not that Elijah heard a still small message. What God had to say was extremely hard-hitting. Just as the gentle way Jesus chose was no cop-out, but led to great suffering.

God knew what it was Elijah needed and communicated to him in just the right way. We try to do this ourselves, actually; we try to tell people what they need to hear in a way that will best get the message across. All too often we end up telling people what they want to hear in a way that will cause us the least discomfort. But God’s voice speaks in a way that will get across to us and tells us what we need to hear at the time we need to hear it.

Before Jesus’ time in the wilderness, he is baptised and a voice comes from heaven – this is my beloved Son – listen to him. There is God’s word packaged in a way that will reach us – all we have to do is listen to Jesus. I hope that at this stage in our journey we know how important it is to listen to Jesus. That in prayer, the list of things is not as important as listening. But perhaps we feel guilty, or simply cannot see how we can devote the time and space to listen to Jesus. In an average family it’s hard enough to put two sentences together to make a conversation, so what chance have we of listening to Jesus? I think we have in our minds the idea that if we’re to have the same depth of contact with God as Elijah did, then we have at least to go up Harting Down for a few hours even if we can’t manage forty days in the Sinai desert.

But we might be missing the point. The thing is that Elijah was driven by despair. He didn’t in fact "go out into the desert to pray". He was on the run, as much from himself as from Jezebel. He was even teased by God about it – what are you doing here, Elijah?

The only thing he needed was not to be closed to God’s voice. That’s all. At least he was ready to hear God’s voice even if he wasn’t actively tuned into the right channel. As we enter the season of Lent this week, let’s take this thought with us. The more actively we listen for God’s voice the better, but unless we actually cover our ears or consciously drown his voice, he will get through But keep those ears trained – it might just be the sound of gentle silence, and it will shake your life more powerfully than any earthquake:

© Mike Knee, 2000

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