God in the Silence

“God in the Silence”

Scripture: 1 Kings 19:1-16; John 6:60-71

For those of you who love Shakespeare you will be familiar with these words of Macbeth in the play of the same name: “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” In our day and age, it is so easy to become discouraged and disillusioned with life. Let’s be honest – every day we confront this discouragement. We see it on the newscasts. We hear it from our politicians, how everything is broken. The toxic political discourse and negativity is hard to listen to. I must confess, there are days when I just need to shut it down – to turn off the news and take a break from social media. I’m guessing most of you have felt the same way. It is easy to become discouraged.

There is an old parable about the devil. A rumour was going around that the devil was going out of business. He was selling his tools to whoever wanted them. One night he opened his doors and showcased all his tools for sale: hate, jealousy, fear, deceit and many more. But tucked away in a corner was an old, worn-out harmless object. It wasn’t nearly as attractive as the others, but it had the highest price tag. Someone asked the devil what the instrument was and why it was so expensive. “Oh, that is discouragement,” replied the devil. “It is the most expensive tool because I use it most often on people. When nothing else works, I slowly enter their minds and hearts with this tool. When people get discouraged, they lose hope. That’s when I am most effective.”

Well, who among us has not been discouraged at one time or another? And one of the most discouraging things for Christians is when God appears to be silent – when our prayers are unanswered and our hopes are dashed. I was at a preaching conference last year and one of the speakers said something I thought was quite profound. He said that a pastor’s task is to speak into the silence. We address the question: Does God have a word for us in the silence of despair? And if you have never experienced the silence, be patient. You can be sure that one day you will.

There is a movie from a generation ago called The Shawshank Redemption. It consistently is rated in the top ten movies of all time. In the story, the main character Andy is serving a life sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. In one scene he locks himself in the warden’s office and plays Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro over the prison PA system. For a few moments it plays in the prison yard speakers and mesmerizes the inmates. For his transgression, Andy is given two weeks in solitary confinement. On his first day out of the hole, he talks with his friends in the mess hall. “Was it worth it?” they ask. “Piece of cake,” he says. “I had Mr. Mozart down there with me.” “You mean they let you take the record player down there?” an inmate asks. “No,” says Andy. “I had him in here” and points to his head “and here” as he points to his heart. “They can’t take that from you. There is something inside of you that they can’t touch, that’s yours.” His friend Red asks: “What are you talking about?” Andy replies: “Hope. I’m talking about hope.” This, of course, is what preachers try to accomplish. We try to preach hope, to remind people that God understands. To offer a word that enters our despair and offers hope.

I think we struggle most with the silences of life, especially the silence of God. In our noisy and chaotic world, many of us are not comfortable with silence. We don’t know what to do with it. I remember years ago my wife Donna attended a women’s silent retreat at a Catholic centre when we lived in Montreal. At the time, I was tempted to make a joke about how a women’s silent retreat was an oxymoron. But I thought better of it. But she found the retreat very moving and meaningful. You learn that you can communicate without words. And you learn to appreciate the silence.

Frederick Buechner was an American author and Presbyterian minister. He is one of my favourite authors, and just passed away two years ago in his mid-nineties. In his memoir, he talks about his daughter’s struggle with anorexia. Although she eventually recovered, it was a dark time for Buechner because he felt so helpless. He was unable to help his daughter, no matter how hard he tried to fix her. He writes this in his memoir: “I remember sitting parked by the roadside once, terribly depressed and afraid about my daughter’s illness and what was going on in our family, when out of nowhere a car came along down the highway with a license plate that bore on it the one word out of all the words in the dictionary that I needed to see exactly then. The word was TRUST. What do you call a moment like that?  Something to laugh off as the kind of joke life plays on us every once in a while? The Word of God? I am willing to believe that maybe it was something of both, but for me it was an epiphany. The owner of the car turned out to be, as I suspected, a trust officer in a bank, and not long ago, having read an account I wrote of the incident somewhere, he found out where I lived and one afternoon brought me the license plate itself, which sits propped up on a bookshelf in my house to this day. It is rusty around the edges and little battered, and it is also as holy a relic as I have ever seen.”

I think God has a sense of humour. And maybe this is the way he really speaks to us. Not in the big, miraculous events or burning bushes. But rather, he speaks in the small things. Like in “God stories,” which my home church offer during each worship service. People share how they have seen God at work that week. And it is usually in small ways, like Buechner’s license plate.

Today I want to consider a biblical story about discouragement and dealing with silences. It involves the greatest prophet in Israel’s history, the prophet Elijah, in 1 Kings 19. In the previous chapter, the prophet wins a great victory over the prophets of Baal, a pagan god. He challenges then to a duel – a sacrificial duel. Both the pagan priests and Elijah offer a sacrifice to their God. The priests of Baal spend the whole day petitioning their god, but nothing happens. Then it is Elijah’s turn. He even orders his sacrifice to be drowned in water to make it more dramatic. And when he prays, his sacrifice is devoured by fire from the heavens. The prophets of Baal are routed and have to flee. But this doesn’t go well with King Ahab and his wife Jezebel, who are followers of Baal. A contract is put on the head of Elijah, and he has to run for his life. He runs for 40 days. It’s interesting that 40 days is a significant number in the Bible. It rained 40 days at the flood. The Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years. Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness. Elijah finds himself in a similar wilderness trying to make sense of his life.

He comes to a cave and stays there. He literally wants to die, and asks God to take his life. He is so discouraged and depressed. But God speaks a word to him. It’s a question: “What are you doing here, Elijah?” I once heard a sermon preached on this one verse. Each point was a different emphasis on the question. What are you doing here? What are you doing here? What are you doing here? What are you doing here? You can see how the question takes on different meanings depending on which word you emphasize. Eventually he leaves the cave, and starts to move on from his self-pity. And that is when God speaks. He speaks in the silence of a still, small voice. This encounter in the wilderness is a major turning point in the life of Elijah.

Today I want to compare this passage with a New Testament one. Jesus’ followers also knew the challenge of following Jesus and staying faithful to him. In John 6, we have a story very similar to Elijah’s. The disciples are on a high after the miracle where Jesus feeds the five thousand on the hillside. But then he begins to offer some difficult teachings. Many fall away and leave. “Do you also want to leave?” Jesus asks the twelve. And Peter offers what amounts to a second confession of faith: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

Let me offer a few insights from Elijah’s experience as well as the apostle Peter, both great leaders of the faith. Here are some things I believe they learned:

1)First, we all find ourselves in the cave of discouragement at times. Verse 4: “But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die, ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.’” Have you ever felt like Elijah did in this story? You’ve hit a wall, and feel that you just cannot go on.

For most of us, there are times when we feel disappointed by God. We’ve done everything the right way, and still we struggle with outcomes we would not choose. We might attend church every Sunday. We look after our bodies. We extend kindness to others. We have tried to live God-honouring lives. And yet we have experienced stress, health issues, financial pressures, family problems. We just don’t feel blessed. And in some cases, we feel that God has forgotten us. Years ago Philip Yancey wrote a book called Disappointment With God. I have always loved this quote from his book: “The Bible never belittles disappointment, but it does add one key word: temporary. What we feel now, we will not always feel. Our disappointment is itself a sign, an aching, a hunger for something better. And faith is, in the end, a kind of homesickness — for a home we have never visited but have never once stopped longing for.”

The great Baptist preacher Charles Spurgeon put it this way: “God is too good to be unkind and he is too wise to be mistaken. And when we cannot trace his hand, we must trust his heart.” Elijah knew the disappointment that comes to us all. But he was not afraid to pour out his pain and suffering to the One who was faithful in all things.

2) Second, God is found in the silences of life. Verses 11-12: “He said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Now 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.” It appears that God spoke in the silence.

The Hebrew word used in this verse can be translated as “a still small voice,” “a gentle whisper,” or “the daughter of a sound.” This is not how God usually communicates with us, or perhaps this is not how we come to expect God’s voice. We look for him in the big stuff, in the miracles and dramatic encounters. But instead we often simply get the painful silence of God. It is not our preferred method of communication with the Almighty. Yet in it, if we have ears to hear, there is much grace. With Elijah, it’s as if God is saying: “Get ready, because the Lord is about to do something amazing, if you can bear the silence long enough to understand it.”

God was about to do a new thing in the prophet’s life. He could not go back to the past and glory in his achievements, nor could he wallow in self-pity. He needed to be attentive to the still, small voice of the Almighty. Can we hear the same voice today – the gentle whisper, or the daughter of a sound?

3) Third, God gives Elijah a new purpose and challenge. Verses 15-16: “Then the Lord said to him, ‘Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel, and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.’”

Notice it is only after the silence that Elijah finally gets up and moving. God enters the fractured heart of the prophet. When God himself becomes the silence, then Elijah gets it. He sees that God understands and wants to help him. He doesn’t need the earthquake shaking, or the wind howling, or the fire burning. He simply needs to know he is loved, that he is held by God who picks up the broken pieces of his life in the silence. And the grace of God becomes the glue.

I find it interesting that the first thing Elijah does after his spirit is renewed is to find Elisha. He throws his mantle around him and becomes his mentor. He begins to invest his life in this younger prophet who will succeed him. God brings Elijah out of the cave of discouragement and gives him new purpose. He is then able to leave the past and move forward into God’s glorious future. Notice also that God recognizes Elijah’s condition – that he is also hungry and physically depleted. So there is an angel who provides bread for him to eat.

4) This is what connects our Old Testament lesson with today’s gospel reading. In John 6, Jesus feeds the five thousand on the hillside with the loaves and fishes. This miracle becomes a spiritual metaphor as Jesus says: “I am the bread of life.” He goes on to offer some difficult teaching which causes many followers to leave him. John 6:66-69: “Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.’”

I love the words of Peter. In a way, they form the first confession of the apostles in John’s gospel, much like Jesus’ question in the other gospels: “Who do people say that I am?” When Jesus asks the twelve if they too want to leave, Peter offers this declaration: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” This is a question we often ask when we face problems. To whom do you go? Maybe you are like one of my friends who always says: “I know a guy.” Maybe it is an accountant at tax time. A mechanic when your car is broken. A doctor when you face a health crisis. The police or fire department when needed.

But when you are facing a spiritual crisis – when you begin to ponder the greater questions of life – to whom can you go? Peter knew the answer. So did Elijah. “You, O Lord, have the words of eternal life.”

The psalmist Asaph echoes Peter’s words: “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire other than you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:25-26) King David was even more pointed when he wrote: “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.” (Psalm 42:5)

If I may return to the words of Philip Yancey again for a moment. He writes: “When the world asks if there is any hope, we can say absolutely! No one is exempt from tragedy or disappointment. God himself was not exempt. Jesus offered no immunity, no way out of the unfairness, but rather a way through it to the other side.”

Let us remember in times of discouragement that God is indeed present, even in the silence. Let us always turn to Jesus, the one who has the words of eternal life.