Tuesday, December 11, 2018

The Voice in the Silence


The Voice in the Silence--December 11, 2018

"Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah, saying, 'What are you doing here, Elijah?' He answered, 'I have been very zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.' 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. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, 'What are you doing here, Elijah?' He answered, I have been very zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken you covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.' Then the LORD said to him, 'Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus..." [1 Kings 19:9b-15a]

Sometimes the thing you are looking for on the distant horizon is already right at your side.

Sometimes the thing you are waiting for in some far-off future is already unfolding in the present moment.

Sometimes we expect God to show up in some big, dramatic sign and show of power--a miracle, a healing, a ray of light or a clear voice giving answers--and instead, God taps us on the shoulder and says, "I have been here all along--let's get back to work."

I know that this odd episode about the old self-pitying prophet Elijah hardly seems like a Christmas story, but in a lot of ways, I think it is exactly what this season of Advent is all about.  We are looking on the horizon for God to act, for God to speak, for God to show up... and while we are waiting, the One for whom we have been looking shows up right at our side in the midst of the waiting.

It is God, after all who has been speaking to Elijah while he is waiting in the cave.  It is the same voice that speaks to him after the sound of sheer silence.  The God who is not in the whirlwind or the earthquake or the fire has been right there with Elijah all along, speaking while he waited, present even when Elijah did not understand.

That's Advent.  That's what it means to see Christ here... in the waiting, as well as when we get to the pageantry of Christmas Eve with the mangers and angels and shepherds, or the triumph of God's final victory when Christ comes again.  All of us are waiting for the day when at the last God makes all things new and reigns in majesty and glory, but in the mean time, Christ is present here, now, while we are waiting in the cave with Elijah.

How much of life is spent like that--we have this set of specific acts or events we think will be signs of God's presence.  "I know God will be with us when we get that healing we've been waiting for," or "I'll know God was present if the test results come back the way we want them to," or "We believe in a big and strong God, so we will accept nothing less than a miracle here!"  We have taught ourselves to assume the LORD is in the business of showing up in earthquakes and fires and winds, but have forgotten that God is the One with us in the waiting first.  

Yes, sometimes the tests come back the way you want.  Sometimes the boss calls you in for the promotion you were waiting for.  Sometimes the miracle happens and leaves all the doctors befuddled when the cancer has disappeared without any explanation. Sometimes the tornado comes through and your house is the one that's spared. And sometimes none of those things happen. But let us be clear: God is not located in this or that outcome.  God has been in the cave with us waiting the whole time, regardless of whether the events we wanted to happen took the particular course we wished for.  The living God doesn't simply show up for a momentary cameo of cosmic power and then disappear with a snap of a finger.  The living God has been with us all along and will be with us when it is time to move on, too.

That's the other thing about this story with Elijah that gets me: when God finally speaks, the instructions are basically, "Get back to work with the job I've already called you go--I'll be with you there, too."  Maybe Elijah thought he needed to go out to this cave on Mount Horeb (where Moses had once upon a time met God), but God didn't need to have this special location to meet.  God had been with Elijah before he started running away to the desert, and was with him in the cave, and then went with him once Elijah was ready to leave.  He was so convinced he needed to be on this special spot looking for a special sign of God's favor, and God's response turns out to be, "I have been with you all along."

Christ is present with us, not just when the doctors come in with answers and a cure, but while we are traipsing the worn carpet of the waiting room, too.  Christ is present with us, not just when we get the dream job, but in all the things that frustrate you about your current job, too.  Christ is present with us, not just when we get the thing we were praying for, but in the waiting and in the asking and in the struggling as well.

We can get ourselves so focused on some future moment or pre-selected answer we are waiting for, that we miss that the voice of the LORD hasn't been coming from up in heaven far away or traveling through the future backward to reach us, but rather God has been the voice right at our side.  We do not need to pray for God to "come near" as though God is not right here already.  Perhaps more we need to ask for eyes to recognize Christ in the dark of the cave, and ears to hear the presence of God even in the sound of sheer silence.  This is the world that God loves--this beautiful, terrible, wonderful, heartbreaking, violent, miraculous world--and so this is the place where we will find God present today, this place, this world, this day, and not sequestered away behind stained glass windows or under steeples.  

Here.  Today.  Now.  Listen for God in the silence.  Look and see Christ has been here in the dark.

Lord Jesus, help us to see your presence with us, regardless of how the events of the day go, and help us to hear your voice in the silence.


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