I Kings 19:9-18 & Matthew 14:22-33
Showy God – God of the Still, Small Voice
Some sermons are solid declarations
of God’s Word. Some sermons are delivered
with the confidence that every thought that lies behind the words of the
preacher are to be considered words spoken by God. Some sermons have a neat little ending with a
carefully crafted summation which tells you exactly what you are to do. This isn’t going to be one of those
sermons. This one is more of a thought
in process; an idea too important to leave unsaid but of necessity spoken with
a high degree of humility. I don’t want
to upset anyone’s faith. I do not want
to tear down anyone’s convictions. But I
feel compelled acknowledge the diversity of experience, among those who gather
on Sunday morning and identify themselves as Christian. I guess I should just go ahead and admit
that the real reason I want to say what I am about to say is because of my own
attempts to follow Christ and believe in him as Messiah.
You see, I am convinced that Jesus is Messiah because of all the wonderful things told about him in the Gospels. His walking on water is a powerful story which allows me to realize that he is who he says he is. My faith is strengthened by such stories. But the God of I Kings 19, the one who comes to Elijah in the still, small voice – that God is the God who walks with me and talks with me and tells me I am His own. The showy God, the God who walks on water, is essential to my belief system. But the God who quietly remains by my side as I am being tested is the God who receives my prayers.
Let’s do a little searching through the Bible. The passage I read this morning is from the 14th Chapter of Matthew. The 13th Chapter of Matthew is the one which contained all those parables about the unsurprising worth of the Kingdom. The Gospel instructs regarding the one pearl to be valued above all others. Jesus tells stories of seeds sown and taking root as a way of illustrating that not all will hear and gladly receive this message of invitation. From there we moved to the beheading of St. John (our appointed lessons skipped over this part.) Then, we get the story of the feeding of the 5,000. Next comes today’s recounting of Jesus walking on water. I don’t want to get too far ahead, into what comes next, but let me tell you that there are going to be two encounters dealing with faith. You get a hint of that in the exchange between Jesus and Peter, when he tries to walk out on the water. In the exchanges to come, Jesus will compliment the faith of one and condemn the disbelief of the another. From there Matthew throws in a few more miracles and then comes the confession of Peter – you know, the one where he finally blurts out, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
This being where we are in the story, we begin to see that the passage read today figures heavily into the whole process of coming to faith. That what Matthew is doing is telling his story, using an order which leads us through demonstrations of the power of Jesus and finally encouraging us to find it possible to have confidence in him as our Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
It is no small thing – to come to such a confession. And Matthew realizes that it would take a lot to convince his readers of the power and presence of Jesus – power and presence worthy of their devotion and belief. So, he gives them what it takes. He speaks of Jesus’ superiority to the elements of the earth. Remember Matthew’s story of the calming of the storm (Chapter 8.) Chapter 9 has the story of the little girl who had died, Jesus insists she is only sleeping. They laugh at him, but he wakes her from her “sleep.” These stories help Matthew lead his readers from a state of unbelief to a place where they can at least contemplate joining Peter’s confession, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
As I said before, these stories and images are very important to me and my faithful response to God’s call. I would not find it possible to believe in Jesus were it not for the stories Matthew tells.
But I would be lying to you if I insisted that this is the way God comes to me in my day-to-day encounters. My personal relationship with Christ aligns more closely with the experiences of Elijah.
Elijah has been about as faithful as one can be. He has followed God’s directives; he has done God’s bidding. He has spoken a word which God has given him. (Now, it is always tricky for a prophet to claim to speak a word which God has given, because God does not send those words in written format. They come in a dream or a vision and we all know how chancy it is to begin sharing with someone else some “feeling” we have had upon waking or coming down from some experience of euphoria.) Chancy, yet Elijah has tried to do his best.
He goes to King Ahab. Ahab tries his best to make Elijah go away. Finally, there is that big competition on Mt Carmel in which Elijah defeats then destroys the prophets of Baal. It is after this humiliation that Ahab goes home crying to Jezebel and Jezebel swears that she will kill Elijah.
Elijah is about as faithful as one can be. But good things don’t follow him all the days of his life. It is in following God that he has gotten himself in a whole lot of trouble. Part of that following has included some showy actions on the part of God. But now Elijah is alone and frighten and hiding out on Mount Horeb.
The word of the Lord comes to Elijah and it tells him, “Go out and stand on the mountain … for the Lord is about to pass by.”
The story has us all set up. We are expecting something big and powerful; something at least as moving as the tongues of fire which destroyed the altar on Mt. Carmel. God owes Elijah that much, doesn’t he? Sure enough, a great wind comes. A wind so strong it splits the mountains and breaks the rocks. “Ah, surely here is God passing by?” But no.
Next there is an earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire. Yet in these horrible and terrible and wonderful and powerful things God is no where to be found. God was not there, in these showy things. God comes as a voice in the midst of a sheer silence. Earlier translations of the passage referred to it as a still, small voice.
This quite voice. This barely perceivable word. This is the way God comes to Elijah and assures him. Elijah wraps his face in his mantle. He strains to hear what God will tell him. There is no show; nor is there any manipulating of his surroundings. God speaks to him and tells him that what he is doing is the right thing to do. God whispers in his ear and encourages him to continue on the path he has taken.
The wonderful stories Matthew tells, about Jesus feeding the 5,000 and walking on the water figure heavily into my ability to have faith in Christ. But in my day-to-day journey of faith, it is the whispers, the still, small voice which assures me God is with me. It is the word I strain to hear which convinces me I am on the right pathway.
I feel woefully unprepared every time I am summoned to a hospital room or called upon in a crisis situation. In such situations I strain and struggle as I try to wrest from God a miracle. I want so desperately to be able to repeat stories in which a similar situation has had a wonderful and triumphant ending. I so desperately want God to provide a show equal to the task.
I wish I were one of those pastors who found it easy to say that every thing has a meaning and purpose and that God is working through what might seem to us to be a tragic set of circumstances in order to accomplish some greater good. I wish that I were able to provide such assurances.
But God has not come to me that way. God has most often left me and those with whom I pray right smack dab in the middle of whatever mess it is that we were in in the first place. The student sexually assaulted by his supervisor did not receive an apology – rather a perpetrator who wondered out loud if God might be using this molestation as a way to get the young man back in church. No amount of prayer has kept the alcoholic son from returning to the bottle. The man who raped Jodi also stabbed her and she bled to death. No one, in such circumstances, ought to be forced to believe that this present darkness is God’s way of leading them to some later, bright shining glory.
There is a God whose presence is made know in great and showy acts. But the God who most often comes into my life is a God who whispers, a God who encourages, a God who does not change the outcome but remains faithfully by my side and shares tears with me.
I said earlier that I do not want to disrupt anyone’s confidence in God. I do not want to challenge or insist on change in the faith experience of someone who sees God’s hand continually manipulating events and outcomes. What really needs to be said is a word of affirmation for all those whose lives don’t fall into place in neat and perfect boxes. What needs to be heard are the stories in the Bible in which God doesn’t do the showy thing, but comes in a still, small voice. Those of us who do not receive the great miracle are not left out. We may not be invited to walk on the water. We are more like Elijah – given a word through a vision or a dream. A word which instills in us the confidence come down from the mountain and do what it is that has to be done.
Amen.
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