How does God speak to us?

August 13, 2023

This story of how Elijah experiences God is a story that I have always found very meaningful.  If we read the passages in the Bible just before the first reading of today, we are told the story of the prophet Elijah. He had risked his life in spreading the word of God, and since his message went against Jezebel the queen’s wishes, she has vowed to take revenge and take his life. And so, Elijah, runs away in fear and hides in a mountain cave - similar to what any one of us would do, if we publicly challenged and worked against somebody in great power who threatens to kill us. And then the Lord speaks to Elijah and tells him that he will come to him.  And then we have this beautiful narration: “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.” So, while Elijah was hoping and expecting God to show his power, to help him challenge the harm of the earthly power that was threatening his life - apparently God did not choose to come to him in power.

On the other hand, when Jesus wants to experience God at important moments in his life, as recounted in the Gospels, he retreats into silence.  After his baptism, and before he starts his public mission, he is said to withdraw into the desert to pray for 40 days (Mathew 4:1).  When the disciples come back after a successful mission, he pulls them away to quiet place to pray (Mark 6:3--32).   When Jesus hears of the beheading of John the Baptist, he withdraws into a wilderness by himself (Mathew 14:13).  He picks his 12 apostles after a night of quiet prayer (Luke 6:12-13). Even just before his Agony is about to start, Jesus retires to the Mount of Olives and goes to a spot separate from his disciples to pray in silence.  He asks his closest friends (Peter, James and John) to stay awake with him and to pray with him, but he himself goes aside to pray in silence and alone. And in none of these instances does Jesus ask for God’s power or ask for a miracle from God.  Even on the cross, when Jesus feels abandoned, finally, in his agony, he hears God’s silence, and so can give up his life in peace as he says: Into your hands I commend my spirit. 

For me this is a powerful, though troubling, picture of how God actually works in our lives too.  Not with great power, as in a powerful storm or an earthquake or an all-consuming fire, but in the sound of sheer silence.  And we, with our ears drowned by the noise of all that is happening around us - the noise of our fears, our desires, the pressures of life, the threats we face, the ambitions we crave for - we often cannot hear the silence in which God speaks. To adapt the words of the famous song, The Sound of Silence, we are mesmerized by the sound and flash of the neon God that we have made in our own likeness, and so we cannot hear God in the sound of silence.  Because, again to adapt what the song says, the words of the prophets are not to be found in loud and important places, or beautiful houses of worship, but on the subway walls, in tenement halls and whispered in the sounds of silence.

And so, we are often disappointed with God - for we are waiting for God to come to us in power, in the strong wind, the earthquake, the fire.  What use to us is a God who comes in silence, and not in towering and fearsome power to our aid?

And in the Gospel reading of today, we have the apostle Peter, who does have his Master coming to him in power, walking on the waters, - a Peter who even begins to walk on the water himself.  Unlike Elijah who experiences God in silence and then recovers and goes on with his mission, we have a Peter who experiences Jesus’ power, who can boast of being willing to die for Jesus, who is the one who first confesses that Jesus is the Christ, who is selected by Jesus to be the leader of the Apostles - perhaps all because he has experienced the power of Jesus - yet is the same one who cannot trust Jesus enough to continue walking on the water, who cannot stay awake with him in the garden of Gethsemane, who three times denies that he even knew Jesus, who is too afraid to come to the site of the crucifixion.  And as the Gospel tells us, Peter really repents and becomes aware of who he is only when (soon after he denies Jesus the third time) the Lord looks at him in silence across a dark courtyard lit only by a bonfire.  (Luke 22:61)  Finally Peter hears Jesus.

And so, Peter’s story gives us hope - but also lends a note of caution.  Hope, because we too are deeply flawed. We too fail in so many ways.  But caution too, because it reminds us that we are so mesmerized by power that many (most?) of us seem to recognize God’s actions only when God comes in power. But that God mostly comes in silence, is a lesson we find so very very difficult to learn.  Perhaps, many of us, do not want to accept this lesson, because then who will take care of us, who will defend us, who will punish those who hurt us!  And so, we flock to powerful novenas, and special kinds of prayer and places where hallelujahs are shouted, and miracles are said to take place - perhaps because we seem to be able to recognize God only in power.

So perhaps we really need to ask ourselves what kind of God we believe in, and more importantly, what is our understanding of prayer. Is our prayer meant to change us, or to change God so that he acts more powerfully in our lives?   Maybe we see prayer as a bargaining with God - we offer God worship, praise and ask pardon, thereby making God happy, and then we can, of course, ask this ‘pleased’ God to work powerfully in our lives. And so perhaps our prayer is filled with too much noise.  

But today’s first reading is telling us that God does not usually come with noise - not in the powerful wind, or the earthquake or the all-consuming fire, but in silence - a lesson we can learn from many religious traditions too.  We have a very powerful aphorism variously attributed to the Sufi poet Rumi or to St. John of the Cross, which says: “Silence is God’s first language” with an addition by the Trappist monk Thomas Keating that said, “All else is poor translation.”  Should, then, our prayer be more focused on building a stillness in our hearts so that we can understand this language of God?  Kahlil Gibran wrote: “What is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether?”.  The Buddhist form of Vipassna meditation seems to be based on an understanding of prayer that is similar, for the entire aim of that meditative experience is to quieten and empty one’s mind, so that one becomes united to all of creation, to God himself, -  and in that quiet silence one is slowly empowered to get up and walk in the way of harmony.  And if we pray like this, maybe our hearts will be filled with a peace that would empower us like Jesus, to make the right decisions, to find our path, and even to suffer, if need be, with equanimity.   And if we can hear God in the sounds of silence, we can get up and walk,  - stumbling perhaps, and often falling, but never ever giving up, knowing that in God’s far-seeing and loving eyes, we are somehow moving in the figure of a dance.

First Reading: First Kings 19: 9a, 11-13a

At that place Elijah came to a cave and spent the night there. Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “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.

Second Reading: Romans 9: 1-5

I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience confirms it by the Holy Spirit— I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh. They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.

Gospel: Matthew 14: 22-33

Immediately he made the disciples get into a boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.  And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea.  But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear.  But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  He said, “Come.” So, Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus.  But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!”  Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.  And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”