The Still Small Voice

A man lies under a lonely bush in the desert, so tired he wants to die. Only days ago he called down fire from heaven. Now he can barely lift his head. And someone is touching his shoulder.

Elijah has just seen the greatest victory of his life on Mount Carmel. Fire from heaven. A nation on its knees. Rain after three years of drought. But when Queen Jezebel hears what happened, she sends him a message. “May the gods punish me, and worse, if by this time tomorrow I haven't made your life like the life of one of those prophets.” And Elijah, the man who stood alone against four hundred and fifty, is afraid. He runs. South, out of Israel, through Judah, all the way to Beersheba at the edge of the desert. He leaves his servant there and walks on alone, a whole day's journey into the wilderness.

He sits down under a broom tree and prays. “It's enough. Now, Lord, take away my life. I'm no better than my ancestors.” Then he lies down and falls asleep. And an angel touches him. “Get up and eat.” Elijah looks, and there by his head is a cake of bread baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He eats and drinks, and lies down again. The angel of the Lord comes a second time. “Get up and eat, because the journey is too much for you.” No lecture. No scolding. Just bread, water, sleep and a gentle touch. Strengthened by that food, Elijah walks for forty days and forty nights, until he reaches Horeb, the mountain of God.

There he goes into a cave and spends the night. And the word of the Lord comes to him. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” Everything pours out. “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I'm the only one left, and now they're trying to kill me too.” The Lord says, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” For the Lord is about to pass by.

Then a great and powerful wind tears through the mountains and shatters the rocks. But the Lord is not in the wind. After the wind, an earthquake. But the Lord is not in the earthquake. After the earthquake, a fire. But the Lord is not in the fire. And after the fire, a still, small voice. A gentle whisper. When Elijah hears it, he pulls his cloak over his face and goes out to stand at the mouth of the cave. And the voice asks the same question. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” And Elijah gives the same answer, word for word. “I'm the only one left.”

God doesn't argue with him. He gives Elijah work to do. Go back the way you came. Anoint Hazael as king over Aram, Jehu as king over Israel, and Elisha to be prophet after you. And then God gently sets the record straight. Elijah is not the only one left. “I have kept seven thousand in Israel, all whose knees have not bowed to Baal.” So Elijah goes. He finds Elisha ploughing a field behind twelve pairs of oxen, and throws his cloak over him. Elisha understands. He says goodbye to his parents, slaughters his oxen, cooks the meat over the wood of the ploughing gear, feeds the people, and follows Elijah. The lonely prophet is not alone anymore.

Horeb is another name for Mount Sinai, the mountain where God met Moses and gave the law. Back then the mountain shook and smoked, because the Lord came down on it in fire. Moses, too, spent forty days and forty nights there without food, and he too was hidden in a cleft of the rock while God's glory passed by. So listeners would hear the echoes. But this time, God is not in the fire. The Hebrew words behind 'a still small voice' are hard to translate. Some modern versions say 'a gentle whisper'; others, 'a sound of sheer silence'.

The still small voice. You'll find it in First Kings, chapter 19. Elijah was worn out, afraid, and sure he was alone. God fed him, let him sleep, listened to him, spoke gently, and gave him a friend. So here's the question to carry with you. When you are tired or afraid, how might God be speaking to you quietly?