The Still Small Voice of God
I recently had a brief chat with Sister Elizabeth, of the community of The Queen of Peace
Monastery, and we chatted about what we were reading at present in the Scriptures. She
mentioned that she was working through the two books of Kings. I asked her who she identifies
with more, Elijah or Elisha? Her choice was Elijah because she found his powerful acts
inspiring and encouraging to her faith. I also like Elijah, but I identify with him in his quest for
God during his downer after the Lord’s great defeat of the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18). Elijah
flees into the wilderness and finally goes to meet God on Mt. Horab. But God is not in the
mighty rushing wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire. It was in the sheer, utter silence that
Elijah finally hears God speaking to him ( 1Kings 19). I shared with Sister Elizebeth the image
of this on my mobile phone cover, which shows trees bent in the wind, earthquake cracks in the
edge of the mountain and lightening bolts of fire. She asked, “Where is the still small voice?”
And that is the real question for many of us, where is the still small voice that we sometimes
desperately want to hear? Why can’t we hear God speaking to us? Today’s world is loud! I am
routinely assaulted with the noise of powerful wood working machines and the ever-present dust
collector. We usually have radios, TVs, or music streaming in the background of our lives. Even
our prayers are busy, we often rush through our reading, take a stab at picking the inspirational
thought for the day, pray to God about our concerns and our needs and then sign off with the
Lord’s prayer before rushing to the first task of the day. In actual fact, this was the first task of
the day, and we have muffed it.
What we have missed is letting God speak to us! What we have missed is the still, sheer silence!
When visiting some of the majestic churches and Cathedrals, I have heard guides tell the groups
to speak quietly and to respect the silence of those seated or kneeling in the pews. A waiting
silence is a way to the Lord’s presence. But such a silence is difficult to achieve, our minds fill
emptiness with thoughts and plans of what we need to do later, of what could be possible, of
what are we going to do about… Focusing on some aspect of one’s surroundings, the cross on
the Communion Table, the stain glass window, an image, or detail of something near you and
asking the Holy Spirit to rest with you, helps. Sometimes we are startled by thoughts that flitter
into our minds, sometimes we become burdened by concerns we have not thought of before. In
our imperfect silence, is God speaking to us?
Canon Donald Lawton