Jack McKinney

Pullen Memorial Baptist Church

June 24, 2007 – Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Text: 1 Kings 19:1-15a

 

Don’t Be Distracted by the Light Show

 

            The following is from an actual media report on July 4, 2003:

 

A congregation in Forest, Ohio was left stunned when lightning struck a church moments after a visiting preacher asked God for a sign. Church members said the preacher had been emphasizing the importance of penance when, in the course of his prayers, he called on the heavens above. The lightning struck the steeple, then hit the preacher himself when it traveled through electrical wiring to his microphone. Local authorities said he was not injured.

 

‘It was awesome, just awesome,’ said church member Ronnie Cheney, who was among the congregation when the lightning hit. ‘You could hear the storm building outside... he just kept asking God what else he needed to say. He was asking for a sign and he got one.’

 

Afterwards services resumed, however churchgoers realized after 20 minutes that the building was on fire and evacuated. (BBC News, July 4, 2003)

 

That’s the thing about signs from God. Even when you get one sometimes the light show turns into a little more than you were hoping for.

            If there is anyone in the Bible who would appreciate that story it would be the prophet Elijah. In the pantheon of great prophets in Israel’s history two stand above all the rest: Moses and Elijah. The Hebrew Bible describes Elijah as raising people from the dead, calling down fire from above, and being taken up into heaven in a whirlwind. In the Gospels we note that Jesus and John the Baptist were sometimes mistaken for Elijah. This strange case of mistaken identity was the result of the belief that Elijah would return as a precursor to the Messiah’s appearing.

            But to understand our reading from 1 Kings 19 this morning it is important to note that Elijah’s primary role was challenging Ahab and Jezebel, the evil king and queen of Israel in his time. Ahab and Jezebel’s chief sin was that they promoted the worship of the Canaanite deity, Baal, and killed the prophets of Israel’s God, Yahweh. Elijah’s most dramatic move in this struggle for Israel’s religious soul was to challenge 450 prophets of Baal to a showdown on top of Mt. Carmel. At that place Elijah set up an altar in order to carry out a strange wager with his opponents. The God that responded to the cry for fire was the true God. And, of course, the 450 prophets of Baal struck out and Elijah hit a homerun when his prayer for fire from heaven resulted in one heck of a bonfire. I just hope Elijah wasn’t wearing a microphone when he was praying.

            All of which brings us to where we find in Elijah in our reading. In the immediate aftermath of his greatest victory, a victory that has vindicated him and his message, he is depressed and running for his life. Now in Elijah’s defense I should note that his depression and panic are partly the result of Queen Jezebel’s pledge to kill him for his actions on Mt. Carmel. Having the leader of your country sign your death warrant would tend to rain on your parade a bit. 

But there is something a little odd about how quickly Elijah descends into despair. Think about the flow of this story. First, Elijah asks for one of the greatest signs from God ever requested and gets it. Second, Jezebel is ticked and decides to seek vengeance against the prophet. Finally, Elijah feels abandoned by God and asks that he just be allowed to die. What happened to the guy on top of Mt. Carmel who was so cocky that he took on 450 opponents all by himself? What happened to the guy who was so confident that God would answer his call that he had them pour three rounds of water on the altar before he prayed for God’s fire? Where did that guy go? Suddenly Elijah has run out into the wilderness and thrown himself under a little tree asking God to do away with him for he is no better than his ancestors. Strange, isn’t it? It’s almost as if the big light show from God didn’t matter all that much. Getting the sign he requested didn’t mean the church wasn’t going to catch fire.

Indeed, God’s desire for Elijah to quit looking for God in the dramatic events of life is confirmed in the second half of this story. As Elijah despairs under the tree God sends an angel not to rescue him, but to point out there is food and water nearby that he needs to partake of. After this fast food angel makes two appearances, Elijah journeys 40 days until he reaches a cave in Mt. Horeb. And it is at that cave that we find one of the most memorable stories in the entire Bible:

[A voice] said [to Elijah], ‘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.

 

Did you get that? God was not in the great wind, or the earthquake, or the fire. It kind of makes you wonder why there was a great wind and earthquake and fire unless the point needed to be hammered home to Elijah that he had been looking in the wrong place for God’s presence. So, where was God? Well, apparently God was in the silence.

            Many of us like this story because it is closer to our experience. Let’s face it, we have never had fire rain down from heaven when we prayed for it, and we have never had food delivered from an angel, and we have never had a front row seat to the original “Earth, Wind, and Fire” concert. But we know silence, boy do we know silence. Our experience of God is dominated by silence. So, when Elijah finds himself alone in that cave and he is suddenly aware that God is made manifest in the silence, well, we get that.

            But here is what we may not get, and to be honest, here is where you may decide this sermon takes a wrong turn. As I think about the implications of this story something fundamental about our faith tradition is raised for me. If God is not in the big signs, but is found in the silence, this means that the workings of God are very subtle. But it means more than that. It also means that we have historically misrepresented the very nature and character of God.

            If you listen carefully to any conversation about God one thing becomes clear quickly. Power is God’s chief attribute according to most of us. And I don’t mean a subtle power. This is the power that controls all events in life; this is the power that says all things work for good even when the world is going to hell in a hand basket; this is the power that says everything has a purpose even when what we are facing is as purposeless as a child dying needlessly. We are so convinced that power is God’s main attribute that we defend that power against all attacks and against all doubts.

            Why do we do that? Because our whole emotional and spiritual security system is wrapped up in the belief that God is in complete control and we needn’t really worry about anything. War keeps raging and soldiers and civilians die without an end in sight? Don’t worry, God is in control. Your marriage is teetering on the brink of disaster? Don’t worry, everything happens for a reason. Your child is facing a scary future because of some serious malady? Don’t worry, God has a purpose for it. Do you see how quickly we jump to defend God’s power in situations that are beyond our understanding or control? We do that not only because we want to defend God; we do it because our sense of security depends on believing this is true.

            But I don’t believe it. Nothing about how the world operates, and how we operate in it, suggests there is a power that is making everything turn out according to a larger purpose. The damn war is a tragedy of mammoth proportions and I see nothing redeemable about it. The suffering of innocent children in our midst is heartbreaking not purposeful. Everywhere we look we see senseless suffering and we do neither God nor ourselves any favors by diminishing these incidents with a trite, “I’m sure God has a good reason for it.”

            And what happens to us and our faith if we let go of the idea that controlling power is God’s chief attribute? Well, we end up in a cave realizing God isn’t in the great wind or earthquake or fire. And that’s a scary place to be. Because in that cave we have to start redefining our faith. No longer is faith about some power out there that is always going to make everything okay. Faith suddenly isn’t about power and control at all.

            No one understood this better than Jesus of Nazareth. This is a man who said the kingdom of God is within us. This is a man who affirmed the goodness of those around him who were despised and rejected by others. This is a man who defined faith by deeds of love and compassion. This is a man who died a martyr’s death rather than make a power play to save his life. Do you see the dichotomy between what Jesus stood for and what so many of his followers stand for? Jesus didn’t point to the great wind or earthquake or fire and say believe in the God behind that. No, he pointed to the leper and the prostitute and the religiously impure and said believe in the God who wants you to love them. Love them as you love yourself, Jesus taught. Oh, yes, that’s the other big thing about faith as Jesus described it. Faith meant believing there was something loveable about yourself.

            And now you see that if we shift the focus of our faith away from believing in God’s power and control to believing in Jesus’ vision of God’s love and compassion, well, once we do that you are operating without a safety net. Faith is no longer about making us feel secure but about nudging us into action. Faith isn’t about understanding the unknowable but is about knowing something true about ourselves. Faith isn’t about looking for the great sign out there somewhere but is about discovering the indestructible soul within.

And if these are the things that make for a true faith you can understand why the wind and earthquake and fire don’t really mean much. The great signs we are looking for ultimately may not mean much more than the church is on fire and it’s time to evacuate. But the silence, oh the silence is the key. In the silence we can listen and look within and learn. In the silence Elijah found God. Maybe we can, too.