Learning to hear the whispering sound in the noise

Homily for the 19th Sunday

After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound.
When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak.
1 Kings 19:13

Where do you hear the whispering voice of God? Elijah heard that whisper in the cave. Jesus heard that whisper when he went up the mountain to pray.

After I have had a challenging day, I often go off in the woods by myself. My hike becomes my prayer. In the woods, I am renewed and energized. I reconnect with God through the beauty of creation and the release of stress through physical activity.

But it’s not always easy to get away to a quiet place of rest.  Life is chaotic.  But what happens when we don’t?   The gospel illustrates a contrast. 

Jesus is alone on the mountain in prayer. The disciples are in a boat. The wind is against them. The waves toss them from side to side.  Jesus is immersed in prayer while the disciples are battling the storms.  Which more accurately describes your spiritiual life?

The spiritual lesson for me is clear. When I neglect prayer, it doesn’t take much for the headwinds of anxiety and fear to push me back, or the cross currents of frustration or uncertainty spin me around. The storm outside quickly becomes a storm within.

That is also the experience of Elijah.  He was exhausted, discouraged, and frightened.  The enemies were in pursuit.  Finally, he withdrew in a cave.

God tells him to stand outside because the Lord is about to pass by.  Then came a mighty wind, strong enough to split the rocks.  Then came an earthquake. Then came fire.

Finally came “a tiny whispering sound.” Other translations call it “the sound of sheer silence” or “a soft breeze.”  That is where Elijah encountered God.  If Elijah focused on the surrounding calamities – the wind and the earthquake and the fire –  he would not have heard God. 

Jesus intentionally withdrew to the mountain. Elijah intentionally withdrew to the cave.  The problem, of course, is that most of us don’t live near mountaintops or caves. So, in the winds and the waves of daily life, where can we hear God whispering to us?

This past week I was traveling through Boston and Bar Harbor, Maine. Airports, hotels, traffic, crowds of people. Traveling is not exactly conducive to contemplative prayer.

But this time I wanted to do better.

I sat in a crowded terminal at Boston’s Logan Airport. Around me were constant announcements, conversations, rolling suitcases, and the general noise of travel. Every few minutes I found myself asking, “Where is that tiny whispering voice of God right now?”

I began to realize that silence is less about my external circumstances than it is about my interior posture.

Each day I opened my journal and took an inventory.  I wrote a word describing my surroundings.  And then another word describing how it was making me feel.  One word for the noise around me, one word for noise within me.

“Flight delays… anxious.”  “Long lines… impatient.”  “Poor directional signs… confused.”  Those interior noises – anxiety, impatience, confusion – make it difficult to hear God. 

I realized once again something I have known all along: I can’t control everything happening out there. But I can pay attention to what is happening in here.

Just naming what was going on inside gave me power to control it.  Sometimes it gave me an entry point to a deeper realization.  What am I afraid of?  Why do I have such little faith?  Do I really believe God loves me?

On our trip, there was also beauty everywhere. We walked through the historic streets of Boston and the beautiful streets of Bar Harbor. We ate lobster rolls on the wharf and visited Acadia National Park.

And the words that accompanied those experiences were different:  Joy. Wonder. Belonging. Gratitude.

When my heart was filled with those things, I found it much easier to hear the tiny whispering voice of God.

It reminded me of Jesus’ words to Martha: “You are worried and anxious about many things. But there is need of only one thing.”  Jesus wasn’t criticizing Martha simply because she was busy. He was inviting her to notice what was happening within her. Her many activities had become many anxieties.

That is often our problem. It isn’t simply that life is noisy. We carry so much interior noise that we cannot hear the quiet voice of God.

When I was able to quiet my interior noise, the beauty of Maine became another lesson for me.  The lakes were crystal clear. The forests were a deep, rich green. Hydrangeas were bursting with color. Apple trees were heavy with fruit. Blueberries and cranberries were everywhere.  Life in abundance was everywhere.

Then I remembered: this is Maine. The growing season is short, the soil is rocky, and the winters are long and unforgiving.  Perhaps that is why everything blooms with such intensity.

It struck me that this is also true of the spiritual life.  There are seasons when the winds are against us. There are winters of grief, disappointment, uncertainty, and loss. There are times when it seems as though nothing is growing.

But the winter does not have the final word.  Even if the climate of our life is severe, we can still hear the whispering voice of God.  If we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, as Peter did when he stepped out of the boat, and if we continue listening, spring eventually comes.

God brings new life. Fruit appears where we could not have imagined it.  The storms do not have the final word.  God does.

So perhaps the question I leave with you today is the same question I kept asking myself in that busy airport terminal:

Where do I hear the whispering voice of God?  Or maybe a better question, where am I drowning out that voice with a lot of other noise.