Wells Cathedral – A sermon preached at Evensong on February 15th 2015 – Listening in the silence

The Old Testament passage this afternoon in 1 Kings 19 is a most familiar, often quoted and well known story of the bible. Elijah, amongst the wind, earthquake and fire, hears the still small voice of God in the silence. The metaphors and similes easily give rise to expressions of poetry, music and hymnody.

Paul Simon for example, although he doesn’t explicitly speak of the influence of the story in his writing,certainly resonates with the passage. In his famous 1960s song,he speaks of prophets hearing their message whispered in the sound of Silence.

And the hymn Dear Lord and Father of Mankindis another example of its inspiration, this time explicitly referencing the passage. Taken from a Quaker poem of the late 19th century the hymn is often chosen for weddingservices, bringing perhaps a wry smile on the congregation’s faces as we sing:

Breathe through the heats of our desire

Thy coolness and Thy balm;

Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;

Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,

O still, small voice of calm.

The New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, which is the translation we use, captures the competing grandeur of the silence, the sheer silence, the mighty silence that came after the deafening noises of the earth.

And God was not in the wind that split mountains and broke rocks, nor was he in the earthquake, nor was he in the fire. But after the fire Elijah heard the sound of sheer silence.

In other translations the silence iscontrasted with the enormous turbulence of the elements. After the tumultsElijah hears the still small voice. What matters for the writer of the passage and indeed for Elijah is neither the competition nor the contrast but the voice of God speaking into his oppressed soul.

For as well as being a triumphant man on Mount Carmel, having defeated the prophets of Baal, Elijah was also a troubled man pursued by the Queen, Jezebel, who vowed that she would do to him what he had done to the prophets and have him killed before the day was out. He had fled from her punitive promise and found himself beyond the cities and towns and villages in the wilderness where he had become so tired he slept. The language speaks of a man at the end of his tether, depressed, isolated, beyond the hope of life, a few breaths away from death.

He journeys to Horeb, the holy mountain, which some have associated with Sinai as his ancestors had known it and there he enters the cave. Again the language is pregnant with meaning. Here is the place of the covenant between the people and God given through Moses on the mountain. Here is the place where humankind’s fate rested in the hands of what Moses would bring from God as they journeyed from slavery to find a promised land. Here is a place of the clouds of unknowing until God chooses to reveal his glorious will. And Elijah finds himself there - searching for his identity. Will God keep him? Will God lay him aside? Is this his final destiny or a place of renewal?

And so he enters the cave, maybe a tomb - a place of death and finality, or is it a womb – a place of new birth? It’s a metaphor that would be taken up years later by the philosopher Plato and offered to explore revelation and meaning. Yet it is of course the prototype of the ultimate cave, the tomb in the garden that Christ was laid in.

And so it was from the cave that Elijah’s future was decided as he heard the wind and the earthquake and the fire and finally the sheer silence. Then out of reverence for the Lord he covered his face in order not to see him and he walked out into the silence and made his well-rehearsed confession:

I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.

It is the same speech he made before the Lord passed by and it is at that dramatic moment that God gives him his commission to serve him in Damascus, to go back to the north and through the land of his arch-enemy and anoint new kings and indeedhis own prophetic successor, Elisha. The countries shall continue and the prophetic line will not end with Elijah, the word of the Lord will be heard once more, at least for a time.

This is one of the defining moments of the Old Testament and it hinges on Elijah finding the courage to listen to what God wants of him. The Bible speaks often about how people listen or don’t listen to God. Sarah listens in on a conversation about her fertility and laughs at the prospect of bearing a son in old age. Abraham listens to God when he is commanded to sacrifice his son. Eli listens to Samuel and discerns the Lord speaking, Jonah refuses to listen concerning the Ninevites and yet ironically and the listen to God through his message. Joseph listens in a dream to protect Jesus and Jesus listens to the Samaritan Woman by the well and Paul listens to the voice of Jesus on the Damascus road. The cycles and spirals of listening are hallmarks of the journey of the disciple. Listening to God and as an expression of love listening to one another is written on almost every page of the Scriptures.

Some years ago I was involved in holding a listening course in many of the parishes of our diocese. Many a week would find me travelling to Bath, Minehead, Yeovil, Weston Super Mare and many villages in between to offer the course.

The main technique of listening I encouraged was empathic listening. Empathy is different to sympathy for as sympathy attempts to feel for someone else, empathy gets into their shoes and feels with them. It tries to feel the same way as they do and respondwith a word or two that mirrors their feelings. In such a way, and almost by magic, the person will feel they have someone who understands, who is safe to be with and will perhaps offer their hurts to be healed.

I imagine we’ve all had times when someone has opened up to us in a personal way, perhaps about a secret, a deep wound, a sin or a tough situation they are going through. Telling a person what to do in such circumstances can be counter productive, but listening carefully to their story can become a sounding board for them to find their own way forward,their own solution, their own path to healing.

The late Dame Cicely Saunders, founder of the hospice movement in this countrysaid:

When someone is in a climate of listening he’ll say things he wouldn’t have said before.

And the great Henri Nouwen said:

Healing means first of all the creation of an empty but friendly space where those who suffer can tell their story to someone who can listen with real attention.

Listening is so important. A member of my diocesan team out of the blue this week offered a reflection at our team meeting on listening. It was one of those TED talks on the internet about 5 ways to listen better. The speakergave practical and down to earth ways to practise listening: being silent, distinguishing different voices, savouring sound, placing ourselves in a position to listen and appreciating what is said and responding. It seems listening is so important whoever and wherever we are and perhaps especially when the clamour of society is at its loudest.

Dean John preached on Christmas day morning at the end of last year and said this:

We live in an age of anxiety when many are scared about the future, whether for themselves, or for their children and grandchildren. We see each day on the media scenes of violence…We know of the global threats of terror and pandemic. At the same time, because reality is too painful to really look at and understand we avert our eyes.

The winds that blow away our familiar ways of living, the earthquakes that shake our beliefs, the fires that consume the structures of society are all around us. We may hide in our caves but God bids us out - to gird our feeble and fragile bodies with his word and to go at his command wherever he sends us.

So before we go we need to listen carefully to what God is saying to us. How we do that will be different for each of us – in a church, on a beach, in a car, in the middle of the night, through a stranger’s face, in the glimpse of a shadow, in the library, at our wits end - but only when we have listened shall be empowered.

And for what purpose?- to listen to others - to express the love of God by listening and giving time to other human beings.Head to head listening. Heart to heart listening. Soul to soul listening.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer offers a useful thought for Christian living

To listen another’s soul into a condition of disclosure may be almost the greatest service that any human performs for another.

As we enter this week we enter the season of Lent. May it be a time of listening through the crashes and noises of the world,that we may find God’s sheer silence,find God’s voice and accept God’svocation to take his challenge to this world.

1