Saugatuck Congregational Church, UCC
©Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
November 8, 2015
Scripture: 1 Kings 19:11-16; Jeremiah 33:3; Matthew 7:7-11
Listen. What do you hear? The sound of traffic outside? The rustle of leaves or the lilt of birdsong? Do you hear the shifting of your neighbor in another pew? Children’s voices down the hall … or the beating of your own heart? Listen again. Under all those other sounds, can you hear the gentle rush of your own breath? The pulse of blood in your ears? The whispered voice of God, lodged somewhere behind your sternum, speaking in rhythm with your own heart?
Or is that just your heart valves opening and closing? Can you hear God’s voice? Can any of us? I’m told that our youth all use the same voice when they play the part of God in one of our Story Tent productions. You may know this voice: Deep and resonant– like Charleston Heston with reverb. “Elijah: What are you doing here, Elijah?”
In the children’s book Old Turtle, by Douglas Wood, the wise, old turtle of the title speaks in a voice that “rumbled loudly, like thunder. And…whispered softly, like butterfly sneezes.” Butterfly sneezes. I love the idea that God’s voice might sound like butterfly sneezes, although surely I’d have to lean in, strain my ears to hear, much less understand, such a delicate whisper. So maybe the idea is both poetic and a bit maddening. When I have a question for God, I would just as soon get a clear and unequivocal answer, one that doesn’t require a hearing aid or a cipher. Problem solving is hard enough, without having to unravel God’s response, right?
This week I saw the film, “The Imitation Game,” starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing, head of the team that finally cracked the Germans’ seemingly unbreakable Enigma code during WWII. The film is all about discerning patterns – the patterns that make up a cipher, and patterns of human behavior. As the film begins, Alan Turing is being interviewed by a police officer. He is about to narrate the events of the story, and he says this (to the police office, but also to us, the viewers): “Are you paying attention? Good. If you are not listening carefully you will miss things, important things…”
I wonder if God isn’t playing a similar note of caution in that exchange with Elijah up on the mountain. The Word of God speaks to Elijah – calls ahead and says, “I’m coming.” Elijah is about to get an in-person audience with the Creator of the Cosmos. You’d expect that kind of appearance to be pretty stunning, wouldn’t you? Make way for the One who was before anything; the one who breathed life into all creation; the one in whose hands whole mountain ranges were fashioned; where she trod, valleys took shape; where He wept, rivers flowed. Of course the ground would tremble at Her approach; windstorms take shape; sparks fly; fires erupt…
Only, none of that is actually God. It turns out, that’s just the opening act, the earth shivering in anticipation. God is not IN the earthquake or the fire. Only after all that, after the wind exhales and the dust settles, does Elijah hear the voice of God – and what does it sound like? The Hebrew is tricky to translate, but could mean, ‘the sound of sheer silence,’ ‘a soft, murmuring sound’ or ‘a still, small voice’. In other words: it sounds a little like butterfly sneezes.
Elijah must lean in, must strain his ears, hold his breath, as God, like the teacher determined to get her students’ attention, lowers her voice rather than raising it. “Are you paying attention? [God seems to say] Good. If you are not listening carefully you will miss things, important things…”
It’s worth noting here that Elijah has been throwing a bit of a tantrum. He’s been under a great deal of stress, and he’s finally cracked. Here’s what’s just been happening: At God’s urging, Elijah has gone head to head with Queen Jezebel, who has encouraged her people, including the Israelites, to worship the god Baal instead of the God of Sara and Abraham, the Israelite God, Elijah’s God. In a dramatic show down with the prophets of Baal, Elijah wins – that is, the God of Israel shows up, when Baal does not. But in his moment of glory, Elijah kills those other prophets – all 450 of them – thereby provoking the ire of the queen, who swears to return the favor. Elijah must run for his life.
He gets all the way to Mt. Horeb (also known as Mt. Sinai) – with a little help from an angel who feeds him along the way. By the time he arrives at the cave, Elijah is overtired, overrun, and ready to blame God for the pickle he’s in. He also thinks his situation is utterly unique: he is abandoned by everyone, the only one who remained faithful to the bitter end. “I alone am left, and they are seeking my life…” Does that sound even a little familiar? Don’t we all develop tunnel vision and selective hearing, get a bit self-absorbed, when we are in distress?
God has to find a way to cut through that noise – the literal noise of Elijah’s complaining, and all that background noise: God has to cut through Elijah’s fear and fatigue; through the pain and panic, through the despair of a devoted prophet who has worked too hard for too long and now believes that all is lost.
None of us listens particularly well, when we are in crisis. I, for one, find that all my creative wiring short-circuits when I am feeling undone. My fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and I lose the capacity to consider creative solutions. The front door is jammed, and all I can do is kick it. I forget that there’s a back door that could work just as well…
Being in crisis triggers questions like, “How will I survive?” and “How are you going to fix this?”
God asks a different question, a more expansive question, a re-focusing question: “Elijah, Why are you here?” in that still, small voice, God asks, and one suspects the question means more than just, “Why are you on Mt. Sinai this afternoon?’ After all, God knows all about the events that have unfolded, and it’s God that has convened this mountain-top meeting. I suspect God is really asking, “Elijah, why are you here, in my employ, doing this work? Why did you take this job in the first place? Don’t you remember? How I called you to remind my people that I am a God of covenant? I warned you that it wouldn’t be easy. I also told you I’d be with you. And I have been. Get a grip, Elijah; there’s a bigger picture, and you still have a part to play.”
It’s exactly the kind of re-centering that we need, when our confidence unravels and we face difficult decisions. We need someone to help us to shift from asking panic-induced questions like, “How will we survive?” to asking centering questions, like, “Why are we here?”
In fact, choosing the right questions to ask might be the single most effective first step in finding our way out of any perceived crisis. It is said that Albert Einstein once remarked, “If I had an hour to solve a problem and my life depended on the solution, I would spend the first 55 minutes determining the proper question to ask, for once I know the proper question, I could solve the problem in less than five minutes.”
When the Rev. Martin Copenhaver spoke at Saugatuck Church earlier this fall, he suggested a few questions that the church should be asking in the 21st century. They are questions we could ask in our own individual lives, too. The first one was this: “What is God up to?” “what is God up to?” It’s a question that emerges from a place of curiosity rather than panic: “What is God up to – in my life? In our midst? In this particular moment or circumstance?”
And here’s another: “What are we to do, in light of whatever it is that God is up to?” “What is God’s intention for us? God’s desire? God’s vision – for me, for you, for us?”
There are no quick, easy answers to these questions. And that’s ok. The point is these questions have a way of shifting our energy, as well as our focus. Can you feel it? How they prompt us to breathe a little more deeply? How they remind us of who we are and whose we are? In that voice like butterfly sneezes, God whispered, “Why are you here, Elijah? … And in the question was lodged this response: “You are here because I called you. You are here because I have sustained you, again and again. During the drought I fed you; in the wilderness, I sent you bread. When you called on me, I came – every time. Why are you here, Elijah? Because I am your God, and you are my prophet…” And the ground stopped shaking under Elijah’s feet – or maybe it had been his body quaking, all along. His breathing steadied; his heartrate slowed; his vision cleared.
And once God had Elijah’s attention, he said something else: “You don’t need to do this alone, Elijah. Here’s what we’ll do: I will send a few others: kings to guide my people, and another prophet to follow in your footsteps. You will anoint them. We’ll do it together. Take heart, Elijah. And get back to it.”
God understands that we need companions on the journey; people with whom to share the load; folks with whom to do that careful listening. That’s why I come to church: to listen for God’s voice with you. To test my hearing. To ask, in the company of other faithful listeners, “What is God up to – in my life, in our lives?” To say, “Here’s what I think I’m hearing. Is that what you are hearing?” Together, we can pay attention for the holy patterns, the signs and signals that God is up to something. Together, we can practice being more curious than anxious. We can re-ignite those creative circuits. I’m stuck at the front door; you open a back door. I see leaves, and you see garden mulch; he sees leftover bricks, and she sees a labyrinth in the making; we see cluttered bookshelves, and the youth see a mission trip fundraiser!
“Are you paying attention? Good. If you are not listening carefully you will miss things, important things…” Evidence of God’s transforming presence, whispered reminders that we have a purpose, the promise that God still has much in store – for you, for us. Listen: What do you hear? The laughter of children. The beating of your neighbor’s heart. A cry for help. An expression of joy. An assurance of hope. Your own heart beating in time with the Holy One who speaks to us and through us in a voice like butterfly sneezes…
Scriptures
1 Kings 19:11-16 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
11 God said, “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; 12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13 When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 14 Elijah answered, “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.” 15 Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. 16 Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel; and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.”
Jeremiah 33:3 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
3 Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.
Matthew 7:7-11 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
7 “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 9 Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? 10 Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? 11 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!