1 Kings 19:9-18

At that place he came to a cave and spent the night there.

Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He 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.”

He 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, 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. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He 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.” 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. 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. Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu shall kill, and whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha shall kill. Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.”

Sermon Text

When was the last time you saw something holy? I do not mean something that felt spiritual or was awe inspiring. I mean something that was Holy. Set apart. Distinct. Terrifying because it was so much bigger and more powerful and more wonderful than you can imagine. To come into contact with the Holy is to feel small, smaller than you could ever imagine. To be afraid of something incomprehensible, and yet to not be consumed by either the fear or the smallness. To be in the presence of the Holy is to know all at once how insignificant we are and yet to see in the insignificance life rather than despair.

For myself, I can think of a few times when an encounter with the holy has really struck me. Once, when I was reading the book of Ezekiel, I had decided to read the description of the angelic beings that went alongside God. Things with multiple heads and hands and eyes and wheels and incomprehensible geometries. In the moment I read a certain line, the reality of that vision of the Prophet struck me. I was down on the floor in a second, I could not lift my head because the weight of this revelation seemed too heavy.

Once as I was presiding over Communion, as I lifted the cup and the wafer that I was using that day to recite the Agnus Dei, “Oh Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the World, have mercy upon us.” I felt the cup grow heavy in my hands. The true weight of that statement, that this was the body and blood of the savior of the world, shed for me and for all other people… I was afraid I was going to drop it when I saw just what this ritual was really doing.

I had a minister describe a time he had been praying with a mentor. They were both kneeling and when they had reached a certain point, he said he wanted to raise his hand, because he felt God had entered in that space. Yet, if he did lift it, he was afraid it would be consumed… This is what it is to be in the presence of the Holy.

Our scripture today captures a moment in which Elijah is fleeing his role as Prophet. He is not doing so because of mere exhaustion or worry, but because he has been beaten and bruised and threatened with death a few too many times. Most of his friends have either abandoned him or been killed, he is alone as a prophet of God. He flees into the desert and asks for God to kill him rather than let him suffer. Undeterred, God instead feeds the prophet for several nights. Elijah receives enough strength, not just to survive, but to seek answers. He leaves the bush he’s been living in and goes to Mount Horeb, another name for Sinai.

Horeb was a sacred mountain, and anyone who touched it could be put to death. Yet the prophet was unafraid to approach this holy place. He climbed the mountain until he found a cave. Entering in, he waited until God spoke. After stating his fears, God told Elijah to stand on the face of the mountain. The Prophet did not, however, go to see the Divine Pageant that passed by. Fire burned, earthquakes shook, wind blew, and then, only when silence fell, did Elijah exit. He covered his face, he left the cave, because he now knew that God had entered into this place.

Usually we focus on the idea that God was in the stillness as a reminder for us to find places of quiet in our life. God is not in the noise and the wonder and the awe, God is in the silence of our quiet reflection and contemplation. Sure, God comes to us in the midst of silence, when we put away all other distractions. Yet, the silence here is not necessary for Elijah to see and hear God’s presence, it is a consequence of God’s presence. The silence is not the means by which Elijah hears God, it is the place in which God is found.

What’s the difference. Well, the difference is that God coming into this place was signified by a great deal of noise and displays of power. Fire, lightning, earthquakes, were the attendants to God’s royal arrival. They burned and raged to declare the glory of the thing that they were heralding. Clearing a path – destroying stone and air and any other obstacle.

The silence that surrounds God is not a statement about where we can find God, but a statement of what God’s presence does naturally. It clears a path because when something Holy enters into a space, there is no choice but to make way for that holy thing. Nature is not blinded like we are, it is fully aware of the holiness of its creator, and so it naturally moves from the place that God’s presence has inhabited, it is fully aware that it is smaller, and less good, and less worthy, than the one who made it.

We lack an understanding of God’s holiness these days. We are, as I often put it, “Drunk on God’s grace,” fully aware that Christ has forgiven us all that is past, we take the command of the book of Hebrews that we should, “boldly approach,” God’s throne; forgetting that we are only meant to do so because we have understood what it means to work out our salvation with “fear and trembling.”[1] Put in the simplest possible terms: God’s love is so great that we have no reason to fear coming to God with the deepest desires of our heart. Simultaneously, God is so holy that we must never forget that it is only God’s love that allows us to approach God without being destroyed. The natural consequence of Holiness is that it repels all other things, that we can approach God at all is a testament to God’s goodness.

Elijah gives us a model for this across his journey to Horeb. He seeks release from his pain and prays to God to just let him die. God cares for him instead. Elijah is strengthened by this care and does what seems impossible, he climbs the holy mountain, the place forbidden that anyone should touch. He enters the heart of that mountain and waits. He waits for the holiness of God to drive away everything around it… Only when the stillness of the void surrounding the holy of holies falls on the world does Elijah cover his face and approach God for help.

In your heart now is the very Spirit of God. If you are a Christian and you profess your faith, you are a Temple to God. Holiness is in you, and it is burning against all unholiness within you. Every thought and word and action that works against the will of God is at odds with this Spirit within you. This same Spirit, however, allows you to enter into its presence, because God is abundant in patience and care. We are not eaten up from the inside, because the Spirit of God hopes to see us made holy through this indwelling, not to see us destroyed.

How do we become more fit for the holiness that lives within us? Firstly, by taking time to acknowledge the holiness around us. When you pray, do not do so flippantly, as if you are having a conversation with just anyone. God is a friend, God is a father, God is sibling, and confidant to us – but God is still God. Give space, and time, and weight to your prayers and see them do much more for you because of it. When you come to worship, likewise, let the hymns carry you to the throne of Grace – even the annoying ones you do not like personally. Let the word of God, the prayers we offer, the space we fill, be a holy thing for you, not just a checklist to be completed.

The thing about holiness is that it asserts itself, we are simply meant to let it do what it will. Do not think you can only meet God in the manicured silence of a long planned out moment. When God appears, you will know it by the widening gap in space, time, and sound God’s presence produced. In a crowded room, as you suddenly feel smaller, when the fear of something more immense strikes you, but somehow that excites and strengthens rather than consumes… When the hymn you have sung a thousand times suddenly seems to swell… When the prayer you pray brings you to the throne of God and yet you never leave your seat…

God is making space, the Pageant is passing by… Let it do its work and clear a path in your own heart and your own life. – Amen.

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[1] Hebrews 4:16 c.f. Philippians 2:12