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Sound of Silence

"Sound of Silence"

1 Kings 19: 1-15


Once, there was a Prophet who lost his words. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. All he can hear is the sound of silence, his own. Now, up to this moment, Elijah has a whole lot of words! He rails against hypocrisy! He preaches and pleads and persuades and implores people to stop worshipping false gods, to cease bowing down before cunning, tantalizing idols. There are so many false gods, even today. So many temptations, addictions: technology, shopping, drugs, money, working too much, over-consumption, war, even; a global village whirling, spinning away from God.

Just like the old song says, from Simon and Garfunkel: "the people bowed and prayed, to the neon God they made. And the sign flashed out its warning ... the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, tenement halls." Elijah stands on shoddy levee walls in New Orleans, and preaches. He perches on the walls of polar ice caps, melting, dripping, slipping, sliding into a rising sea. He stands at the never-ending wall that is the Vietnam Memorial. Elijah takes his pulpit, wherever he can find it. And he uses it. Simon and Garfunkel again, about Elijah: "Fools, he said, you do not know/Silence like a cancer grows./Hear my words that I might teach you,/Take my arms that I might reach you./But his words like silent raindrops fell,/And echoed/In the wells of silence."
Elijah has a way with words ... he uses them to call people home, to God. God NEEDS people like Elijah! God appoints Elijah Prophet: ‘Speaker of God's House.' It sounds like a honorary title, but, really, it can be an impossible task. It's a job description beyond belief, a career path with no discernable trajectory; it's a recipe, quite frankly, for burnout. There are so many idols, neon Gods, and Jezebel comes in so many different shapes and sizes, with her color-coded terror warnings, her well-timed threats. Today, just when Elijah is fresh off a smashing victory, Jezebel threatens his life. And he crumbles. Elijah wilts like hot lettuce in the desert sun. Dry, parched, he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. The ‘Speaker of God's House' has lost his words.

On Memorial Day, last spring, Cindy Sheehan published a public letter of resignation. Bereaved Mother turned activist, she said she could no longer be a public voice of protest against the war in Iraq. Her letter was painful to read, full of bitterness and betrayal, raw wounds and grief that never had a chance to heal. She said she could not redeem the loss of her son; she lost faith in the American people, in our silence; silence "like a cancer grows". This, too, is the story of a prophet who lost her words. Sometimes the cost of discipleship is very high. Prophets like Elijah, like Cindy Sheehan are human, they are earthen vessels, and they can crack when what they carry inside is too much. Sometimes we need to lay our burdens down. I read Cindy Sheehan's letter on the website "commondreams.org" and there were comments posted, from people everywhere. One of the postings said: "No woman is required to save the world by destroying herself." "Rest," said the blogger. Rest.

Elijah runs away from Jezebel; from God. He runs away from everything and everybody that gave his life meaning. He runs away to the wilderness, hurls himself face down in the dirt, and wants to die. When the demon of despair takes up residence inside, pain chokes not only our voice, but hope. Haven't we all been there, hit that particular bottom, tasted that raw earth? Do you remember Jesus, face down, in the Garden of Gethsemane? Do you know ANY prophet who hasn't tried to run away from God's call? The fire in Elijah, the passionate fire in the place his words come from, is burned out. And so, people of faith, is this the end of the story? Or is it, perhaps, where the real story begins?

Elijah wants to die, but God won't let him. God needs Elijah, his passion and his fiery voice. God's wisdom knows: deep and twisting valleys of spirit are in fact fertile crescents, rich soil; new life, the phoenix will rise. God knows, as poet Mary Oliver says: sometimes "the only life you can save" is your own. Elijah sleeps, his dreams troubling and complex in the dark night of his soul. Maybe, when we need God the most, this is when God comes to us, tells that demon of despair to leave town. God, as an angel, comes to Elijah. God the angel wakes Elijah, bringing hot cake, tells him to eat. Twice. Sleep and food, darkness and silence are healing. Healing is mysterious. It is God's gift; God's initiative.

Does Simon and Garfunkel's song, ‘The Sound of Silence,' hold any special meaning for you? They could be singing about Elijah, that night! "Hello, darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk to you again. Because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence." Elijah rests and heals. The sound of silence has a different quality now, for silence is also a place of renewal, vision restored, hope re-awakened. Mary Oliver could be describing Elijah that night: "little by little, the stars begin to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there is a new voice which you slowly recognize." The prophet begins to listen, in a new way. Elijah recognizes a new voice in the silence, a voice deep within himself, a holy companion who will never abandon him. And he knows it is time to get up.

Elijah arises, and goes to the mountain, where again he experiences the presence of God. Now, often when God makes an appearance, in Hebrew scripture, there are pyrotechnics, exhibitions of shock and awe. But today, as Elijah stand there, we have wind, we have earthquake, we have fire - but God is NOT in wind, or earthquake, or fire. No, God is in the sound of silence that follows. King James: "still small voice." NRSV: "the sound of sheer silence." Original Hebrew: "a sound of fine silence." What IS the sound of silence? Silence is not an empty sound, but a full and rich sound, pregnant with possibility, filled with animating energy.

I wrote a poem once called "After Amen," trying to capture the sound of silence at the end of spoken prayer, a moment when there is a lingering presence; you feel energy right there. What IS the sound of silence? The moment after a baby is born, before its first cry? Is it the silence between breaths when someone is dying, when we sit there transfixed, watching, waiting, not knowing which breath is last? Silence on the bookends of life. Silence is a place on the threshold of mystery. In silence, we meet God; we are changed.

After this silence, God says to Elijah, "what are you doing here?" In other words: Get back to work! The world is calling you, Elijah: idolatry, racism, sexism, homophobia, ecological collapse. Where IS the prophet's voice? Elijah goes back to his ministry; somehow, he is healed. Deep and twisting valleys of our spirit are, indeed, fertile crescents; rich soil. Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane, in the silence of prayer, accepted his call. Cindy Sheehan spoke last weekend in DC, before 100,000 people. Elijah finds his voice. But he knows now it is not his voice alone, but God's voice, speaking through him. We are earthen vessels, and the treasured voice is God's, echoing through us. If we think we speak alone, we will crack, burn out, lose our voice. If we learn it is God who speaks through us, then we will tend our earthen vessels; we will last, and we will speak, and we will shine.

Elijah speaks to us, does he not? As I enter this community of faith, I am full of curiosity about who you are. What spirit animates you? Are you acquainted with the sound of silence, with God's voice? Do you know how to create a circle of safety, love one another into wholeness? Do you have wisdom to listen, to hear one other into speech? In your midst, can a prophet find his voice once again, reclaim her passion for ministry? Do you have the courage to heal and call forth in one other Elijah's prophetic voice, and set it loose in our world? This world desperately needs churches, people with prophetic vision, with compassionate, wise and courageous voices, like you. Amen.