What do the actors Charleton Heston, George Burns and Morgan Freeman all have in common? They have all played God in the movies. At least they provided the voice of God. Others have taken on this same task in film or on television. Each brings a unique distinctive, often authoritative quality to the interpretation of God’s voice.
There are not many in human history who actually heard the voice of God. We have an interesting incident in the Gospel of John in which God spoke to Jesus from heaven in response to Jesus’ prayer. The Gospel tells us that the crowd who was there and heard said it had thundered. And that seems consistent with what we would expect the voice of God to sound like. A very loud thunder.
I have to think that God’s got a big, booming voice! Now, I don’t know this for sure, but I have to think that when God awakened the cosmos at the dawn of time and said, “Let there be light” that it was a thunderous sound. And when God spoke to this people onMount Sinaito deliver the law, his voice made the people fear and tremble. And on the last day, the judgment voice of God will shake the earth. There’s no limit to the volume and intensity and impact of God’s voice. It can knock your socks off.
We usually don’t think of God’s voice as a little whisper. Yet today in the Scriptures God speaks in a gentle whisper. When his people were in fear and crisis, he spoke to them quietly in a still small voice. This is how he delivered good news and assured them of his presence.
In our Old Testament reading for today, we find the prophet Elijah at the end of his rope. He is on the run from King Ahab and Queen Jezebel who are out to get him – to kill him. Elijah is ready to give up. He says to God, 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.”
Poor guy. Elijah is not in a happy place. And so, like all of us, when he was down and out he kept to himself. He hid out in a cave, waiting and wondering what was to become of him. When God promised to speak to him, Elijah listened. When a great wind blew through the cave, Elijah couldn’t help but take notice. But God was not in the wind. A great earthquake came, but we are told that God did not speak to Elijah in the earthquake. There was a fire, but no message from God. Finally, there was sheer silence and in the quiet of that moment, God spoke in a gentle whisper – the still small voice as other translations put it. And there was God. And Elijah was ready to listen.
This silent, gentle whisper — this still, small voice – this word became flesh and entered our world as a man; a man who walked out into the storm raging with the rush of winds and the loud crashing of waves and spoke to a fearful band of fisherman. “It is I. Do not be afraid.” In our Gospel, the disciples got in a boat without Jesus and went to the other side of the lake, where they encountered a storm. And Jesus came right in the middle of the noisy commotion and reassured them with his voice, “It is I. Do not be afraid.”
Many popular contemporary Christian song emphasizes the bigness – the loudness of God:
How Great is Our God
Our God is an Awesome God
God of Wonders
My God is so big
These are songs of praise and worship and what they say is absolutely true and biblical. God is big. And loud. And great and huge. And awesome. And we are called to praise him for who he is. But I’m not convinced that the loud, awesome thunderous voice of God is really what we need to hear most of all.
If you are in trouble, you don’t need big and you don’t loud. When you are afraid, you don’t need to be reminded that God is huge and that in the big scheme of things your little crisis is just a blip on the cosmic radar screen. That’s true, but it’s certainly not much comfort. When you are alone with your own anxious thoughts and nagging doubts, you don’t need to wonder if the big awesome God of the universe can actually see you or hear you. No, when you are hunkered down in a cave; if you are hanging on for dear life on the other side in a boat being beaten down by winds and waves, you need a friend. You need peace. You need a word of hope. You need an intimate voice that invites you to trust.
That’s what Jesus delivers with his gentle whisper. And what he says is guaranteed by he did. What he offers is backed up by what he accomplished. When he says, “It is I” we understand that to mean the personal God who revealed his love on the cross. When he says, “Do not be afraid,” it’s coming from the one who stomped out fear by his death and resurrection. He doesn’t need to shout, because he is the only one who can say, “I’ve already been there. I endured your pain; I felt your suffering. I know you. Not just because I made you, but because I became one of you.” His voice is a human voice – and it is the voice of God.
We know where this voice is found. We hear this voice when we hear that our sins are forgiven. We hear this voice in the promises of Scripture that say “don’t be afraid.” We hear this voice around this table as Jesus says, “This is me. This bread, this wine – this is me, for you.” We hear this voice whenever we come to him and simply pray, “Lord save me.”
A family in our neighborhood lost their home and many of their earthly possessions in a house fire a couple of weeks ago. You may have read about it the paper. Lightning struck their house through the chimney in the middle of the day, hit their gas line and sent flames out of the house 10 -15 feet high. We were not home at the time – thankfully neither were they – but others said it sounded like a roaring wind. Emergency vehicles and workers from around the community came to help fight the noisy fire.
Shortly afterwards I was walking the dog alone past their house and saw them – mom and dad and their little girl sitting in the yard – surrounded by the yellow fire scene tape that encircled their home. I did my best to offer some encouragement and whatever help we might be able to give them as they dealt with this tragedy. I’m not sure that really did much good. But I am sure that one voice can offer what no one else can. Only Jesus’ voice can rescue us from the noisy destructive forces around us that threaten to dampen our spirit, steal our joy, overwhelm us with their sound and fury, and drive us to the breaking point.
When your problems start making too much noise, there is a gentle whisperer who can take away your fear. Whether you are the calm side of the lake or the other side where the storms rage, whether you are hiding out in the cave or ready to do the next thing, the still small voice of Christ will penetrate any distraction with unwavering truth, with a personal intensity, and with very good news.
