The weather these past weeks has offered us audio/visual aids to accompany today’s readings.  First we have Elijah withdrawing to his cave to figure out what it was God was calling him to.  Strong, heavy wind, earthquake and fire met him as he listened to God’s orders to step outside for the message.  We’ve had our own thunderbolts and fiery lightnings and even what seemed like the earth shaking in the midst of the summer storms that tried to break our recent intense heat waves.  We can imagine the power of such a display, surely evidence of God’s presence.  But for Elijah, God was not in any of those things.  Where WAS God, then?  Clearly God planned to communicate with Elijah.  After all, he had called him forth for just that purpose. 

Our translation of the manner in which God ultimately chose to speak to Elijah was of “a tiny, whispering sound.”  Peaceful it seems, easier to deal with, not so threatening.  But a more accurate translation from the original tells us that God chose to communicate in a “thundering silence.”  No wonder Elijah hid his face in his cloak as he went to hear God’s message.  There’s nothing very inviting about a chasm of soundlessness at the door of one’s cave.  What was that all about?  What did that mean?  At least thunder and fire and earthquake have some dimension.  But a God who shows power in ways one can’t get hold of, is a God even more terrifying.  When Elijah listened, what message did he hear?  When he spoke, if he dared to do that, did his words fall on anything?  Did he experience anyone there to hear him?  Did he only hear himself talking, and to what, to whom?  If he didn’t speak and just waited for some word from God, did the thundering silence around him echo the thundering silence in himself?

We also have a stormy scene in the Gospel.   In the midst of their storm, the disciples cried out in fear when they saw what appeared to be a ghost.  At least, unlike with Elijah, there was some shape and size, if ghostly, to the one coming to meet THEM.    And it turned out to be Jesus, a familiar companion whose voice they recognized, despite his ghostly appearance.  And besides, he spoke comfortingly to them. “Take courage.  It is I.  Do not be afraid.”  Peter especially took heart at this.  “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you upon the water.”  That was taking courage, all right!  And Jesus responded simply “Come.”  We know what happened next.  Peter’s courage gave out, founded on doubt as it was: IF it is you.  Jesus asked Peter, “Why did you doubt?”  Once back in the boat, Peter must have asked himself the same question.  But as it turned out, things became peaceful again.  Clearly, he had had no cause to distrust this Jesus who called him forth. 

Elijah, too, finally heard from the God of the thundering silence.  Tired and discouraged and perhaps once doubting, too, he picked up his life and looked to the future.  He went back the same way he had come to this decision place and he anointed Jehu as king and Elisha as his companion and successor. Peter, too, returned to the boat and, with his companions, gave homage to Jesus who had answered their frightened, nearly despairing cries for help and his own temporary doubting.  While both Elijah and Peter had faced God alone, they both seemed to find that conviction and courage and trusting peace came when they joined with others and moved on in companionship.

And in Paul’s letter we read not only about the joy of doing just that, of truly giving self to join with others in finding God’s answers.  He also writes eloquently of the pain, “the constant anguish of it,” he says.  All that he shares with his fellow Israelites in history and tradition and dedication has led to a fulfillment that separates him from them.  He has followed their common story to a conclusion he doesn’t share with them.  He almost seems to wish it could be otherwise.  But in searching for the God who would fulfill their common longing, he has been led to conclude what they do not conclude.  Surely, a community search can have agonizing consequences.  His did.

What does all of this add up to?  Perhaps different things for different ones of us.  Perhaps we are drawn to the patience, finally rewarded, of Elijah’s waiting in thunderous silence.  Perhaps we are drawn to Peter’s courageous trust and, despite some doubting, Jesus’ strong and outstretched hand rewarding that initial confidence.  Maybe we are drawn to the suffering caused by Paul’s commitment to the journey with others which can sometimes lead to conclusions that profoundly differ. 

Or perhaps it adds up ultimately to openness, acceptance, and compassion for one another, whoever we may be and wherever we are, as we search to listen to God.