THE TINY WHISPER
NINETEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Today's first reading from 1 Kings is a favorite scripture of mine. Elijah is on the mountain of God, Horeb, where he is waiting for the Lord to pass by. A wind so strong it blows about rocks, an earthquake shakes the land, a fire passes by, and then a tiny whisper.
For folks in south Louisiana several times a year, we hold our breath and wait to see where the models predict a hurricane will come ashore. Hurricanes are rated on their wind strength. For a Category 1, you bring in items the wind can pick up and toss around and wait for the storm to pass. If a Cat 4 is coming your way, you board up the house and head inland. The wind is loud and unsettling and can be destructive.
Earthquakes shift the stability of the land that we are accustomed to being firm and solid; bridges collapse, buildings crack. This morning North Carolina saw their largest earthquake in 94 years. The news reported a lot of scared folks at the quake's epicenter as the ground moved beneath them this morning.
Cris is currently at fire camp, along with thousands of others fighting wildland fires. Wildland fires ravage the land consuming hundreds of thousands of acres of forest, sagebrush, and in some cases, homes. People are forced to evacuate their homes, and all they have not knowing what they will come home to when the fire has passed through.
No, our Lord does not come in loud, threatening, or unsettling ways. He comes to us as a babe born in a manger—a tiny whispering sound. He comes to us as an unleavened piece of bread—a tiny whispering sound. He comes to us in prayer—a tiny whispering sound.
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