Conversations with St. Brown

To Elijah, the voice of God was not something he had to guess about, it was not a relic of past events, he knew the voice of God like he knew a friends. After all, his name did mean, "my God is Yahweh," and he believed that he was the last remaining worshiper of that God. However, when threatened with death by the one he once defied, he ran. He came to a mountain and searched for the voice of God. There on the mountain, Elijah witnessed great manifestations of Gods presence. He had just seen these very manifestations not to long ago. On Mt. Carmel, there was fire, and God was in it; a great storm and God was in it. But now, where was God? He was not in the great storm, or the earthquake or the fire. Elijah was trembling in the stillness of godlessness when the silence was pierced by a still small voice. And at the sound of a low whisper Elijah wrapped his face, and God was in the whisper. 

        During finals week a friend, who I call St. Brown, sat me down and said, "Does God ever speak to you?" I acknowledged that He did. St. Brown was unsure of how that happened. "But does He actually? How do you know it is not just another feeling?" It took a little while to ponder this idea, and it troubled me. Yes, I knew God spoke to me, but how would I ever explain how I felt. The voice of God is an intensely personal experience and cannot be simply put into words. St. Brown went on to say, "I have concluded that God does not speak to humanity, because of sin He cannot. In place of His voice, God has left a roadmap to lead humanity back to Him, the Bible, and by reading we will one day hear the voice of God again." How was I to explain to him that an experience with God cannot be confined to words? That until someone really experiences God, he will never understand God? 

        We all have experienced God. There is not goodness apart from God. I do not have a perfect image of God, and I do not always hear or listen to His voice. We often search in the great manifestations of life's events to hear God, but most times, He is not there. In the storms of sadness, the earth shaking moments of unexpected tragedy, or the fires of pain, we search for God; in those moments we wish to hear His voice. However, it is in the stillness of the mind, the personal indwelling of a whisper that God is often heard. Sometimes it is so quite we miss it. His voice, a whisper so low, yet a peace so sweet. How was I to explain this if St. Brown had never felt it? Sure, I have never awakened to a low voice parting the skies and talking to me. I have never heard God speaking in an empty room to me as I would hear a man speaking to me in an empty room. But God is not man, and He is not limited to the ways man communicates. 

So instead of trying to argue, I concluded with a simple line. "St. Brown, I know I hear God's voice. I am sorry you do not, but I am content. If you are at peace with where you are at with God, then stay there, but if you are not at peace, search for His voice and you will hear Him."