The Still Small Voice: Elijah at the End of His Rope

The day before, Elijah had won. At Mount Carmel he had challenged the 450 prophets of Baal to a contest — two altars, two bulls, whichever god answered by fire is the real one. The prophets of Baal danced and cut themselves and cried out all morning. Nothing happened. Elijah soaked his altar with water three times and prayed once. Fire fell. The 450 prophets were executed. The drought he had announced three years earlier broke.

And the next day, Jezebel sent a messenger: by this time tomorrow you will be dead.

Elijah ran.

He went a day's journey into the wilderness and sat under a broom tree and asked God: It is enough. Take my life. I am no better than my fathers. Then he lay down and slept.

An angel touched him. Arise and eat. A cake of bread baked on hot stones, a jar of water. Elijah ate and lay down again. The angel came a second time: Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you. He ate and drank. Then he traveled forty days and forty nights to Horeb — the mountain of God, the place where Moses met the burning bush, where the covenant was given.

He went into a cave. God said: What are you doing here, Elijah? He poured out everything: I have been very jealous for the Lord. The Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, killed your prophets. I alone am left, and they seek my life.

God said: go out and stand on the mountain.

Wind came — a great wind so strong it broke rocks. God was not in the wind. Earthquake. God was not in the earthquake. Fire. God was not in the fire. After the fire: a still small voice. The Hebrew is kol demamah dakah — the sound of a thin silence, a voice of delicate stillness. Not the dramatic register Elijah expected. Not the power that had fallen at Carmel. Something quieter and more interior.

And Elijah wrapped his face in his mantle and stood at the mouth of the cave.