What are you doing here Elijah?

1 Kings 19:9-13

New Living Translation (NLT) 

9 There he came to a cave, where he spent the night.
The Lord Speaks to Elijah But the Lord said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

10 Elijah replied, “I have zealously served the Lord God Almighty. But the people of Israel have broken their covenant with you, torn down your altars, and killed every one of your prophets. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me, too.”

11 “Go out and stand before me on the mountain,” the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 12 And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. 13 When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And a voice said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?

I was sitting comfortably in the home of a faithful sister in the Lord.   My purpose was to meditate on these words and practice silence.  Hoping to hear that gentle whisper Elijah heard.  Don't you love Elijah.  He's so brutally honest before the Lord.   I've been serving you, and let me tell you it stinks.   That's his answer to the Lord's question, "What are you doing here Elijah?"  They (the people of Israel) seek his life, the ultimate rejection despite all his work on behalf of Israel and on behalf of the Lord himself.   And they (Ahab, Jezebel and company) are clearly wrong, and he's the one exhausted, hiding in cave. Nice.

Then the Lord literally shakes him up, three times, three different ways.  Finally comes the whisper and the question again, "What are you doing here Elijah?"    Those words were haunting me this morning because I am so interested in the subject of doing and not doing and when to do the doing and how to think about the doing.  Shoot, my head is a windstorm.  Then my eyes drifted to this painting on the wall of my Jesus sister's room.

The painting is "The Storm on the Sea of Galilee" by Rembrandt van Rijn.   From my chair, I noticed first the figures in the light.  These disciples are in the rigging fervently working the sails, keeping the boat afloat, and keeping everyone safe.  They didn't know or didn't understand that Jesus was capable of stilling the sea, of erasing the danger, of eliminating the need to work so fervently and so hard.

I had to get up and walk across the room to see the figures in the back of the boat, in the shadow.   I stood there a while and had to look at the painting closely to find the face of Jesus and to notice the faces of those beseeching and questioning Jesus.  They are all gathered around looking into his face, straining to hear his voice. Art critics say that because there are fourteen figures in the painting that Rembrandt painted himself into that painting along with the twelve disciples and Jesus.  I feel as if brother Rembrandt is inviting me to do the same, and so I read Mark 6:45-52 and Matthew 11:28-30.   And I think about that day on Sea of Galilee.  

Then my eyes fall on some words I highlighted in Learning to be Comfortable with Silence by Terri Loewens.  She says about that verse in Psalm 46:10 'Be Still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth'  these words: "I looked at the verse in a number of translations.  The words 'be still' can also mean: 'That's enough! Calm down'  'Let go of you concerns'  'Stop fighting'  'Step out of the traffic and take a long, loving look at me, your High God'  'Cease striving'  'Let go'  'Relax.' "    That's what I am doing Lord.  Learning to take a long, loving look at your face.  

Later in a small gathering of sisters, the Lord drives home his new task for me.  It's like listening to the sweet chimes of my great grandmother's mantle clock. Ding. One sister reminds me of the words of a hymn: "Turn your eyes upon Jesus; Look full into His wonderful face.  And the things of this world will grow strangely dim; in the light of his glory and grace." Ding. Another sister sees a picture of Jesus and I gazing at one another. He turns and silences the voices of accusation in my head.  Ding.  Another sister remembers these words from her meditation: Let all the tumult in me cease,/ Enfold me Lord in your peace.  Then the hour with him is over.  I am overwhelmed with His love and His gentleness.

The word of the Lord was coming to me and answering my "doing" questions.  Oswald Chambers writes the "measure of the worth of our public activity for God is the private profound communion we have with Him (where) worship, waiting and work go together as demonstrated in the life of Jesus."  What are you doing here Pam?   I'm coming down from the rigging and the engineering of my own safety to the back of the boat, to see your face, and to wait for you to calm the waves, to wait for you to say, "Peace, be still."