Reflection on 1 Kings 19. 9-18 “the sound of sheer silence” verse12 Elijah finds himself under pressure, assailed by people who disregarded him and the voices of other prophets, who had turned against God and he is invited to watch and wait for God to communicate with him. So he sits at the entrance of a cave on Mount Horeb, a special place where encounters with the Living God had been experienced before. The unspoken and unwritten question seems to be “Where do we find God?”. Elijah’s experience shows him watching and waiting for God- a violent wind passes by, an earthquake happens and a mighty fire but God is not to be found in any of these dramatic manifestations. On that particular day as Elijah watches and waits for God he encounters God’s presence in the “sound of sheer silence” (NRSV). We find ourselves at the moment in unprecedented times. Methodists can worship in buildings if all regulations are followed, but they cannot sing. This is very unusual, especially for those of us reared on a dogma that proclaims “Methodism was born in song”. Many of us are finding it hard to envisage a service where we must wear face masks and where we cannot participate in congregational singing. I experienced this for the first time last Sunday at Willington. We gathered and the congregation wore masks, I wore a visor, I sang a solo (which is allowed) and someone else sang one but the congregation did not sing. In the mix of humanity that is the human race we are all made differently. Some people like a certain type of music, some prefer something else. As my wife reminded me- I like Radio 3 and her brother likes Radio 6. The music style could not be more different. Some of us respond to certain stimuli, others to a different set of stimuli. Most branches of the Christian tradition have singing as part of their normal diet, even though this is delivered in a wide range of styles from chanting, plainsong, gospel music, hymns in four part harmony, modern worship songs, accompanied by organs, guitars, electric keyboard, drums, and other musical instruments or perhaps just the human voice. The Society of Friends, the Quakers do not generally sing. The sit quietly and wait for God to speak to them. Perhaps the events of Coronvirus pandemic and the restrictions we are under invite us to explore different ways of being Christian, to use the words of hymns for prayer and reflection rather than for singing communally. I reminded the congregation that as Methodists we have a treasure-house of hymnody which might need raiding to rescue some long- forgotten items. I chose to sing the Hymn 450 Singing the Faith/ 540 Hymns & Psalms/ 465 Methodist Hymn Book “Open Lord my inward ear and bid my heart rejoice. Bid my quiet spirit hear your comfortable voice. Never in the whirlwind found, or where earthquakes rock the place, still and silent is the sound, the whisper of your grace….” It might be the case that we need to be reminded that whilst sometimes it is appropriate to sing loud with great gusto, at other times it is not. Although hymn books for singing have always been part of our tradition I think the Wesley’s intended them for other uses too- as tools for devotional aids to assist reflection. Perhaps we need to re-discover that use. Part of our Christian tradition includes the experience of monks and nuns in silent orders who are deeply committed to prayer and engage in their discipleship without a lot of spoken or sung words. I reminded of the story of the Breton peasant whose neighbours inquisitively asked him what he did when he went into the church to pray. “Not much” was his reply. He then told how he looked at the crucifix and experienced something profound which he described as “I look at him (Christ) and he looks at me”. Being still in the presence of God might be something we need to re-learn and rediscover. It might be we have forgotten how important this is. That image reminds me of the story told of Eric Baker (one time Secretary of the Methodist Conference) who wrote in green ink (as was his habit when something really significant was needed to be expressed) “Methodism is nothing more than a profound reflection on the all-redeeming grace of God in Christ”. It seems to strike a chord with the words of Charles Wesley in another hymn “stung by the scorpion sin, my poor expiring soul, the healing sound drinks in and is at once made whole: see there my Lord upon the tree! I hear, I feel he died for me” (Hymns & Psalms 226 v 5/ MHB 114). Notice the emphasis on (passively) looking at the scene of Christ on the cross and meditating on that. It is so very similar to what the Breton peasant practices in the story I told. If we were to step back in time to Medieval England we would find the average faithful member of the congregation participating very little in the worship that happened in their churches. The high point for them would be to see the consecrated host raised high above the head of the priest, this was a holy moment, the summit of faith’s experience, heaven on earth. I am sometimes troubled that Methodists often have their eyes firmly fixed on the book or on the screen rather than watching the liturgical action and fixing their attention on the bread and wine when participating in a Service of Holy Communion. Using all our senses in worship not just our ears is important. “See there my Lord upon the tree…”. As we journey on in these challenging times let us embrace the time and opportunity God is giving us to be quiet, to reflect, to think and to pray, and to be silent so that we listen for God’s guiding, so that we rightly discern the way we should go. If none of the hymns by Charles Wesley quoted here strike a chord with you perhaps John Greenleaf Whittier (a Quaker’s) words might StF 495/ HAP 673/MHB 669 Dear Lord and Father of mankind….speak through the earthquake, wind and fire, O still small voice of calm”. C