This week, I am retelling a favorite story from the Bible's book of First Kings.

After demonstrating that his God is for real, in contrast to the god Baal, the prophet Elijah flees Jerusalem to hide in a cave in the wilderness. The king is determined to kill him.

God finds Elijah in that place, calls the prophet to come and stand in the entry of the cave. He refuses. I imagine him huddled in the back of the cave, clutching his knees, head buried, depressed and angry. Or perhaps he lies flat with hard stones poking into his back, staring blankly at the rock above. He refuses to move though summoned by God.

God is coming. Ahead of God, there is a huge wind that splits rocks. Elijah might think, "That wind sould be enough to shake some sense into the people." But God is not in the wind.

Then, an earthquake struck, shaking the mountain. While he would fear for his life, wondering if the cave would fall on him, Elijah might also think, "This is what Jerusalem needs to understand who is truly God." But God is not in the earthquake.

Next, there is fire from the sky. Even the cave is filled with flashes of light from heaven. Elijah might think, "That won't help. They've already seen your fire and refused to believe."

But after all that power, there is silence. Sheer and absolute silence. Nothing moves. No creature speaks. The feel of Elijah's heartbeat is like a pounding hammer when there is absolutely no other sound.

Elijah breathes in the silence. Breathes into the silence. And in that moment of stillness, he knows God is present.

Wrapping his face in a shawl, the prophet gets to his feet and goes to the entrance of the cave to encounter God.

God doesn't promise him everything is going to be okay. God doesn't tell him that he's been a good prophet. God asks, "What are you doing here?"

To me, Elijah's answer sounds sullen and angry. "I have been so energetic for you, doing everything to prove you are God, pointing out to others their mistakes, and the reward I got was a threat to my life. Now, I am the only one left who honors you." Maybe, having experienced the absolute stillness of God, Elijah hears how sulky he sounds.

God's answers (my paraphrase): "Go and anoint two new kings. And go anoint a prophet to follow you so that the people are not without a guide. And by the way, there are seven thousand good people who still honour me."

The silence becomes a direct challenge. Elijah has chosen to neglect his duty. God points out he has been blind and self-absorbed. Time to get back to work.

One of the things this story offers modern people is the moments where God is not present. God is not in the earthquake or the wind or the fire. We have engines that create wild winds, enough to lift huge airplanes. We have machinery that will crack open the earth. We can light up the cities so that the stars are masked.

We will not find direction and purpose in the power that we have invented. We will not find the purpose of God in the instruments of destruction or construction, healing or restoration that we will create in the future.

Silence and stillness are hard to find in our modern world. Noise and busyness are incessant. There are practices that help calm the mind. There are places away from ordinary life where we find stillness. A cup of tea warming our hands by a fireplace can bring a quiet that helps to centre us. Important as things that re-centre us are, God is not in the practice or the cup of tea. God is present in the beautiful place that stills our heart, of course, but is still Other.

After the stillness, Elijah is sent back to work. He is sent to appoint new leaders for the people. He is sent to appoint a new prophet so that when he is gone, there will be someone to teach the people. He is not left to enjoy the silence that helped him to see himself clearly. I wonder how he will find the silence of God once he is back in the city.

Cathy Hird lives on the shore of Georgian Bay.