19th Sunday 2026
1Kings 19:9, 11-13; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33
That is a beautiful story of Elijah in the cave. You may be familiar with the background to it. Elijah, the prophet of God, had defeated the false prophets in a contest, and had then slaughtered them en masse, to the fury of the wicked queen, Jezebel. She, in her turn, had promised to do the same to Elijah who had fled into the wilderness.
There, he succumbed to a deep depression, but with the support of an angel, he completed the journey to Mount Horeb, where he took refuge in a cave, which tradition identifies with the “cleft in the rock” from which Moses had watched God pass by. There, Elijah had his own encounter with God.
The prelude to this meeting with God was to be the sheer turmoil of the wind, the earthquake, and the fire. This may put you and me in mind of the natural disasters afflicting so much of the world at this time, and should perhaps remind us to pray for the needs of those who suffer through them.
These, however, were not yet the presence of God, who instead revealed Himself in the sound of a low whisper, or of a gentle breeze, or as a “still small voice”, as various translations express it. How are we to interpret it? What are the implications of it?
It seems to me that we can look at it in different ways. At one level, we can say that we need to draw back from the crash-bang-wallop of life if we are truly to meet God. Life can be frenetic, noisy, relentless; blotting out the presence of God. We need to find our own “cave” in which, for a time, we can step out of the turmoil, enabling ourselves to encounter God in quiet and stillness. I would suggest that this is a daily need, and not something which can be limited to an occasional retreat, though such retreats are invaluable, if we have the opportunity to make them.
Each day, we need to carve out a time when we can be alone with the Alone, giving God the time and the space to speak to us. There is a saying “numquam minus solus quam cum solus”—“never less alone than when alone”. I had to resort to Google to identify the author who was, apparently, Scipio Africanus, the Roman general who defeated Hannibal, and who was quoted by the statesman Cicero. (It’s not everywhere that you can have a Roman History lesson along with the homily!) I do not know what Scipio had in mind, but for us it serves as a reminder that when we “go to [our] private room and shut the door” as Jesus invites us to do, God will be there with us, and we can encounter Him profoundly, provided we have the courage and the openness to do so.
There is another way in which we can view this episode. There are likely to be turbulent times in our own lives, as represented here by the wind, the earthquake, and the fire. Out of these, an awareness of God may come, as we gradually recognise that God is the still point at the heart of them. That awareness, though, may arise only with hindsight, as we ponder our experience. Where was God in those times through which we have passed? And how is He now enabling us to learn, and to grow through them?
Our Lord gives us an example of this as He walks on the sea. Again there is turmoil, as the boat is battered by the wind and the waves. From the heart of the storm, Jesus appears, the master of the situation, though it takes faith to accept that, a faith which Peter possesses only up to a point. In reality, Jesus can and does overcome everything, including Peter’s and our fear and lack of faith.
Lord Jesus, command me to come to you on the water. Enable me to recognise your presence in every situation, conquering the turmoil in my life, speaking to me from the still point at the heart of the storm, holding me up when my faith and courage fail.
