Many of us remember the innocent game of side-stepping the cracks on a sidewalk as kids. As kids, we see the cracks as something to avoid. As adults, however, we understand that the spaces between the concrete slabs of a sidewalk play a crucial role in the path’s integrity. Without the space, the expansion and contraction of the concrete wrought by the weather would quickly break the sidewalk. Without the cracks, the path would quickly disintegrate as it heaves under the pressure. The potholes that emerge in spring and the reports of pavement buckling in the summer prove the point. Where there is no space, there is no room to breathe. With no room to breathe, eventually things start falling apart.

Our first reading and our Gospel can remind us that we find the space to encounter God primarily in silence. That said, we need courage to enter into silence.

We hear how Elijah climbed Mount Horeb and encountered the Lord. Once we realize that Mount Horeb is also known as Mount Sinai, we soon find ourselves in a familiar place.

Mount Sinai plays a prominent role in Israel’s journey out of slavery into freedom. It is the mountain that Moses ascended and encountered the Lord. The Book of Exodus tells us the harrowing scene of Moses being engulfed by God’s presence. While the rest of the Israelites were instructed to stay at the base of the mountain (Ex. 19:12), what they witnessed would be enough to keep them away on its own. The air reverberated with a loud trumpet blast, the earth shook beneath the Lord’s presence and smoke engulfed the mountain. It would have been a fearful sight. Yet Moses heeded the invitation of the Lord to step through the fear and experience the encounter.

The reading brings us back to the same mountain. Much of the scene appears familiar. Elijah’s encounter with the Lord is preceded in much the same way that Moses’ was. The wind dislodged stones, the mountain quaked and fire consumed the dry desert landscape. But unlike Moses’ encounter, we are told that the Lord was not in any of these. Instead, Elijah sensed the Lord’s presence in a new and deeper way; a way that may be more frightening to the modern person. Scripture tells us that there was a “tiny whispering sound.” And this subtle sound, the silence, is what caused Elijah to hide his face before the Lord.

Like Moses, Elijah encountered the Lord. But this time, in silence. On first thought, Elijah’s hiding of his face might strike us as odd. After the wind, earthquake and fire, what would be so disconcerting about silence? But then again, how often do we flee silence? Small moments, like cracks in a sidewalk, are afforded us while getting ready in the morning: the car ride to work after dropping kids off at school, during lunch in our offices, exercising, doing the dishes, etc. These spaces for silence are not much. But they give us a moment’s rest to bear the burdens of the day in a way that does not cause us to buckle. Yet so often we “fill the gaps” and crowd out these periods of silence.

When the noise passes away, when we finally find the calm middle of the frenetic swirl of life, with what are we left? Our thoughts and God. And for many of us, this can be an uncomfortable consideration.

In his collection of notes, the “Pensées,” 17th century French philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote, “I have often said that the sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.” He penned these words in a long section on “diversion,” which we seek out in those things which fill the gaps of silence but, in the end, rob us of our peace: instantaneous messaging, social media, clickbait and incessant “breaking news.” The list scrolls on and on. To be fair, these things do not actually “rob” us of our peace. A robber wrests control of something he wants by force or at least the threat of it. Instead, we freely hand over ourselves to these diversions.

But we need not. We can approach our lives differently. In a vigil for peace in April 2026, Pope Leo said, “we must not allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by the pace of a world that does not know what it is chasing.” While it is true that many of us lead very busy lives, we must be mindful of how we “fill the gaps” that could otherwise be left open for silence. Like cracks in a sidewalk, these brief moments of silence are there for a reason. They are the space given to us to breathe lest the pressures of this world cause us to buckle under the strain. They keep the pathway clear so that we can always move forward without tripping.

Elijah’s example encourages us to be brave — to be brave enough to step into silence and encounter the living God. Stepping into silence might take more courage today than it took for St. Peter to step out of the boat onto the stormy seas. But inspired by our Gospel scene, we know whom we will encounter in the silence to balance our thoughts. Though obscured by the waves, beneath the howl of the wind, we will hear a still small voice emerging from the depths, “take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” We recognize, always, that the God we encounter in silence is the God who is on our side even if he calls us into the deep.

19th Sunday in ordinary time

1 Kings 19:9a, 11-13a

Romans 9:1-5

Matthew 14:22-33