Monsignor Enrique Díaz Díaz shares with Exaudi readers his reflection on the  Gospel of this Sunday, August 9, 2026, entitled:  “The God of Silence” .  

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1 Kings 19:9, 11-13:  “Stay on the mountain, for the Lord is about to pass by.”

Psalm 84:  “Show us, Lord, your mercy”

Romans 9:1-5:  “I could wish that I myself were cut off from Christ, if it would be for the good of my brothers.”

Matthew 14:22-23:  “Command me to come to you on the water”

We are accustomed to the great theophanies of the Old Testament where God manifests himself amidst thunder, lightning, smoke, and seismic activity. Elijah, the prophet of lightning and thunder, the prophet of fire, the warrior prophet who destroys idols, longs to draw near to God. He awaits him impatiently, seeking him in the spectacular and magnificent signs where he has always found him. But the prophet, who has spoken so much of God, must now discover and “experience” God. To his surprise, he finds that the true God is not the one who conquers with the sword, not the one who slaughters the four hundred and fifty prophets of false gods, not arriving in the hurricane-force wind that splits mountains and shatters rocks, not making himself present in earthquakes or fire… he arrives in the whisper of a gentle breeze… in the silence that the heart can perceive, in the intimacy of his soul, in the depths of his being… there, ever new and surprising, the Lord arrives. In the murmur of a soft silence, the Lord speaks. Perhaps it is to overcome our deafness that God doesn’t shout at the top of his lungs, but with a gentle whisper heals our ears so that we become accustomed to hearing him in silence. Then, like Elijah, we will respectfully cover our faces, our false notions of God, and prepare ourselves to listen to him.

Elijah emerges from the cave transformed. Now he can speak of God, no longer shouting and invoking fire from heaven, but in a low voice, whispering gentle words that do not profane the mystery. From then on, the tone and style of his testimony change completely; it becomes discreet, delicate, less ostentatious, without losing its energy and truth. His testimony has the power of God’s silence. Yes, the silence of the lover who has a thousand things to say and prefers to say them in silence. Silence, in the language of love, is message and communication. And this is a new face of God for many of us who crave resounding miracles, intransigent fundamentalisms, and categorical pronouncements. Saint Paul, in one of those mystical outbursts, delves into the depths of his conscience to discover, in the light of the Holy Spirit, all the pain caused by the negativity of his brothers. He completely changes his condemnatory attitude and is willing “even to be cut off from Christ if it means the good of his brothers.”

At the beginning of this passage, Jesus also compels his disciples to leave the crowd after the multiplication of the loaves. He doesn’t allow them the noise of triumphalism, nor does he expose himself to the allure of recognition. He sends them out to sea, while he seeks solitude on the mountain to encounter God, his Father, alone. For to listen to God, just as to listen to any person, requires respect, acceptance, and the capacity to listen. It is a slap in the face to a friend when we leave them speechless. It is irreverence to God when we prefer our own noise and don’t give him the space or respect he deserves. Of course, welcoming God involves the risk of having to change our attitudes and our fundamentalisms that sacrifice truth and our relationship with the true God for the sake of our own security. How often these fundamentalisms turn into aggressive violence and the elimination of those who don’t think like us! To listen to God is to place our security in him and open ourselves to our brothers and sisters, who also become the face of God. The certainty of God’s love and of love for God, far from making us intransigent, leads us to the utmost fidelity to Him combined with the utmost capacity to welcome those who are different, and to fraternal equality.

Unlike the peace and communication Jesus brings, the disciples are subjected to the storm’s battering and the head-on winds. They are agitated, and the darkness of night intensifies their fear. With the dawn comes Jesus, and with him, after the initial confusion, comes peace, tranquility, and harmony. His comforting words must be heeded : “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”  And now, in a state of trust, he accepts Peter’s challenge to allow him to walk on water. Jesus even grants this request, but when Peter walks on the water, he loses his sense of security and sinks, receiving Jesus’ rebuke:  “You of little faith!”  For a relationship with the Other, for a relationship with Jesus, one must abandon all self-assurance and establish a complete and trusting relationship, opening one’s arms and placing oneself in God’s hands.

This story contains a lesson for the Christian community of all times, urging them to approach the encounter with Jesus with openness and courage, to accept the risks of dialogue with God, and, feeling his presence, not to waver or be afraid in the face of the difficulties that assail them. Like Peter and the other disciples, we feel the strong winds that rock our boat and shake our certainties. They provoke fears, and we are on the verge of shipwreck. Our temptation is to seek our security and not listen to God’s “loving silence,” not take refuge in the hand that Jesus extends to us. Let us draw near, let us discover this manifestation of Jesus who first draws near to the hungry crowd and then comes in search of those frightened and disoriented people. May he transform our tormented night into a dawn of peace and joy. Will we be able to discover God’s loving silence? How can I make room for his message today? What are my attitudes of listening? What does this encounter commit me to?

Lord Jesus, who makes yourself present in the midst of tempests and storms, extend your open and loving hand to those who are drowning in their noise, their certainties, and their selfishness. Amen.