It is understandable that we expect God to speak to the world in grand and dramatic gestures. You might envision, for example, the second coming of Christ as some kind of cataclysmic event - the skies rending and unmistakable glory overcoming the earth.

In addition, we also think of the largest events in our world - the liberation of France in WWII, the 9/11 attacks on the United States, or the Asian Tsunami of 2004 - as bearing some kind of message of reward or warning from God.

In today's first reading, the prophet Elijah is told by God to prepare himself to witness the presence of the Lord. Elijah waits. He experiences a wind so fierce it splits rocks, a shattering earthquake and a roaring fire.

"The Lord was not in the wind," we're told. Nor in the earthquake or fire. "After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak."

God did not come to Elijah in grand or dramatic fashion, but in a whisper. I don't find this story terribly comforting. I like to think I could recognize God in something as spectacular as an awesome event of human goodness, or even in a terrible catastrophe that might wake the world to its need for divine assistance. I'm not nearly as confident that I could detect the presence of God in something as light and tender as a whisper.

To hear God in a whisper, you have to be listening pretty hard. Generally, it takes much more than that to get my attention. Falling in love, the birth of a child, landing a cherished job, success at school - these are the kinds of events that are likely to bring me to my knees. Extreme pain and failure are just as likely to drive me to seek God's presence and guidance. Today's reading suggests that, basically, it should take much less than these things to move us to worship.

Perhaps I pay attention to God in times of intense pleasure and pain because I've missed the more subtle opportunities that God has given me. I miss the whispers, so God must shout. Maybe my life would be less eventful, for better and for worse, if I spent more time listening for God's voice, so I don't have to be violently redirected later on.

Those of us who are waiting for some kind of sign or message from God might be well served to tune our ears and eyes to small gestures. Rather than expect to be blown by a mighty wind to our destiny, direction might come from some seemingly insignificant event.

The life of Christ is an example of how discreetly God communicates with us. While Israel expected a Messiah that would bring military victory and command armies and nations, God sent a country preacher from, well, the middle of nowhere. Jesus was but a whisper of a man compared to Caesar, Pilate and the High Priest of Israel.

Those who refused to hear that whisper were destroyed. Those who listened rejoiced.

Bill Peatman writes from Napa. He may be reached at bptidings@yahoo.com.