The Sound of a Coming Reign: Faith that Works
Introduction: After the Fire, the Work
We have just witnessed one of the most dramatic confrontations in all of Scripture. The fire of God has fallen from heaven, consuming the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, the dust, and the water in the trench. The prophets of Baal have been exposed as frauds and have been justly executed at the Brook Kishon. The people have fallen on their faces, declaring, "Yahweh, He is God! Yahweh, He is God!"
In our cinematic age, this is where the credits would roll. The hero has won, the bad guys are defeated, and the day is saved. But the Bible is not a movie. The spectacular display on Mount Carmel was not the end of the story; it was the necessary prelude to the real work. The fire was the declaration of God's authority; the rain would be the demonstration of His blessing. And the space between the fire and the rain is the space where faith lives and works. The contest on Carmel was a public spectacle. The prayer for rain was a private agony.
We live in a generation that loves the fire. We love the big event, the dramatic conversion, the mountaintop experience. But we are often quite poor at the persistent, dogged, behind-the-scenes work of prayer that actually brings the kingdom. We want the victory without the wrestling. This passage teaches us that true, saving faith is not a passive spectator sport. It is an active, working, persevering force. After the enemies of God are routed, the man of God does not take a victory lap. He gets on his knees. The fire proves God is God. The rain proves God is good. And the prayer of Elijah is the hinge on which the entire affair turns.
What we have here is a master class in the relationship between God's sovereignty and man's responsibility. God had already promised the rain. In the first verse of this chapter, God said to Elijah, "Go, present yourself to Ahab, and I will send rain on the earth." The outcome was never in doubt. But God ordains the means as well as the ends. And the ordained means for the coming of this covenantal blessing was the fervent, persistent, agonizing prayer of a righteous man. This is a profound mystery, but a glorious one. God commands us to ask Him for the very things He has already promised to give us, because the asking is part of the gift.
The Text
Now Elijah said to Ahab, “Go up, eat and drink; for there is the sound of the tumult of rain.” So Ahab went up to eat and drink. But Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; and he stretched himself down toward the ground and put his face between his knees. And he said to his young man, “Go up now, look toward the sea.” So he went up and looked and said, “There is nothing.” And he said, “Go back” seven times. Now it happened at the seventh time, that he said, “Behold, a cloud as small as a man’s hand is coming up from the sea.” And he said, “Go up, say to Ahab, ‘Prepare your chariot and go down, so that the rain does not stop you.’ ” Now it happened that in a little while the sky grew dark with clouds and wind, and there was a heavy rain. And Ahab rode and went to Jezreel. But the hand of Yahweh was on Elijah, and he girded up his loins and outran Ahab unto where you enter Jezreel.
(1 Kings 18:41-46 LSB)
The Ears of Faith (v. 41)
We begin with the stark contrast between the man of God and the man of the world.
"Now Elijah said to Ahab, 'Go up, eat and drink; for there is the sound of the tumult of rain.'" (1 Kings 18:41)
Elijah speaks with absolute certainty. At this point, the sky was likely still brass. There was no meteorological evidence of a coming storm. But Elijah was not listening to the weather report; he was listening to the Word of God. Faith has ears that can hear God's promises when the world can only hear silence. Elijah heard the "sound of the tumult of rain" because God had promised it. This is the nature of faith: it is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Heb. 11:1). Elijah was living in the reality of God's promise, not the reality of his circumstances.
Notice what he tells Ahab to do: "Go up, eat and drink." After this traumatic, nation-altering event, Ahab's response is to go have a meal. He is the picture of the worldly man. His concerns are entirely physical and immediate. He is spiritually obtuse. He just saw fire fall from heaven, and his first thought is for his stomach. This is the man who led Israel into apostasy, a man governed by his appetites, both for food and for the wicked woman who was his wife. While Ahab goes to feast, Elijah goes to fight, on his knees.
The Work of Prayer (v. 42)
Ahab's response is contrasted sharply with Elijah's.
"So Ahab went up to eat and drink. But Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; and he stretched himself down toward the ground and put his face between his knees." (1 Kings 18:42 LSB)
Elijah ascends the mountain again, not for another public spectacle, but for a private travail. His posture is everything. This is not a comfortable, serene, meditative pose. This is the posture of a woman in labor. He is curled up, head between his knees, in an agony of intercession. James tells us that "The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much" (James 5:16). This is what fervent prayer looks like. It is a wrestling. It is work.
This posture signifies profound humility and intense focus. He is shutting out the world. He is blocking out all distractions. He is prostrate before the God who holds the rain in His fists. He is not passively waiting for God's promise to materialize. He is actively, strenuously, laying hold of that promise. This is a crucial lesson. Prayer is not our way of informing God of what He should do. It is our way of aligning ourselves with what He has already declared He will do, and battling in the spiritual realm to see it brought to pass on earth.
Perseverance in the Face of Nothing (v. 43-44a)
Here we see the dogged, stubborn nature of effective prayer.
"And he said to his young man, 'Go up now, look toward the sea.' So he went up and looked and said, 'There is nothing.' And he said, 'Go back' seven times. Now it happened at the seventh time, that he said, 'Behold, a cloud as small as a man’s hand is coming up from the sea.'" (1 Kings 18:43-44a LSB)
Elijah is so locked into his spiritual battle that he uses a spotter. He sends his servant to be his eyes. The first report comes back, and it is the report of our senses, the report of the world: "There is nothing." This is the great test of faith. We pray, we believe God's promise, and we look up, and we see nothing. Our circumstances mock our prayers. Our bank account mocks our prayer for provision. The doctor's report mocks our prayer for healing. The godless culture mocks our prayer for revival.
What does Elijah do? He does not question the promise. He does not adjust his theology. He does not get up and walk away. He simply says, "Go back." And he says it seven times. Six times the servant comes back with the same discouraging report: "Nothing. Still nothing. Nothing yet." And six times, Elijah stays in his agonizing posture and keeps praying. He refuses to take "nothing" for an answer when God has promised "something."
The number seven is significant. It is the number of divine completion, of covenantal perfection. Elijah is resolved to pray this thing all the way through to its conclusion. He is demonstrating what Jesus would later teach in the parable of the persistent widow. We are to pray and not lose heart. And then, on the seventh look, the breakthrough comes. But it is almost comically small. "A cloud as small as a man's hand." It is a mere puff. To the unbelieving eye, it is insignificant. But to Elijah, it is everything. It is the beachhead. It is the first sign of the coming invasion of grace. Faith does not despise the day of small things (Zech. 4:10). The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, the smallest of seeds, which grows into the largest of trees. Elijah saw the coming deluge in that tiny wisp of a cloud.
Faith in Action (v. 44b-46)
As soon as faith sees the slightest confirmation, it acts decisively.
"And he said, 'Go up, say to Ahab, ‘Prepare your chariot and go down, so that the rain does not stop you.’ ’ Now it happened that in a little while the sky grew dark with clouds and wind, and there was a heavy rain. And Ahab rode and went to Jezreel. But the hand of Yahweh was on Elijah, and he girded up his loins and outran Ahab unto where you enter Jezreel." (1 Kings 18:44b-46 LSB)
Based on a cloud the size of a fist, Elijah tells Ahab to race home before he gets bogged down in the mud of a torrential downpour. This is audacious faith. And it is vindicated. "In a little while," the sky turns black and the heavens open. God's promise is fulfilled, not with a sprinkle, but with a "heavy rain." When God's blessing comes, it comes in abundance.
But the story does not end there. The final verse is a stunning exclamation point. "The hand of Yahweh was on Elijah." This is the anointing of the Holy Spirit. And what does it produce? Supernatural strength and speed. Elijah, a man on foot, girds up his robes and outruns the royal chariot all the way to Jezreel, a distance of some 20 miles. This is not just a strange miracle; it is a profound prophetic sign. The prophet of God, empowered by the Spirit of God, is shown to be superior to the king of the apostate nation with all his worldly power. The man of faith will always, in the end, outpace the man of the world. The kingdom of God, which seems so small and insignificant, a man praying on a mountain, will ultimately overtake and overcome the kingdoms of men, with all their horses and chariots.
Conclusion: Gird Up Your Loins
This entire chapter is a tale of two mountains. On one part of Carmel, there was the public confrontation with Baal. On another, there was the private wrestling for rain. Both were essential. We must have the courage for public confrontation, to call sin sin and to challenge the idols of our age, whether they are the Baals of sexual deviancy or the Molochs of abortion. We must be willing to call down the fire.
But that public courage must be born out of private agony in prayer. We are living in a time of great spiritual drought. Our land is parched. Our culture is cracked and dry. And we are led by feckless Ahabs who are concerned with their next meal while civilization burns. The call to the church is the call of Elijah. We have the promise of God that He will send rain, that He will pour out His Spirit, that the knowledge of the glory of the Lord will cover the earth as the waters cover the sea.
Do we hear the sound of that coming rain by faith? If we do, then we must get on our faces. We must wrestle. We must be willing to pray and look, and see nothing, and pray again. We must persevere until we see that small cloud on the horizon. And when we see it, we must declare with boldness that the deluge is coming. And then, we must gird up the loins of our minds, empowered by the hand of God, and prepare to run. For the kingdom we serve is faster, stronger, and will most certainly prevail over all the chariots of men.