God Is

Exodus 20:3

The first commandment sets the stage—here is the inescapable starting point—there is only one God. 

Which immediately begs the question—what makes God, God?

The clue is in the introductory verses to the Ten Commandments—and introduction that Deuteronomy actually makes part of the first commandment—

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

God declares God’s uniqueness right there—I am the One who resurrected you. Now, of course, nowhere in the Exodus story will you find any overt references to resurrection as such—Jesus is still over a thousand years in the future—but God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow; i.e., resurrection is always a piece of the presence of God. In this particular case, God exercises the power of resurrection in creating a holy people, a nation of God, from the dregs of slavery—literally taking people who are the living dead and bringing them into new life and being. The rather obvious clincher in this move is that only this Being has that sort of power, ergo, only this Being can be God. 

Paul Tillich, one of the truly great minds of 20th Century theology, though, revealed an alarming propensity within human nature to lose sight of the truth of God’s uniqueness. Tillich observed that all human beings center their existence on some central core. By that core, they set the parameters for their lives. That core determines value, worth, priorities, objectives, goals, and desired outcomes. That core determines what we do, where we choose to do it, how we do it, and with whom we do it. For such an existentially vital piece of life, Tillich observed that we show a remarkable lack of judgment in setting that core, choosing again and again cores that offer no real life whatsoever or lasting help or hope in seeing us through the minefield that normal, everyday existence can be. Career, money, and even family cannot bring us the power of resurrection—of hope that is truly and surely indefatigable. Certainly hedonism, libertinism, or even rampant materialism fall short in providing any lasting meaning to our lives. Politics or lack thereof cannot assure us of lasting peace. Yet, we will set these as the center of our existence.

It has always been so; therefore, God sets the record straight right at the get-go—God alone is God. God will tolerate no rivals. God will accept no alternatives. 

It is also a human propensity to reject any such claims to absolute centrality. We revile those who claim central power or control over our lives—even God. I mean, all I would have to do preaching this morning is begin to meddle in your daily affairs, telling you what to do in all your routines and choices. The revolt would be quick and sure—Augusta might witness its first burning at the stake in 500 years! But in all seriousness, we human beings are wired to independence even as we are completely interdependent in our lives. When God asserts the divine prerogative to be the absolute core of our existence, our immediate reaction can well be an overwhelming sense of burden, weight, and being held back. God becomes a tyrant we want to overthrow. God becomes an irrepressible source of anger in laying fences around our existence. It wasn’t long before Moses ran into the revolution at the foot of Mt. Sinai—his own brother led the revolt celebrating a golden calf as god!

Well, stop, breathe, relax—God is no tyrant. God is love. God’s claim to absolute centrality is not meant to diminish us, dismiss us, or disdain us; it is meant to be our hope and salvation.

I want you to try something—breathe.

I realize that there are some who find my recent emphasis on breath prayer off-putting, perhaps strange, maybe even silly, but there is a method to my madness. Breath prayer links us directly to the life-giving power of God. In all three languages of the earliest Church (Hebrew, Greek, and Latin); the word for spirit and breath is identical—ruach, pneuma, and spiritus, respectively. We know the Latin and Greek the best because of English words like pneumonia, respiration, inspiration, or pneumatic, but they are all clear when used theologically that breath and Holy Spirit cannot be separated from one another. Where one is, the other is, as well. Hence, to breathe is to experience the intimate presence of God.

As we consciously recognize this fact, we suddenly realize that God is the inescapable source of life, granting us the gift of breathing. J. David Muyskens, a pastor in the Reformed Church of America and leading light in the recent renaissance of Christian spirituality, made a remarkable observation—the Hebrew name of God given to Moses (literally, Eh Wah, but transliterated as YHWH (yahweh)) is the same sound a baby makes as she breathes her first breaths (after yowling at the indignity of being born!). That sound continues every day of her life with every single breath—the name of God is spoken every instant. The further grace—and it is truly and wonderfully an experience of grace—is that means that God is never absent from us—never. There is no one else and nothing else in our existence that can make that absolute a claim—not even our own consciousness, for there are more times than we can count when slip from awareness of our own lives—ever roused from a daydream realizing you have no idea whatsoever happened over the last few minutes? 

God is always there. That means that all of God’s power is also always there. That means the power of resurrection is always present. That means there is no circumstance or context beyond hope. That means there is never a moment where God will intone, “Too bad, there is nothing I can do.” Rather, in Christ, we discover that God’s answer is always the exact opposite of such a despairing response—God always meets us with, “Fear not! There is so much yet to be done.”

And that is why the first commandment of all is to place God at the exact center of our existence with no alternatives. 

Do so.