This Close

Genesis 2:7

How close is God with each of us? As close as your next breath.

That is the glorious implication of this verse—God breathed life right into the nostrils of the first person! That’s about as intimate as one can get to another. You have to be right there to breathe straight into someone’s nose. 

To have God that close is a wondrous discovery for any of us. There are so many voices telling us that God is absent, apathetic, asleep at the wheel, or simply too holy to be interested in anything to do with the world. There are still others that try to tell us that God is only interested in being Judge, full of wrath and fury as we fail to toe the line, or who happen to be somewhere outside the status quo, as if God made a great many millions of human beings simply to reject them the way a peanut examiner throws out the thousands not good enough to be M&Ms. But, no, all of those voices are mistaken—God is with us each breath.

To have God that close means we never need lose hope about much of anything. If God is breathing through us, then all that is God is that close, too, i.e., God’s love, power, creative Spirit, and redeeming grace. If all of those gifts are right at hand, then Paul was not simply gushing with hyperbolic fervor in Romans 8:31ff.—he had every reason to shout praises from the mountaintops, for he suddenly realize there was no power within the created order that could hold any ultimate sway over us in any circumstance. Keep that certainty close at hand as you watch an obligatory hour of CNN or flip through the print newspaper or any of its online cousins. In fact, get your news with your Bible open to Romans 8. As the news spills out, check the passage—what is described on TV is probably in there somewhere. Paul puts it all in its place. Paul calls us to feel the presence of God in each breath, the presence of all that power. Allow that to carry you through whatever happens to be there. There is hope.

To have God that close also means there is love overflowing for all of our interactions, connections, and meetings with other human beings, no matter where those encounters occur or between whom. That really helps as we send our littles out the door to school or to play or to a friend’s house. God is with them with love overflowing. That helps couples negotiate the turbulent waters of human relations. That love feeds the high moments when all is as it should be, but it also meets us with resurrection when things go awry. It nourishes the patience, compromise, and negotiation required at work as a bunch of people have to interact just so to get things done that need to be done. It allows for the openness to make neighborhoods home, granting us an ability to welcome one another, even as the sheer diversity of being human manifests itself with each new moving van. 

There does come a call with the breath of God, though.

As close as God is to us means so, too, is God’s call to enter covenant with him. As God gives us life, gratitude leads us to live life in response to this astounding love of God. As God shares the totality of God with us in each breath, so we should then make generosity a means by which to express our thanks for being here. This becomes a welcome gate into joy, as well, erasing any heaviness of obligation from it. Something remarkable happens to us as we become more open to one another—we find ourselves fuller and life far more enjoyable than we ever imagined it being. I run into this again and again when I am working at GAP Ministries or with folks serving the needs of others in any capacity. There is a joy in the process. We walk away knowing we were doing as we were meant to do. We walk away often with a real sense that contact was made with another human being. We see God’s breath within them, recognizing a fellow brother or sister. There is a Jewish parable I love to read over and over—

A rabbi was meeting with a few students. They were discussing the practice of morning prayer, wanting to begin their prayers when it was truly day. So the rabbi asked them, “When is it light enough to be called day?” The first student answered, “When the sun is high enough to show the leaves clearly on the trees.” The rabbi shook his head, “No.” The next student tried, “When it is light enough to see the lines on my palm.” Again, the rabbi shook his head, “No.” Troubled, the students looked all around their circle. “When I can see the whiskers on my face?” one asked. “No,” intoned the rabbi. “It is truly day when you see each person you meet as a brother or sister.”

With God’s breath in us, we can see that clearly. Each person who breathes shares the same presence, the same origin, the same Father. Act as such. Speak so.

So, we find that God’s breath is our breath. It is our life. It quickens heart, mind, and body. It fires our love, our compassion, and our thanksgiving. It is the greatest gift any of us can have.

Next time you sit to pray, try simply breathing, perhaps intoning every few breaths to keep yourself focused, “God breathes in me.” I firmly believe that can open you to a new understanding of God’s presence. It invites you to experience God here and now, anywhere, anytime. 

What a wonderful assurance to carry with us wherever we find ourselves.