Reflections on Vital Faith
January 1, 2010
by Corey Beals, member at Newberg Friends and Professor of Religion and Philosophy at George Fox University, loves to hike with his wife, Jill, and two sons.
The lights are out and I can’t see my own hand. I am groping and wondering when I might stumble into God. And then I hear the query, “Do I live in vital relationship with God?” and am asked, “Is Christ’s presence evident in my life?” Now that can be an intimidating question. Is Christ’s presence even evident to me? What does it mean to live in a vital relationship, anyway?
Well, what are my vital signs? What are my signs of life? Breathing, probably, is one sign that I’m alive, and so is the pulsing of my blood through my veins. And I read in Acts 17:25 that God has given me my very “life and breath.” Okay, but what does that mean? Did God just make my life and breath and the rest of the world like some big clock and then go on a vacation, leaving me to tick along all in God’s absence? Maybe so, since I can’t seem to see God. I read further and see that I was put on the earth so that I would “search for God and perhaps grope for him.” Well, yes, that’s me. I’m searching, even groping. But will I find God? Reading further, it says that perhaps I may “grope for him and find him.” But where? Well, I read further that “indeed he is not far from each one of us.” Well, that’s just frustrating! I don’t see him, so how can he be ‘not far’ if I can’t see him? And then I read the remarkable: “In him we live and move and have our being.” Really? Every breath? Every pulse of blood? Through my entire being? It doesn’t say out of him, or from him, but in him. Really? If that is true, then perhaps Meister Eckhart is right when he said that “God is closer to me than I am to myself.”
If my very breath and lifeblood are in God, then that is closer than I can even see. Perhaps that’s the problem. I’m trying to see that which sustains me, and the only way to see it would be to be outside of it, or to take myself out of the place God wants me. And even then, if I took out my blood and put it in a bag, or tried to capture my breath in a jar, that would not be capturing God’s presence. Because in him I move. The blood must be moving for me to be alive, and the breath must be moving in and out of my lungs, for it to be breath. Life blood cannot be reduced to the blood cells we extract, nor can breath be reduced to oxygen and carbon dioxide.
So perhaps the clue is that I don’t look to ‘see’ God—that is, to ‘understand’ in the way that I say, “I see what you mean.” But perhaps the clue is in groping in the dark, turning my attention to every breath I take. Thomas Kelly writes,
“There is a way of ordering our mental life on more than one level at once. On one level we can be thinking, discussing, seeing, calculating, meeting all the demands of external affairs. But deep within, behind the scenes, at a profounder level, we may also be in prayer and adoration, song and worship, and a gentle receptiveness to divine breathings.”
In the midst of every breath I take, God is present whether I ‘feel’ it or not. The vital life involves my receptiveness or attention to the sacred presence of God in every breath I take, and in every breath that my neighbor takes.
But how do I live this vital life? How can I be present to God’s intimate presence? I am far from practicing the constant presence of God, but the single practice that has moved me deeper into this life of divine breathing is an ancient Christian practice called the breath prayer. Breath prayers are called such because they are short and they are meant to be said with or under every breath. The one I practice is the one first spoken by the repentant tax collector in Luke and that has been used by Christians for centuries since—that is, the Jesus Prayer. The Jesus Prayer is just this: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.” I simply say (or I mouth it or say in my head), “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God” as I inhale, and then say “have mercy on me” as I exhale. And then I do it again, and again. I try to do it as often as I can, and will even pray for others by saying their name instead of ‘me’ in the prayer.
I may say or think that God is present, but it’s another thing to convince my entire being of that fact, and saying the Jesus Prayer helps my lungs and veins be more fully present the presence that is more present than I am to myself. I grope. I breathe. I find. I forget. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.
Queries for Discussion:
- What sort of spiritual practice or discipline helps you be more attentive to the presence of God? (It would be great to hear some examples and share about this together).
- Have you tried a “breath prayer” before? Was it helpful for you?
- In what ways do you experience vital relationship with God?
- How is Christ evident in your life?
Friends,
Interesting post. For me, the presence of God is more tangible and less illusive than what you describe here. This doesn’t make me more spiritual than you, just different. Jesus Christ is most alive to me when I am being Him to people and letting others live His life, love, instruction and correction back to me.
Some days I spend money on, or give money to people God leads me to come alongside. Some days I listen to someone’s story and offer responses as led by Christ to do so. For me prayer is like breathing, so I get the breath prayer instruction here. But my fear is that this whole approach is too mechanical, too cerebral, and not practical enough for me to really connect with.
I’m all for thinking, but not at the sake of doing. Most of us don’t live in our heads. Our heads and hearts are connected, but both must follow Jesus in the practical day-to-day stuff of life. Thanks for sharing your experience. It just seems to be so very different than mine. To stumble into Christ I merely need to open my eyes. He is my God and I love Him. And He is not hiding from me. Yes, life has distractions. But they do not closet God from me. Rather, I must choose to look at them through God rather than at God through them. Godspeed.
read.think.pray.live.
Gregg
Perplexing response. My experience of God’s presence as breath is that this includes what you mentioned and does not exclude the tangible or the practical. I experience divine presence in and through other people–other breathing people, and this is very concrete. And the breath prayer is just one way of reminding my whole body (not just my head) that Christ is fully present in every conversation, every interaction, every action, every breath.
I agree that a purely cerebral approach is insufficient and that it is not fully living (see my point about not relying too much on sight–on reason). But the breath prayer has helped me become more EMBODIED and less cerebral. I breathe with my whole body and the Jesus Prayer helps me get out of my head into my body–it helps remind me that Jesus is all around me, that he is in our midst.
This very short piece of writing was not meant to be an exhaustive treatment on the presence of God (or even on all of MY experiences with the divine presence). I merely offered it as brief description of one experience in one time in one place and one practice that helped me move into a fuller awareness of that experience in that space and time.
Are there other people like me who sometimes forget that we are surrounded by the Presence of God? What practices help remind your body and soul that God is very near?
Corey
Friends,
Perplexing? Ya, I get that. I get perplexed a lot by issues of faith, life and their interweaving. I guess this is why email comments seldom suffice. Nothing can replace an actual conversations. My words here are not any different than the words of experience Corey offered. They’re only a slice of the whole, a glimpse at the larger, and a peek at the inside of a heart, a mind, and an adventure. But maybe that’s why dialoguing in a one-dimensional, non-face-to-face format like blogging or emailing can only ever be a baby-step part of how we share the specifics of our faith walks with one another.
I’m not that unlike you Corey – a head and heart inextricably tied together in the experiences of life and faith – a body longing for both my senses and my intellect to reveal God to me and to those who I know and bump into along the way. Just different descriptors. I’ve never expected a single article to encapsulate someone’s spherical perspective on their life, their credo, or their Jesus experience. No harm, no foul.
Maybe I don’t forget that I’m surrounded by the Presence of God in the ways you do, but I’m not suggesting that this is because I’m either more enlightened or evolved. Just different. Like you or unlike you, my questions have more to do with my inability (reluctance?) to bring myself fully and honestly to God, than about my inability (reluctance?) to sense God’s presence most fully and consistently revealed to me.
However, in my experience, I’m the broken, hiding, elusive one, not God. And it’s me, not God, who is the one most often dodging, covering, avoiding, eluding, hiding, pretending, running, protecting, escaping, averting, evading the holy potency of a love relationship with God.
Good night to you my “down Meridian Street” neighbor who has turned his old corner house into a home, and his heart and mind into the dwelling place of Jesus Christ and His elaborately simple plans to turn the world upside down. Godspeed.
read.think.pray.live.
Gregg