I was intrigued by something said in Sunday school yesterday at the Crosswalk. I knew the fact but God put it together with one of His names and His character. The thought took my breath away, literally. Tim was teaching on the Lord's supper and the meaning behind our traditions. He mentioned that Jesus suffocated on the cross. I knew that but I hadn't really thought about it. The Breath of life could breathe no more.
Jesus was the same God that in Genesis 2:7 breathed life into Adam's nostrils giving him the breath of life. Jesus was the same God who breathed the Holy Spirit into the disciples at Pentecost. Yet, He couldn't take a breath to save His own life. For me! He did it for me! For you! Why? Why wouldn't He save Himself? Why wouldn't the Holy Father send down angels to save His Son? They were poised, ready, holding their collective breath. Waiting for the command. The command that never came. As Christ was suffocating on the cross, He cried out, "why have You forsaken me?" Such anguish, such agony. And not just the physical pain but the pain of being separated from His Father for the first time and forsaken by Him. God is holy and cannot look on sin. Since Jesus became sin for us, God couldn't bear to look at Him. I see my children and at no time could I say that I don't want to look at them. The excruciating aloneness that Christ must have felt. Then, He said, "it is finished." And He breathed His last. I don't know about you but suffocation is not my death of choice. But, Christ came to earth willingly, knowing what how it was going to end. He did it so that at our rebirth, He could again breath the breath of life into us, the pneuma. The Greek word implies that it is moving or in motion. The same word can also mean spirit. The Holy Spirit moves through us, in us, and around us. I want to breath Him in and I want to breath Him out so that others can feel His breath on their faces and in their souls. Breath on me, O, Breath of Life!
