This morning in Sunday School, we were talking about In the Beginning. Mark, who knows the Bible better than any of us, said that he loves that beginning of John; it reminds him of Genesis, and it reminds him of Isaiah 40:25, “Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name.” And then Mark said something along the lines of “It’s like God was breathing out stars.”
Breathing out stars, Mark said.
We were all delighted-
the ominipotent ominscient Creator blowing out stars the way kids blow out bubbles, giggling, trying to pop them, trying to go so slow and steady to make a really, really BIG one
And then it pops.
Breathing out stars and then calling them together to sing; that would be cool.
Or it’s like God took a huge mouthful of Pop Rocks and spit them out and the Ruah turned them into stars.
Or God took a sparkler, swallowed it, and belched out the stars.
Or fireworks coming out instead of words.
The best I can manage is a little steam when I exhale on a cold day. Nothing much shimmers, but then God is a lot shimmerier than I am.
Last week I said in Sunday School that I think of God as a loving mystery, loosely bound somewhere between the Milky Way and a breath. And then Mark said that he thinks of God breathing out stars.
I don’t know what this God thing is all about, but I think it’s a mix of light and fire and gas and laughter. At least I hope it is, the God thing.