In Him We Live

Acts 17:28

“For in Him we live and move and have our being.”

Some Scriptures invite us to reconsider not only what we believe about God,

but where we believe ourselves to be in relation to Him.

We can become accustomed to language that places God somewhere beyond us.

We seek Him.

We draw near to Him.

We ask Him to come.

We wonder where He is when life becomes difficult.

And yet, standing in Athens, speaking to people with very different understandings of God,

Paul says something extraordinary:

“In Him we live and move and have our being.”

Not simply:

He is near us.

But:

In Him.

Perhaps we have never existed outside the Presence we have been trying so hard to find.

The Breath Within the Words

The Greek begins with a very small word:

ἐν — en
in

Paul says:

ἐν αὐτῷ — en autō
in Him

It can be easy to move quickly past those two words to the more memorable words that follow.

But perhaps we should linger here.

In Him.

Paul has just told his listeners that God is “not far from each one of us.”

Then he tells them why.

Our relationship to God is not being described merely in terms of physical distance.

Our entire existence unfolds in Him.

Before we take another breath:

in Him.

Before we understand anything:

in Him.

Before we succeed or fail:

in Him.

Before we manage to feel His Presence:

in Him.

His nearness does not begin with our awareness of it.

Perhaps encounter is sometimes less about bringing ourselves into God's Presence

and more about awakening to the Presence in which we already live.

We Live

The Greek word translated “we live” comes from:

ζάω — zaō

It means to live, to be alive, to have life.

Paul begins with life itself.

In Him we live.

Our life is not presented here as something occurring independently of God

while He watches from somewhere beyond us.

Life itself is taking place within Him.

The ordinary life.

The making-breakfast life.

The driving-to-work life.

The sitting-in-the-garden life.

The laughing life.

The grieving life.

The uncertain life.

The days when God feels wonderfully close

and the days when we cannot feel Him at all.

Still:

In Him we live.

Perhaps there is no division between the places we call sacred

and the places we call ordinary quite like we imagined.

If our living is happening in Him,

then even the ordinary ground beneath our feet

can become a place of encounter.

We Move

Then Paul says:

κινούμεθα — kinoumetha
we move

It comes from κινέω — kineō, meaning to move, set in motion, stir.

There is something beautiful about the progression.

We don't merely exist statically within God.

We move in Him.

Every step.

Every unfolding.

Every changing season.

Every movement from what has been toward what is becoming.

Sometimes movement feels clear and purposeful.

At other times we may feel as though we have lost our bearings completely.

But perhaps Acts 17:28 gives us another way of seeing movement.

We are not moving toward a distant God.

We are moving within Him.

We may not know where a particular road leads.

We may not understand what is changing.

We may not yet recognise what is being formed.

But our movement has not carried us outside of Him.

There is nowhere along the journey

where His Presence ceases to be the environment of our lives.

We Have Our Being

And then comes perhaps the most expansive phrase of all:

ἐσμέν — esmen
we are

Our English translations often render this beautifully as:

“we have our being.”

The Greek itself is wonderfully simple.

We are.

In Him we live.

In Him we move.

In Him we are.

Our existence itself is held within God.

That means our relationship with Him

begins somewhere much deeper than our performance.

Before anything we accomplish.

Before anything we understand.

Before anything we can offer.

We are.

And our being is already occurring in Him.

Perhaps this is one of the deepest places of rest.

We don't have to earn our way into the Presence of God.

We awaken to the One in whom we already live.

What Might This Look Like in Our Lives?

Perhaps this Scripture begins to change the question.

Instead of:

“How do I get closer to God?”

we might ask:

“How might I recognise the God in whom I am already living?”

Instead of:

“Where is God in this?”

perhaps:

“How might His Presence already be holding me here?”

Instead of separating our lives into moments when we are consciously spiritual

and moments when we are simply getting on with the day,

we might begin noticing Him within the ordinary rhythms of being alive.

While making tea.

Walking outside.

Working.

Resting.

Creating.

Talking with someone we love.

Sitting alone.

Standing in uncertainty.

Perhaps none of these moments are interruptions to our spiritual life.

Perhaps they are our life with God.

We don't continually step in and out of Him.

In Him we live.
In Him we move.
In Him we are.

An Invitation to Encounter

Take a moment and notice where you are right now.

Not where you wish you were.

Not where you think you should be.

Simply:

Here.

What changes if you allow yourself to consider that this very moment is happening in Him?

You might gently sit with these questions:

Where have I been trying to find a God who is already near?

Are there parts of my ordinary life I have considered separate from encounter with Him?

What might change if I began to recognise those places as occurring within His Presence too?

And perhaps the deepest question:

What would it feel like

to stop trying to enter His Presence

and simply become aware

that I am already held within it?

There is nothing we need to manufacture.

Simply notice what arises.

A Simple Practice

Wherever you are, become aware of your body for a moment.

Feel your feet against the ground.

Allow your shoulders to soften.

Notice your next breath without trying to change it.

And quietly:

In Him I live.

Take another breath.

Notice that even this small movement of your body is happening here.

In Him I move.

And then allow yourself simply to be.

No prayer to perform.

No experience to create.

No particular feeling required.

In Him I am.

Stay there for a few moments.

Live.

Move.

Be.

And perhaps allow this one quiet recognition to remain:

I was never trying to find my way into His Presence.

I was awakening to the Presence in which I have always been held.