The God Who Breathes Again: Resurrection as New Creation
Reading John 20:22 through the lens of Genesis, Ezekiel, and a wounded world
This week’s Monday Intersection Bible Reading is John 20:19-31 as we prepare our hearts for the Second Sunday of Easter (Year C), coming up this Sunday, April 27.
This post is a reflection on a portion of that passage—an invitation to slow down and breathe in the Spirit that still fills locked rooms and weary lungs.
“He breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” - John 20:22
On the evening of that first Easter, the disciples aren’t celebrating. They’re not testifying or triumphing. They’re hiding. Behind locked doors, nursing wounds the world can’t see.
But then, quietly and suddenly, Jesus stands among them. The doors remain locked, but fear is no longer the only presence in the room.
And then he breathes.
1. Resurrection Breathes New Creation
John 20:22 is not just a moment of comfort. It’s a profound theological statement. When the risen Jesus breathes on the disciples and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” he enacts a re-creation. This is not a metaphor. This is John’s Gospel returning to where all things began.
In Genesis 2:7, God forms humanity from the dust of the earth and breathes into them the breath of life. The Hebrew word here is רוּחַ (ruach), which means breath, wind, or spirit. Only when the ruach enters the human do they become a living being.
Fast forward to John 20, and Jesus, God-in-the-flesh, breathes onto his disciples, saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” In Greek, this Spirit is πνεῦμα (pneuma), which, like ruach, also means breath, wind, or spirit.
This is no linguistic coincidence. John is intentionally retelling Genesis. The Creator God who once breathed life into dust is now breathing Spirit into wounded disciples. This is not just the end of Jesus’ story. It is the beginning of a new humanity.
2. The Spirit Over the Bones
The Hebrew Scriptures give us another image of this kind of breath: Ezekiel 37, the valley of dry bones.
In this prophetic vision, Ezekiel is led to a valley filled with lifeless bones, a metaphor for Israel in exile. God commands him to prophesy to the bones and to the ruach—the wind, the breath, the spirit.
“Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” - Ezekiel 37:9
And the breath came. And they lived.
This is not a story of individual resurrection. It’s the reanimation of a people. In breathing pneuma upon the disciples, Jesus fulfills Ezekiel’s vision. The resurrection is not just about one body raised from the grave. It’s about a movement being re-spired. Inspired.
The Spirit-breath of God turns scattered bones into a body, hiding disciples into a sent community.
3. Spirit Is Not Bestowed from Above, It’s Breathed from Within
Unlike in Acts 2, where the Spirit descends with wind and fire at Pentecost, John’s Gospel offers a quieter scene. There’s no shaking room. No spectacle. Just Jesus breathing.
This is intentional.
Where Luke gives us Pentecost as public empowerment, John gives us intimacy. Here, the Spirit isn’t something sent. It’s something shared. Breathed. From the mouth of the risen Christ to the lungs of fearful disciples.
This is participatory creation. The divine ruach/pneuma does not descend from the clouds. It moves mouth to mouth, like CPR. Like rebirth.
As Jürgen Moltmann puts it:
“The resurrection is not the end of life, but the beginning of the Spirit’s life in the midst of the world.”
4. The Breath of Resistance
There is something radically countercultural about this breath.
In our world, breath is politicized.
“I can’t breathe,” cried George Floyd, echoing generations of oppressed people who have had the breath of life squeezed out by systemic violence.
In a society built on burnout, capitalism takes our breath through overwork and exhaustion.
Climate crises choke the breath of the earth and the most vulnerable.
To say Jesus breathes is to say God resists.
This ruach, this pneuma, is not neutral. It is breath that liberates. It is spirit that subverts. It revives the exhausted and commissions the wounded.
As Willie Jennings writes:
“This resurrection is a revolution that begins in the wounds, moves through breath, and ends in the body of a new people.”
5. Why It Matters Now
Many of us today are breathless.
Breathless from grief
Breathless from disillusionment with religion
Breathless from racism, ableism, and burnout
Breathless from holding it all together
And yet, the Gospel says: Jesus breathes.
Behind every locked door, the pneuma of Christ is coming. In every place that feels dead, the ruach of God stirs.
This isn’t about certainty. It’s not about perfection. It’s not even about belief. It’s about letting ourselves be breathed into again.
The Big Idea
Resurrection is not about escaping death. It’s about receiving divine breath again.
Jesus breathes ruach and pneuma into a broken world, remaking us from the inside out.
Practice: Breathing Resurrection
Find a quiet place. Sit upright. Close your eyes. Breathe slowly and intentionally.
As you inhale, say internally:
“Breath of God, fill me.”
As you exhale:
“Peace of Christ, steady me.”
Repeat for five minutes. Let this become a daily ritual—not to escape, but to remember.
Resurrection begins not with proof, but with breath.
You are not alone. You are still being made new.
Reflection Questions
Where in your life do you feel breathless right now?
What fears have locked the doors of your heart?
How might Christ be breathing peace into your present reality—not in power, but in presence?