Sometimes it’s the certainty that no real mystery remains in our lives, the certainty that we’ve already made enough sense of our world, that keeps us from seeing the strange, wonderful, grace-filled future that’s unfolding before us. And maybe this is why the grace of the resurrection makes its way all the way to us through stories like these.
Jesus may not appear directly in front of us, as he did for Thomas, but we can still see him in all places, at all times.
Jesus wants us to live, not only like we are loved with a love even crucifixion can’t kill, but to live like starry-eyed lovers of this world ourselves, so that all that is best and most beautiful within it can come forth into the space that only love can make.
God promises to sprinkle clean water upon the people, and cleanse them from the idols they had served. As water rushes over a rock, it not only cleanses it, it smooths out its rough, jagged edges over time. The currents of the water slowly open up tiny crevices in the rock for new life to find safe spaces in which to be born.
We are now the ones sitting in the aftermath when nothing will happen for a little while. And we begin to tell the story all over again. This is the work of Good Friday, to be in the scraped-out, empty place and to stay there for a while, for as long as we can stand it.