O my people, I will open your graves
and have you rise from them,
and bring you back to the land of Israel.
Then you shall know that I am the LORD.
Ezekiel is fond of reminding us who we are and where we find ourselves in God's plan of salvation. We are certainly important to God, but not as important as we might suppose. Speaking for God, the Prophet insists, "When I do these things, then you shall know that I am the Lord."
As the wise man Sirach wrote several centuries later, God uses us to show the world his holiness; and for that purpose Jesus, Mary, the saints and martyrs, the Church, and the Jewish people are everlasting signs – despite the sins of the Church and the Jews.
Every year, during the Easter vigil, the cantor sings Saint Augustine’s “O felix culpa,” O happy fault which merited such a redeemer.” Human sin, as dreadful, horrible, and unspeakably ugly as it is, rather than being a total catastrophe, has given God a perfect opportunity to demonstrate the generous, superabundant Grace which outshines billions of stars and gazillions of galaxies in our universe. We have seen with our eyes, heard with our ears, and touched with our hands the God made human flesh who gave his very life to win our salvation and our everlasting gratitude.
Yes, it is possible to exponentially multiply Infinity by infinity; God has done it in the death and resurrection of Jesus; and we are his witnesses.
But that infinite goodness can be revealed to us only so far as we are able and willing to see it. And so God is born of Mary, an otherwise unknown Galilean virgin, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger. The same God grows up as all children do, and begins to demonstrate his singularity only as an adult, and only with signs and wonders visible to our eyes. As Saint John said, that which “we have seen and heard, and touched with our own hands...."
Were He to appear as a royal prince riding an Arabian stallion, or an American president in an Abrams tank, his glory would be ridiculous. Can you set off a diamond with the sun? Precious gems are set off with dark fabrics that attract no attention. Sunbeams sparkle through its facets and flaws but disappear in a black matte setting.
Likewise, it is fitting that we should see our God only in the smallest things: a wafer which appears to be bread, and a liquid drop which tastes for all the world like wine. God presents himself in a human body suspended between heaven and earth, before the dark futility of death. He wears a crown of thorns, not of silver or gold; his suffering is mocked by an angry mob. That’s how we know he is our God.
We see these small things – things which the world ignores – and we know what they mean. We know God because we believe in him; and are glad that no other sign will be given. Consider Lazarus. The poor fellow was dead and buried for four days! Can anyone be more dead? Can any reasonable person hope that he might return to the land of the living? Even his grieving sister will remind the Lord, “He’s been dead for four days; there’ll be a stench. We cannot open the grave.” But Jesus had predicted, “Amen, amen, I say to you, the hour is coming and is now here when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For just as the Father has life in himself, so also he gave to his Son the possession of life in himself.” When Lazarus heard the voice of his friend and Lord Jesus, he came out, as you and I will come out of our tombs when we hear his voice. Some will come reluctantly to their doom; others will come joyously to celebrate forever the mercy and justice In the wonder of God’s face, we will see infinite goodness and beauty multiplied exponentially. We have heard that voice. We know it from our life of prayer. We’ve heard it in churches, chapels, and cathedrals; we’ve heard it in your solitary room. It’s as familiar as a mother’s voice, which we learned to recognize weeks before we were born! The Voice of Jesus is just that sweet, charming, and attractive. It overcomes our resistance, and makes our stubbornness look foolish. It’s a voice with authority and wisdom, and when he calls us from the grave we will sing out, “Here I am! You called me!”
Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your merciful love;
according to your great compassion, blot out my transgressions.
Wash me completely from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
O my people, I will open your gravesand have you rise from them,and bring you back….Then you shall know that I am the LORD,when I open your graves and have you rise from them,O my people!

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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.