Can dead things live again?

One of the consequences of living in a world with more knowledge of nature and a more expansive understanding of history is a certain kind of death: of the mystical, the idea of blessings, of God’s seeming intervention in every good thing that happens. To say nothing of miracles—real, turn-nature-on-its-head kind of miracles. We live in a world that sometimes feels thoroughly demystified.

It’s not that I don’t believe in the miraculous or the possibility that God moves in our midst. But it’s difficult to ignore the possibility that seemingly miraculous healings may have been profound misunderstandings about how our bodies and world worked. So it’s easier to speak of God working through our knowledge or skill. Maybe less exciting, but still a way of seeing how God is working among us.

Sometimes, of course, people really do believe in miracles and blessing. Whatever is good in our lives comes from God. A check in the mail. Blessed! The car that swerved and just missed us. Blessed! I was born into a family without want. Blessed! Depending on our tradition, we may say this out loud or keep it to ourselves. But sometimes it’s hard for us to say the word blessed. We know someone who got a collection notice instead of a check, who did get hit by a car and is still struggling with the injuries, who worked hard every day of their life but whose paycheck always weighed less than the stack of bills on the table.