"Cave" | Reflection by Angela Arpino

Dark, scary, drippy, and bat-infested are often words associated with caves. That is, until you visit one as a tourist on your next vacation -- then the words are jaw-dropping, timeless, wonder-filled and yes, drippy. Caverns are those Glory-of-God pieces of art hidden from view unless you go searching for one and then turn on a floodlight. 

Tens of thousands of years in the making, these pitch-black spaces are filled with living waters working tirelessly and methodically to create a magical environment which may or may not ever be seen by human eyes. Stalagmites rise from the floor thanks to stalactites, anchored in the ceiling, trickling water and minerals from their pointed ends. They may each grow only a few centimeters a year, and yet some are feet wide and yards tall. Miraculous.  

Lazarus’ burial cave, of which we heard in last Sunday’s Gospel, was not one of these caves, of course. In Jesus’ day, burial caves were often hewn out of rock and enlarged as additional family members were laid to rest. But they were dark and hidden underground, and in Lazarus’ case, miraculous. Jesus’ living water filled the cave and the body of Lazarus as he greeted his grieving loved ones and friends. And once again, a dark, scary cave revealed the Glory of God, flooded by the light of God’s Son. 

If you’ve never been, visit a cave this summer and explore its living waters. The glory of God will touch your soul and open your eyes wider to God’s miraculous creation.