Got Oil?

Every time we have a wedding here at St. Andrew’s, I admonish those in the wedding party to make a special effort to be ready on the day of the ceremony. I plead with them to arrive early and be dressed and ready to go. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t.

One bride told me that she was from a Middle Eastern culture where nobody arrived on time for anything.  So, for her 5PM wedding, she decided to send out invitations that said the nuptials would begin at 4PM.  Well, lo and behold, all the guests actually made it to church by 4PM on the big day.  But there was no bride in sight.  She was not prepared for her guests to arrive on time and so did not appear until 5PM.  Needless to say, it was a rough and gruff group of folks out there when we finally began the ceremony.

Today’s Gospel is a parable about a wedding. It is told from the vantage point of the ten young bridesmaids who had been invited to the happy occasion. Five of them were foolish, said Jesus, five of them were wise. What was the measure of their wisdom? In a word, their readiness to be a part of the event. All of the young women had oil in their lamps, but five had an additional supply.

This is, of course, foreign to our concepts of weddings today. Weddings in our society are announced for a specific time and place, and if things are late in getting started, those invited guests begin to fidget a bit. But in first century Palestine, a wedding could happen anytime within several days. The uncertainty was considered a part of the excitement of the wedding.

The bridegroom hoped to catch some of the bridal party napping. But fairness required that some announcement be made, so just before the big event a messenger was sent through the streets shouting: “Behold the bridegroom cometh.” The alert ones in the wedding party would respond, and the others would be left behind.

In Jesus’ parable, the cry came at midnight. This was often the case; most bridegrooms chose to come late at night. The sleeping attendants were awakened. It was then that they realized that they did not have enough oil in their lamps to get through the night. Panicked, they attempted to borrow some from the other bridesmaids. But they responded, “If we give you our oil, there won’t be enough for us. Hurry out to the dealers and buy some yourself.”

So the five foolish bridesmaids hurried out, but by the time they returned the door had already been closed. They knocked on the door and pleaded to be a part of the festivities, but the groom said: “If you belonged at this event you would already have been present.” Jesus concluded: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (25:13).

What is this parable suggesting to us?

First, it is saying that some things in life cannot be borrowed. You and I cannot live on someone else’s oil. We can help one another in so many ways, but at some point we are on our own.

This is especially true when it comes to faith. The road of the religious pilgrimage is a narrow one and can only be walked two at a time, you and God. Your parents cannot walk it for you. Husbands cannot depend upon the devotion of their wives. I have had more than one husband laughingly say to me over the years: “My wife handles the religion in our family.” What they really reveal, however, is how little they understand about faith.

Faith is the most intensely personal experience we will ever have in life. Others can help us toward it. They can encourage us. They can pray for us. They can bring us up in the way we should go, but in the end, we must embrace it ourselves. No one can do that for us. The five foolish bridesmaids in this story were foolish because they thought that they could rely upon the resources of others to get them through. What they discovered was that there are some things in life that cannot be borrowed.

So how prepared are we for the coming of the Lord? Can we awake during this delay prepared to meet him, or must we still scramble to get pretty and party-worthy?

To be prepared, we’ve got to keep the lamps trimmed.

So what is the oil we are short of? How might we scramble around to get ready for meeting Christ today?

Oil in Scripture is often a symbol for the Holy Spirit. Perhaps we try to spring into action without submitting our work, our intentions, or our purpose to the Holy Spirit so that God’s Spirit can fill our deeds with power and effectiveness.

Or perhaps we’re short of the oil of kindness and compassion. There’s no way we’re ready to meet Jesus in the person of the unloved and unfortunate lacking the essential oils of compassion and mercy.

Perhaps we’re short of the oil of patience. Without such oil, we’re ill-equipped to deal with a person who needs long-term love and extensive guidance.

Perhaps we’re short of the oil of education and instruction. We’re not adequately trained to be of service where we have the natural skills and the interest to minister. Perhaps God is calling us to take our expertise and skills to another level in order to more adequately meet Jesus when he comes to us.

To be prepared for the party, we’re to trim our lamps daily.

There is a somber ending to this warning against slumber. The opportunity to be included as a member of God’s kingdom eventually comes to an end. That is why the previous lesson of being prepared has such import.

But aren’t we used to plenty of second chances? Kids cry out “do-overs” if they don’t like the outcome of a game played with friends. High-school students can retake the SAT to improve their scores. Golfers can take a mulligan on a really bad shot. The delete key on our computer quickly offers the chance to fix mistakes that an old typewriter never could. In fact, the love and grace of God offer plenty of second chances … even seven times 70 chances if necessary.

But there is an eventual end point at which these second chances are no more. Lazarus knew it. One of the thieves on the cross knew it. And Jesus obviously knew it as well (25:11-12). When the bridegroom does return, the opportunities to prepare for him are no longer presented.

Jesus sounds a loving warning: “Live a spiritual life that is already prepared for my return.”

How then do we respond to this parable?

We might take a spiritual inventory of our lives. What areas can we see that would be like the untrimmed lamp? What oil do we need to go and buy now – in our devotional lives … in our workplace … in our friendships with pre-Christians … in the way we treat our families … in the choices we make when nobody else is looking?

And finally, we must remember what we are preparing for. It is a wedding banquet. A party. Not something woeful. And this reality should speak to our motivation in the spiritual life.

When the busy week is over and we are getting ready to go to a party at a friend’s house, that is a good thing. It is fun anticipation. There is no motivation of panic or obligation. We look forward to the community of friends we will be with and we anticipate the festivities that we are getting ready for. Jesus didn’t tell the parable of 10 bridesmaids preparing for an IRS tax audit. It was a party.

And the party Jesus calls us to is worth getting ready for … it will be a banquet of unending satisfaction.

So always wake up prepared to go. Because the party is worth the anticipation – and the suitor is worth the preparation.