Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour. (Matthew 25:1-13)
This familiar parable is easy to understand as long we do not think about it too hard. The bridesmaids are expected to welcome the bridegroom when he arrives, coming forth to greet him with the lamps. Presumably, the bride – and her family and the invited guests – are already inside, waiting for him there. But he is greatly delayed, coming only in the middle of the night. The wise bridesmaids have extra oil ready, to relight their lamps if they burn out, while the improvident, foolish young women must run the town, seeking more oil amid all the closed shops. By the time they return, the groom is inside, with the other bridesmaids, and presumably the bride and rest of the guests. He does not let them in, and indeed rather harshly turns them away: “I do not know you.”
And the point of the parable? It is surely about the last days: Jesus is in Jerusalem, after all, after his triumphal arrival, and is just days away from his death. But he will come again, be ready. For us today, the reading is appropriate to the last days of the liturgical year – and the arrival of Advent on December 3 this year.
It is surely too about being prepared — have extra oil for your lamp! – and keeping awake, watching and waiting. Be like the wise bridesmaids, don’t get caught short. Whether the oil be readiness, or faith, or good works — strive to have them on hand, when the Lord returns.
Perhaps ironically, though the final warning is clear — “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” both the wise and the foolish do fall asleep — and none of them are blamed for that understandable lapse of dozing off, during the long delay.
But such morals seem unsatisfactory: he is late; they fall asleep; the wise bridesmaids will not share; the foolish ones run off into the night, desperate to make up for their lack of foresight by getting more oil; the bridegroom refuses to forgive them, and in very harsh terms. Is there nothing more? I pondered this throughout the past week before preaching on this Sunday, November 12.
Another insight emerged amid my ruminations and prayers: suppose the fault of the foolish women – and of the wise too – was to think that having lighted oil lamps was the real test?
Suppose the real challenge for the women was to be honest, admitting what they had and did not have? “True,” they might well have said, “we did not have enough oil for our lamps — but you came so late, after all! Still, we are all here to greet you. We waited faithfully in the dark for hours. And now we welcome you, we sing for you, and escort you inside. And half of us have lit oil lamps. That surely is enough, is it not?”
Perhaps then the bridegroom would then recognize them: devoted friends of his or at least of the bridge, young women who waited for him, who did not give up on him or scold him for being so late. They would have given what they had — their presence, rather than being absent because obsessed over getting more oil.
Perhaps the Lord wants us to watch and wait for him; perhaps he does not care about lamps and oil and all that. We are to welcome the Lord with the gifts we have, our talents, deeds, and faith — and we are still to welcome him when all that fails, with empty hands and open arms, simply as we happen to be, whether he arrives in the middle of the day or on the darkest night. Then he will recognize us as those who wait, whatever happens.
(Written after a homily given at Mass on Sunday, November 12, 2023)
