Waiting longer than anticipated, running low on fuel, distracted by the threat of scarcity – the parable in today’s Gospel reading speaks to so much of our experience these past months. Like the bridesmaids who expected the bridegroom’s arrival to happen sooner, we too have been waiting longer than expected for an end to the pandemic and things to go “back to normal.” After gathering for worship back in the middle of March, we closed the doors and imagined a joyous return to the sanctuary at Easter…and then Pentecost…and now here we are in November beginning to coming to terms with the idea of a Christmas Eve worship that will be so very different than any before.
 |
| Keeping Awake, by Rebekah Krevens |
Like the five bridesmaids without extra oil, our energy is dwindling as the wait is prolonged, with no way to refill it. We are tired of the disruptions to our routines; exhausted by the challenge of adapting and adjusting again and again; discouraged by the extended separation from family and friends and support systems. Add to that the unique layer of a fraught election season and delayed results, and sleeping through it like the bridesmaids in the parable sounds pretty tempting. Yes, like the five foolish bridesmaids, we brought enough oil for things to go smoothly, but our lived experience has been anything but.
Though we often lose sight of it, as Christians we are waiting for something else, too – for the coming of Jesus and ushering in of God’s heavenly kingdom, so different from the ways of the world as it stands now. We await the day when mourning, and crying, and pain are no more. We await the day when the dead will be raised and all of us are united around God’s great heavenly feast. We await God’s justice, finally making right all that has been warped by sin and making whole that which is broken. We trust that the bridegroom is coming, but sometimes the cares of this world overwhelm and distract us, and we lose sight of the big picture.
In reading the parable this past week, I’ve been thinking about what it might say to us today about delays, and waiting, and what to do in the meantime.
First, it seems that we would be served well by a “plan for the worst, hope for the best” kind of attitude. We don’t know how long the wait will be, but we do know that unexpected delays are always possible. The five bridesmaids who are called wise are prepared for a delay, even though it may have seemed strange that they would lug around extra oil in the middle of the day for what was usually a quick, ceremonial task.
Being prepared for delays these days might look like attending to rest regularly, rather than pushing it off since “surely things will be over and back to normal soon”. If we want to be ready for the long haul, we must attend to our lamps, keep our wicks trimmed, and rest knowing that when the shout arises, we’ll be ready.
Second, I’ve read some compelling commentaries that suggest that the foolish bridesmaids are ultimately called foolish not because they don’t bring enough oil, but because they leave to search for more when their lamps go out.
Rather than trusting that the bridegroom’s love is for them more than for their ceremonial lamps, the five wise bridesmaids refuse to share, and the five bridesmaids hustle away despite the fact that it’s midnight, they have no lamps to guide them, and even the lamp oil dealers will be in bed. By the time they return, those who were ready have already gone in to the party and the doors are shut. Distracted by scarcity and frantic to fix things, the bridesmaids lost sight of what was most important. What the bridegroom needed was not the lamps or the oil, but their presence to help celebrate.
I think it’s easy for us, too, to lose sight of the most important thing. Like the prophet Amos said, our frantic attention to our rituals and liturgies aren’t worth much to God if they’re not also accompanied by justice and righteousness. What are the things that distract us and pull us away from the task at hand? What are we so careful to guard that it puts up barriers between us and those who are in need?
Finally, I think there is joy to be found in the waiting. There is joy when we celebrate that we’ve been invited to the party, and joy when we celebrate that we have been invited alongside others who, like us, are dearly loved by the bridegroom. God delights in our presence and cannot wait for us to join in celebration together.
It is the community, and our relationships with one another, that provide support and encouragement while we wait. Even when our own lamps are flickering and dim, we can share in the glow of the lamps of those who wait alongside us. And, as we wait in the deepening shadows, we trust that when the bridegroom comes, his illuminating presence will outshine even our brightest lamps.
Waiting is hard. Delays are hard. Running low on oil is hard. We know this – better this year, perhaps, than ever before. In the meantime, we give thanks for a God who has prepared a celebration, a God whose presence is promised, a God who has given us one another.
Comments
Post a Comment