THE OIL CRISIS

Matthew 25: 1-13 

There are a number of commodities that can be given or loaned to someone else: at Thanksgiving a neighbor who is unable to get to the store herself can knock on your door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar, two eggs, or any of a dozen ingredients one might need for a feast. On golf courses I’ve seen players borrow a sand wedge or “bum” cigarettes. And as the choir sits up front in plain view of all, and one starts to cough, silent hands around the person, without being asked, offer cough drops.  But there are some things that are hard to borrow.  When I was growing up, gas could be siphoned from automobile gas tanks if necessary; with today’s cars it is much more difficult, and people have learned how dangerous it can be with the electronic devices we carry that can spark. In today’s lesson, we learn about a crisis of oil, lamp oil, for bridesmaids in Jesus’ day who are waiting for the return of the groom. Some ask for oil, but are turned down. Some have wondered about the lack of kindness that seems to exhibit.  There are two ways of looking at that request and denial: one way is to understand the gravity of the situation: if you give something that will deny you something important (Like water, air, life, salvation) then you  yourself will have the heavy burden instead of the one who was unprepared. In this lesson it’s about getting in to the banquet to which you were invited and asked to attend. “But it’s just a banquet” you say. As we get ready for our second wedding in a year, I’ll tell the men present here that there really is no such thing as “Just a wedding banquet” to a bridesmaid! They want to be included, be featured, and be important. The day of a service, if one has forgotten her contrasting colored belt that is part of her dress, no other bridesmaid can afford to loan hers, or she’ll have none!  Likewise, as one faces death with one parachute between two people on a crashing plane there is nothing that can be successfully shared.  But when it comes to the oil in these lamps, we have come to know that Jesus uses well-known examples to stand for other things. When he teaches the parable of the sower, it is not about farming but about witnessing; when he teaches the parable of laborers in the vineyard it is not about promptness but about grace.  Now when he talks about lamp for the oil of the bridesmaids, he is not talking about actual oil. He is talking about how those, who are waiting for Christ’s return one day, should do to be ready. His crowd knows the wedding tradition of the day: that a father and son choose a bride, pay the bride price to her father, and then go off to build a room on the groom’s father’s house in which they will live. The crowd understands that only the father knows when it is decided it is time for his son to return to claim his bride, the time in which the bridesmaids would be called on for their invited service. But if they are not ready or available when the groom returns, they are not included. We already heard about a man who was kept out of a wedding because his heart was not clothed in the garments of Christ in the sermon “Wedding Crashers.” Now we must decide what the oil stands for in the lamps of the bridesmaids: if we want to be ready when Christ comes again, do we just buy gallons of oil and dozens of wicks? Or is there a more subtle message than that? 

George Painter’s class is now studying a book by Episcopal Priest Dr. Cynthia Bourgeault, that, in one part, examines this parable. She notices that Jesus in most cases is all about sharing, but in this parable, there is no sharing that occurs. Why would he be telling this story? She asks, “How do you make this parable fit with the ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’ of the fourth beatitude? At some point the light begins to dawn that Jesus is teaching at a whole different level here ….These hard teachings are exclusively about inner transformation (not outer actions) and make sense only within that frame of reference. The reason the five bridesmaids who have oil can’t give it to the five who don’t is that the oil symbolizes something that has to be individually created in you…. Nobody can give it to you….The oil stands for the quality of your transformed consciousness, and unfortunately, it’s impossible to it [get] through a donation from someone else.” [THE WISDOM JESUS, Shambhala Publications, 2008, p.52.]  If you prefer a classic example, back in 1949 Methodist preacher Halford E. Luccock who was professor of preaching at Yale Divinity School, introduced the featured Lyman Beecher lecturer, Leslie Weatherhead (whose book Pete Zahn’s class is studying) with these words: “I have read his sermons, and they are good; I have preached his sermons, and lo, they are very good.” It was Luccock who noted that the oil in this parable stands for character. These are his words: “It was one of the truths which were recovered from neglect by the Protestant Reformation that character cannot actually be borrowed. No merit from another person’s acts, or faithfulness, or his service can pass to us.  The foolish virgins could not borrow oil from the wise; they must buy for themselves. This was not due to arbitrary hard-heartedness on the part of the wise virgins…. Personal reserves of spirit and character cannot be transferred in any immediate and easy way. It is impossible for one person to impart to another the spiritual power which comes from frequent communion with God and continued practice of his will. No religious person can give of his character; he can only tell how it may be obtained—no more than a firm-muscled, broad-shouldered athlete can give his strength to an invalid.” [STUDIES IN THE PARABLES OF JESUS, The Methodist Book Concern, 1917.] 

We know from our studies in October of Jesus’ parables that banquets and weddings refer to the great second coming of Christ when we will be with him forever. Even as he walked the lanes of Galilee and the streets of Jerusalem, he knew he was not long for this world; he himself knew he would be crucified but he did not know the time when he would return again. No one knew except his Father. That is still true. Those who are busy trying to read the signs of Jesus’ return are feverishly digging for clues for an answer that is not ours to know.  Suppose you had a son or daughter coming back from a classified mission of war, but you didn’t know the exact date of their arrival. Would it be better to sit by the window and wait for days or weeks, and make ceaseless calls, trying to obtain information about their return that is not yours to know? Or would your child be most pleased if you busied yourself getting their room ready, notifying their friends, stocking the cupboard and refrigerator with their favorite foods and beverages, and opening a photo album of family pictures to display on the coffee table? We need to be ready to meet Jesus.  Last Saturday Warren Cole met Jesus as he left his mortal life and inherited eternal life. Did he know he was going to die last Saturday? No. Do you know the day you will die? Instead of wondering when you will meet Jesus, the wisest among us will see that our hearts are filled with the oil of good character, humble service, tireless devotion to knowing the Lord and making him known, ceaseless prayer life, and communion both in sacrament and in closeness.  You cannot expect to be ready for Jesus when you hardly know Jesus or know about him. You cannot expect Jesus to know you when you have just called on him during family emergencies. You cannot expect that there will be enough oil in the lamp of your heart just by knowing the words to Amazing Grace and attending Christmas Candlelight Services. The words that Jesus said long ago—“Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour”—are not so that we will press our faces to the windows in our homes like a child looking for Santa, but like wise persons who are ready for the return of their king. Superficial actions do not fill the lamps in our hearts with oil; counting on childhood learning about the Son of God alone does not fill the lamps in our souls; deciding to be a devoted disciple of Jesus replenishes your lamp with oil; deciding to live differently, as Ebenezer Scrooge did in Charles Dickens’ A CHRISTMAS CAROL, starts to fill your lamp with oil; studying the Word of God and praying for direction starts to fill your lamp; and heartfelt worship of and gratitude to God really fills the lamps of the faithful. For those who do those things: you go from being foolish to wise. It’s not about begging, borrowing, or stealing the oil from another Christian heart; it’s about transforming your own.  May Jesus come one day, perhaps soon, and find the cup of your heart overflowing, aglow with joy, with anticipation, and with readiness for his return.  

Jeffrey A. Sumner                                                      November 8, 2008