After Thoughts: Twenty Third Sunday after Pentecost

Matthew 25:1-13

The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids.  Now there’s a story that really bugs me.  It seems riddled with inconsistencies and conundrums.  As a child, I was taught to be a wise bridesmaid, always prepared – kind of a Boy Scout approach to understanding the story.  But really?  This puts salvation dangerously close to works righteousness, all about what I do, not what Jesus did.  Just stock up on oil and I’m good to go, the gates of heaven will open wide. 

Then there’s the selfishness of the wise bridesmaids.  What oil vendor is open at midnight and who sends her friends off to find it at such a time, especially when there is extra oil at hand?  Later, when the five return and knock on the door, and the bridegroom says he does not know them, why didn’t those wise ones intervene and speak for their friends?  This sounds more like Survivor Island than the kingdom of heaven.

Most perplexing, who shouted at midnight?  All ten women had fallen asleep.  Who was watching?  Who had spotted the bridegroom?

As I read, re-read, and researched this passage, my thoughts have continued to swirl.  There are some really interesting, and some kind of kooky, understandings of this story.  But I think the key question, and the one that unlocks it for me, is:

Where is the bride?

It’s a wedding after all.  We have a bridegroom, bridesmaids, and a banquet hall.  There has to be a bride in here somewhere.  Is she the one who called out at midnight?  It’s most likely the bride would be the most excited, watching and waiting no matter how long for her beloved to arrive. 

This reminds me of two beautiful brides who have blessed me with the role of MOB.  I have treasured memories of watching them plan and prepare and equip everyone so the wedding celebration was a joyous occasion for all.  Brides can often be depicted as vain and selfish, but I think the opposite is the case.  In their attention to detail and their meticulous preparation, they are thinking of their guests.  Will the menu work for everyone? Is transportation accessible and does everyone know the route to get to the right places at the right times?  Special consideration is given to the bridesmaids – what do they need?  Where will they stay?  Where will they get ready?  Do they need help with hair and make-up?  What about cover-ups and flip-flops? Water bottles?  Child care?  On and on.  The bride is the heavy lifter when it comes to a successful wedding feast.

So where is this bride and what is she doing throughout this story?  Why didn’t the bridesmaids have enough oil to keep watch as long as needed?  If they did have to forage for their own oil, why isn’t the bride as anxiously awaiting their return as she anticipated her bridegroom’s arrival? How could the banquet start without the entire party?  It makes me want to scream – that just isn’t right.  This whole story stinks.

Until.  Until I look in the mirror.  Oops.  Who is the bride?  It’s me.  It’s you.  It’s all of us in the Church.  Might this parable be our wake-up call? 

Are we waiting and watching?  The hour is unknown, but when the bridegroom arrives, will we be ready and waiting?  Not like the sandwich-board guy proclaiming the end is near.  This is an active waiting.  Feeding the sheep.  Fighting for justice.  Caring for widows and orphans.  Walking humbly.  Being faithful stewards of all the good gifts we have been given.

Are we equipping and caring?  Do our bridesmaids have what they need?  Not in an in-your-face evangelizing way.  But in a true love-your-neighbor way.  Do we listen for those in need around us?  Do we offer a hug, a meal, a safe place for people to tell their stories and share their narratives?  Do we seek together our common humanity and acknowledge each person’s uniqueness?  Do we suspend judgment and fill empty spaces with grace?

Are we talking to the bridegroom about our bridesmaids in anticipation of the big party just around the corner? Why does the bridegroom not know these five women?  Has the bride never mentioned her dear friends?  Are we praying for our loved ones, our friends, our neighbors, our enemies – bringing them to God in our conversations with Him?  Praying for them in the deepest way, not that our will be done, but that God’s will be done in their lives.  Regardless of their relationship with God, we know God so God should have heard about them from us.  No one needs to be left outside of this celebration.    

God has given us, the Church, the starring role in this sacred story.  In our life as the Church, our witness to love can be so strong that even those who don’t know the Bridegroom ask to be included in the festivities.  So we must always be on alert - are we, the Bride, preparing an inclusive, come-one-come-all feast?  Are we open to and aware of the needs of those around us?  Are we bringing extra oil to be shared with all – even those who don’t know they need it?  We, the Church, as community, as the bride of Christ, are the living answer to an on-going mystery in the lead-up to an awesome banquet when the two shall become one. 

I don’t think this is the end of the parable, but more like a dramatic pause – breathless suspense giving the Bride time to show up.  God is calling the Church on earth to be his Bride and to do the heavy lifting. But if, like the bride in this parable, we fail miserably, our Bridegroom will not and cannot fail.  We know this Bridegroom and He cannot leave things this way.  So I see Jesus looking around the table, first at the bridesmaids, then at the Bride and saying something like “Really?  Are you just going to sit there?  Someone open the door.”

After Thoughts: Twenty Second Sunday after Pentecost - All Saints

Matthew 5:1-12

I’ve been struggling with this week’s writing.  It’s been sort of a triple whammy.  Sunday was All Saints Day, always a day of joyful remembrance and yet sorrowful.  Every time I sing The Church’s One Foundation, that line about “mystic sweet communion with those who’ve gone before” gets me.  The last time I went to church with Dad, he was on oxygen, yet determined to walk up for communion.  We stood side by side with Mom – it is now one of my sweetest memories of those final weeks. 

Then, on that very day, the Gospel for the day hits home.  Most of us, church folk or not, are familiar with the Sermon on the Mount.  All those ‘blessed are” pronouncements, followed by a promise.  “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”  “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”  This is the one that made my heart beat a little faster as it was read out loud.  Dad’s advice was always, no matter what the problem – “Be a peacemaker.”  Those words ring in my head, heart, and soul often.  There is no greater commandment than to love God and love the neighbor.  Making peace with one another is a good place to start.

And then, Tuesday came.  November 7.  The day Mom died.  I don’t mean to brag, but I had the absolute best parents a child could have.,.even an adult child.  We lived miles apart, but we Skyped almost daily and talked about things that really mattered.  I miss them both so much and try not to dwell on the past, but some weeks are set aside for just such celebrations.  “When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.” (Kahlil Gibran)

So some weeks, instead of peace like a river, I feel more like Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption.  Like I’m searching for peace in a river of sewage: grief, loss, anger, despair.  All those little demons that love to latch onto my soul and attempt to move me away from the light.

As I wrestled with this text and how to put my thoughts into words, watching the week slip away, the world threw another curve ball.  A family from my hometown lost a precious, beautiful young daughter in a most horrific way.   It is heartbreaking and unfathomable and senseless.  And yet…there is light.  The father posted:  Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!!  She is going to see the King.

Like Andy Dufresne and all those saints who have gone before us, let us keep going, wading through the dark days, laughing through the bright days, taking our refuge in the Lord.  For what will be has not yet been revealed.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

After Thoughts: Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost

John 8:31-38

The key words from today’s reading are: Continue.  Know.  Free.  If we continue in the word, we will know the truth and we will be made free.   In this particular passage from the Gospel of John, Jesus is speaking to first century followers who immediately get all riled up, letting him know in no uncertain terms that they are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves.

What is so funny about this is that they are celebrating the Festival of Booths.  Check out Chapter 7 – Jesus has gone to Jerusalem to be part of the event.  During this time, the people recalled their captivity in Egypt by living in booths, or tents of a sort, as a way of re-enacting their exodus from captivity.  It was a way to share their history and recall God’s saving grace.  In the midst of this commemoration of how God freed them from slavery and brought them into a new land, they are insisting that they have never been slaves.  It’s just a crazy assertion.  But it seems to reveal that their festival has become little more than a dead annual tradition.  They don’t even know why and what they are celebrating.  It happens.  We keep on doing the same old things year after year and sometimes the meaning is drained away.

This is why Jesus says “if you continue.” We must keep working and praying and learning and doing.  Because God’s Word is alive – Jesus is alive.  We cannot just memorize a creed or a prayer and stay locked in a tradition of our own making.  We are called to be creative agents along with God who is always making things new. Martin Luther awakened us to this possibility in the Reformation. Luther translated the Bible into the common language, he tore down the walls between laity and clergy, and he opened people’s hearts and minds to the grace of God that breaks the curse of sin. God is calling us into relationship to experience this gift of grace.

Then, from within this relationship with God, we are freed to be in authentic relationship with our neighbor.  In the knowing of one another, our humanity is made whole, and we are able to banish prejudice, fear, envy, and strife.  We see ourselves and others as children of God, without distinction, for all are slaves to sin and we all fall short. Skin color, gender, social status, and all of those human barriers to relationship, are broken down as we come to know one another in friendship and love.

To continue means to go forth and engage in life.  We move from the theoretical assuredness and lifelessness of isolated existence into the glorious uncertainty and sacredness of community.  We find that Jesus was speaking not just to first century followers.  Jesus is speaking to us right now. Let us listen and let us continue. So that we may know the truth.  So that we may be free.