The Big Why: Communion

Matthew 25:1-13

Jesus said, “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.”

Dear beloved of God, grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus who is the Christ. Amen.

There were five howling, rowdy, young women
Who came
To the Wedding of the Lamb
With their disabled motorcycles
And their oil tanks
Empty

But since they knew how
To dance
A person says to them
To stay anyhow.

And there you have it:
There were five noisy young women
Without gas
But looking good
In the traffic of the dance

Consequently
There were ten bridesmaids
At the Wedding of the Lamb

I love this poem by Thomas Merton. It’s a playful retelling of today’s reading from Matthew’s gospel. Frankly, I like it much better than Matthew’s version. Nobody’s left on the outside looking in. And I like the idea of bridesmaids on motorcycles, tearing up late to the wedding. Just seems fun.

Matthew’s version isn’t fun. It’s scary and unsettling and it’s certainly not the story I wanted to preach on this week. Or this year, or really any time.

Parables are challenging in general but this parable is doubly tricky. First, it involves waiting and uncertainty. The bridegroom is delayed and they don’t know when he’s supposed to arrive. Which secondly, necessitates a kind of vigilance that doesn’t feel sustainable. At least not to me.

Look, I’m not a planner. I was a failed boy scout, I never made it past the tenderfoot rank. I’m not prepared for every situation. No doubt I would have been one of those foolish bridesmaids who didn’t bring enough oil. So to think that the moral of this story is that I’m supposed to be, maybe even called to be, in this state of perpetual vigilance or wakefulness until Jesus comes again, is terrifying.

I mean try as I might, how can I possibly prepare for all contingencies. Sure I might need oil tonight for the wedding, but next week I might need hedge clippers for the garden party.

I don’t mean to sound flip, because in all honesty I find stories like this frightening. Because a parable like this can make it seem like all you need to do is slip up, just once, and at the wrong moment and it’ll be too late for you, for me, forever. And in this life there’s a lot of chances to slip up.

And then there’s the waiting. The delay. Last week felt like 15 weeks in a year that had 14 Aprils, 13 Octobers and eight Junes. When will things be better or different? I’m straight up ready for Jesus to come again. It’s time. I’m tired and I’ve had enough and I know that I’ve got it good. But still to hear this parable, today, this week, this year feels like a gut punch.

Keep grinding, keep working, don’t get lazy, because you never know, and if you’re not ready when the man comes around it’ll be too late.

Let’s be glad that this isn’t the only parable that Jesus tells. And it’s not the only story he shares. Jesus tells lots of them. He says lots of things and does lots of things. This parable is only part of the story.

The Jesus who tells this parable in front of us today is the same Jesus who at the end of Matthew’s gospel, after his resurrection, before he ascends to heaven, leaves the disciples with these words: “Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Jesus promises his abiding presence to these disciples who followed him in fits and starts during his ministry. This is the same Jesus who gave himself for the whole world on the cross. This Jesus experienced the totality of what it means to be human.

The same Jesus who tells this difficult parable experienced the uncertainty and difficulty of waiting as he was handed over to be tried as a common criminal and awaited execution.

So what if the foolishness of the five is not their lack of preparation. Sure they probably should have come with extra oil, just in case, but what if their big mistake was leaving the party? What if where it all went wrong was when they left the party?

We live at a time, and maybe it’s no different than any other time in human history, but we live at a time where there is nothing more terrifying, more unnerving, than to be found deficient, to be found lacking. Everything in this life feels like it is about winning and losing, about trying to appear strong and powerful and competent and ready.

So it seems perfectly reasonable to me, maybe to you too, that these five women would rush out in the middle of the night. That they would scramble to find oil for their lamps in the hopes that they might beat the bridegroom back, and in doing so, keep up the appearances that they have it all together.

But of course they don’t have it all together. And neither do we. And neither does anyone else.

This is likely the hardest part yet of today’s parable, but it’s also the best. In the face of our unpreparedness, in the face of our shortcomings, our inability to wait with grace, we are called to somehow, someway, through the power of God’s Holy Spirit, to stay. We are called to stay in the presence of this Jesus who gives his life for us. We aren’t supposed to run away and seek to fix ourselves.

No matter how much we may want to. No matter how difficult the work seems. And if this year has shown us anything, we’ve got a lot of work to do on ourselves, on our country and for this world. Jesus wants us, the wise and foolish both, to stay because the feast is coming.

Though the wait is long. Though the work is hard. Though we’re tired and afraid and suspicious and skeptical, the feast is still coming. When we gather around this table, whether in this space or in our homes, we are given a small taste, a sneak peak, a bit of nourishment that helps us to wait a little longer. When we eat this bread and drink from this cup we’re given food for the journey. When we participate in this meal we become a part of Christ’s body and are given a share in God’s life.

You are God’s beloved in Christ, and along with all of God’s children, we’ve been invited to a great wedding feast, the wedding of the Lamb! We’ve been drawn into the kingdom of heaven.

Don’t leave. Stay. In all your unpreparedness and imperfections, stay! Let the life-giving and transforming love of God wash over you this day. Let that love infuse your work and your waiting. Stay! Because the feast is still to come. Amen.