Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

          We know that each year in these waning weeks of Ordinary Time, the readings become much more apocalyptic in tone: preparing us for end things, end times, and the coming of Christ again in glory.  I suppose we could look at these readings and try to scare ourselves into holiness, but I’m really not sure that’s the best approach.

          Of course, it isn’t only the second coming of Christ that we should be concerned about, as though we could pull off just one more “cram session” before that fateful day of reckoning.  No, it is also the daily coming of Christ into our lives that we need to look to and prepare for.  We’ll have some more of this in just three short weeks when we begin the season of Advent: a time of preparation as we remember the first coming of Christ, and yes, with an eye to His second coming, but especially watchful for the various comings of Christ in between these two.

          I would propose as our model of vigilance these “five wise virgins” that Jesus uses as an example in the parable we have just heard.  Ten were awaiting the arrival of the bridegroom for the wedding feast.  Jesus isn’t very subtle here, this imagery of the “bridegroom” and the “wedding feast” is clearly meant in reference to Himself.  Just as in Mark’s Gospel, when Jesus is questioned about why His disciples do not fast He responds: “Can the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them?”  Jesus is the “bridegroom.” We are those who look for Him, and we are either wise or foolish.

          We are foolish if we don’t have enough “oil” for the long night of waiting.  What is this oil?  Good question.  I suppose it could be faith itself.  This would make sense as to why the “wise virgins” wouldn’t share with the foolish, because in a sense personal faith is non-transferable.  I can and should share my faith with others, but I can only do this to some extent. I can give others reasons for my belief, but I can’t just give them my personal faith.  It just doesn’t work that way.

          Of course, if it is true that the “oil” is a metaphor for faith, then this “oil” is certainly meant to represent more than just static belief, that is, the fact that we believe in God, in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Church that He established on the rock of Peter to be the instrument of His salvation until the end of time.  The “oil” has to be more than just this.  I think the “oil” is meant to represent a living faith that not only believes these truths, but wants to do something about it; a faith that inspires us “lay down our lives,” to strive to conform ourselves totally to Christ.

          And so, perhaps, the next logical question is: “How can we make sure that we have enough of this oil, this “living faith,” so that when Christ the Bridegroom comes to us, whenever and however that may be, we are ready?”

          I would offer two ways: prayer and action.  First, prayer – we each need to be attentive to our own relationship with God, and like any good relationship this requires frequent communication.  We can’t really call ourselves Christians, if we do not pray, if we do not have regular communication with Christ.

          On this point, I think often of the example of Saint Teresa of Calcutta, better known to us simply as Mother Teresa.  She absolutely insisted that she and her sisters, the Missionaries of Charity, made a daily holy hour in front of the Blessed Sacrament.  Certainly, they had plenty of other things they could have used this time for in the never-ending work of serving the poor.  Some might have looked on this daily time of prayer as a “waste of time” when stacked next to the other important tasks of the day, but Mother Teresa found this to be indispensable to their mission.  This was their center.  She knew that by adoring Christ in the Blessed Sacrament under the “disguise” of bread and wine, she and her sisters would also better adore and serve the same Christ who came to them in the distressing disguise of the poor, the sick, and the dying.  Prayer was not in any way antithetical to their mission, but the vital fuel of their mission; like oil in a lamp.

          The other way that we can make sure that we have plenty of this “oil of living faith” in our lamps for the long haul is through action.  Just as we cannot really claim to be Christians if we never pray, we cannot really claim to be Christians if we do not find some way to serve others, to reach out the wider world around us, especially those most in need, the vulnerable and the marginalized.  Prayer by itself is not enough.  It needs to move us to action.  Prayer becomes the fuel for action, and action is motivated by our relationship with God in prayer.  In a sense, our action – our love of neighbor – gives flame to this “oil,” so that all those we encounter will see the light and experience the warmth of God’s love.

          I think a way that we remember the need for both prayer and action; a way that we can really put these two together is in the sign of the cross, which has at once a “vertical” and a “horizontal” dimension.  The vertical dimension is our prayer, be attentive to our personal relationship with God, with Christ. 

We see this expressed beautifully in the Mass, as we lift “up” our prayers to God and call “down” the Holy Spirit upon the elements of bread and wine.  We lift “up” our hearts and voices in praise and thanksgiving to God, and we ask that God “send down” His blessing upon us.  Of course, we know that God and heaven aren’t literally up or down, north, south, east or west, but you get my meaning.  There is this “vertical” relationship that we need to make sure in place.

          But there is also this “horizontal” dimension of our faith that is expressed in our liturgy as well.  We gather together around this altar Mass.  We dialogue with each other – “The Lord be with you.  And with your spirit.”  We prayer for the needs of our wider community and world. We exchange with each other a sign of peace.  We “break bread together,” sharing the Body and Blood of Christ in this communal feast that mirrors the wedding feast of heaven, and we are sent out into the world.

And so, there are these two “dimensions” to the cross and to our worship which should be reflected in our lives through prayer and action.  This is the “oil” of living faith that we should be sure to have an ample supply of, because we “know neither the day nor the hour” of the coming of the Bridegroom.