<font color='black' size='4' face='Times New Roman, Times, serif'><strong><font size="4"><font color="#33cc00">Preaching
Matthew
25:1-13 (along with All Saints Day resources) <font color="#000000"><small><small>at</small></small></font>
</font></font></strong><a target="_blank" __removedlink__1923639954__href="http://www.goodpreacher.com/shareit/readreviews.php?cat=46">Quick Access</a>
<font size="4"><font face="Times New Roman, Times, serif"><br>
<br>
</font></font>
<div><em><font size="4">Then the kingdom of heaven will be like
this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went out to meet the
bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five of them were wise. When
the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise
took flasks of oil with their lamps.</font></em></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">Let me first say that I stand
corrected: I thought this passage wasn’t in the lectionary. I’ve even <em>preached</em>
that this passage isn’t in the lectionary. I don’t know how I ever
reached such a conclusion (I’m sure idiocy figured in there, somehow),
but I do have a theory. I think this parable scares the hell out of
most of us. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">The story of the wise and
foolish bridesmaids is not a text for the faint-hearted. It’s scary and
damning and irrevocable, as stories about the end of the world have a
tendency to be. It has terrible characters (those smarmy bridesmaids!)
and disturbing plot developments (Jesus the gate-keeping troll?!).
Worst of all, it has a history of atrocious and abusive
interpretation—and all the collateral damage that goes with that. More
people than you might think have some seriously bad memories of this
text. (One example: a man in Nashville told me that when he was in high
school, his teacher took great pleasure in slamming the classroom door
as soon as the bell rang, and then saying with relish to every late
student who knocked at the door, "Truly I tell you, I do not know
you.") Preach this parable, and you have to be ready to rehabilitate
it; you might even have to cast out some demons. I suspect that is why
many of us choose not to preach it, and others of us (me) forget that
it really is in the lectionary. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">So let me suggest one approach
for preaching this text that is not intended to beat up, dumb down or
lock out the listener (or the preacher, for that matter). Take a look
at the oil in those lamps. What kind of oil are we talking about?</font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">Something we hoard and keep
only for ourselves? Something we sell to others for profit? Something
we earn with faith and good behavior, as the Prayer of Jabez suggests? </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">I’m not so sure. The parable
doesn’t say a word about whether the bridesmaids had any oil at home.
It doesn’t tell us if the wise ones were hoarding it, or the foolish
ones hadn’t had time to get to the store yet. It doesn’t tell us what
they had in their savings accounts, or how generous they were with
their worldly goods. For all we know, the wise bridesmaids were down to
their last flask of oil, and the foolish bridesmaids were sitting on
barrels of the stuff; the parable doesn’t tell us. Its only concern is
what they brought with them when they left the house. That’s
significant, I think. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">Maybe this is not a story about
how much oil you have. Maybe this is a story about the oil you carry
with you. The parable is very clear: all ten bridesmaids had lamps, but
five of them were foolish, and five of them were wise. The wise ones
brought flasks of oil with their lamps when it’s time to wait for the
bridegroom. The foolish ones showed up with lamps, and nothing to keep
them going. When your lamp goes out, you may have gallons of oil
sitting at home, but it’s not going to do you any good there. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">So what does that look like,
the kind of oil you carry with you? What does that look like, if it’s
not a commodity that we buy and sell?</font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">Maybe it depends on the kind of
oil we’re talking about. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">A friend of mine, the Reverend
Liz Forney, once gave a lecture to our students at Columbia about the
spiritual life of the preacher. She brought an oil lamp, the kind with
a wick and real oil in the bottom, and talked about how the role of the
pastor is to be a light for others—"the light of the world." Then she
lit the wick, and we watched the lamp burn. But (and here was the
rigged part), because there was only a tiny bit of oil in that lamp, it
only burned for a few moments. She asked the students: what happens
when the oil runs out? Well, then your light goes out, and you have
nothing to give. A pastor with no oil, a Christian with no oil, can’t
be the light of the world for anybody, no matter how much they want to
be. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">What fills you up spiritually
when you run dry? What replenishes your oil? Where do you find God, and
how can you make sure that you get enough of that oil for your lamp, so
that God can fill you up again? Because you <em>will</em> run dry.
When you do, you can’t be a light for anybody. Remember the safety
speech we hear on airplanes? "In the event of an emergency, oxygen
masks will drop from the ceiling; however, be sure to secure your own
oxygen mask first before assisting others."</font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4"><em>Filling your lamp:</em>
it’s not really negotiable. You have to do it. There are some kinds of
oil you can’t borrow from anyone else, as the bridesmaids learned. You
can borrow your friend’s homework, but not the hours they put in
studying for the test. You can borrow your neighbor’s lawnmower, but
not their peace of mind. There are some kinds of preparation we can
only do for ourselves, reserves that no one else can build up for us.
We have to figure out what fills us up, spiritually, and then make sure
we have some to carry with us, every single minute of the day, because
that’s how often you’ll need it.</font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">I think those preachers who use
this parable as a way to scare us all straight are missing the point.
You don’t fill your lamp because you’re afraid you’re going to get
locked out of the Kingdom of Heaven. You don’t stockpile oil because
you then can turn everybody else away. No; you just stop at the filling
station, and fill your flask, and take it with you, because you can’t
wait to meet the bridegroom. You fill it out of joy. That’s the only
price of oil, when you think about it: the desire to meet Jesus when he
comes. Which he will. Soon. </font></div>
<div align="justify"><font size="4">Anna Carter Florence<font face="Times New Roman, Times, serif"><br>
</font></font></div>
<div align="justify"><br>
<font size="4"><font face="Times New Roman, Times, serif"></font></font></div>
<font face="Microsoft Sans Serif" size="3"><b><a target="_blank" __removedlink__1923639954__href="http://www.goodpreacher.com/index.php">Goodpreacher.com<font face="Times New Roman, Times, serif"><br>
<br>
</font></a></b></font></font>