Pentecost 23 A – The Waiting
Dear Partner in Preaching,
The refrain from Tom Petty’s “The Waiting” kept coming to mind while reading the parable of the bridesmaids.[1] You probably remember the plaintive quality of the so recently deceased Petty’s singing, adding at least a third syllable to “waiting”: “The waiting is the hardest part. Every day you see one more card. You take it on faith, You take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part.”
In her commentary on Working Preacher, Dr. Susan Hylen offers what I found to be a really helpful insight:
the point of the parable is not constant readiness. “Keep awake” does not imply that the disciples should never sleep, standing vigil through the ages for Christ’s imminent return. In fact, all of the bridesmaids, wise and foolish, are asleep when the shout announces the groom’s approach.
What is distinctive about this parable is its focus on the delayed return of the expected one. The passage does not simply call for right action in the groom’s absence. It calls for recognition that he may be delayed.
By the time Matthew wrote this parable, the discipleship community may have been waiting for Jesus’ return for fifty years or more. Most of the eye-witnesses were likely dead. The church had spread, but it had also been oppressed. The Temple revered by both the Jews who confessed Jesus and those who did not had been destroyed, wreaking havoc on Jewish and Christian communities (sometimes worshiping together) alike. Where was Jesus? Yes, the waiting is the hardest part.
Given the anxiety experienced by the Thessalonians (which Paul tries to address in the appointed epistle reading) thirty years earlier, it’s understandable that Matthew would offer a series of parables underscoring both the need for preparedness and the difficulty of waiting. Now extend that challenge two millennia forward to our communities and you can appreciate how little sense it will make to twenty-first century communities to speak about waiting or preparing for Christ’s return, the delay of which already perplexed and vexed first-century communities. The apocalyptic imagination of the earliest Christians (including Paul), even if tempered by a half-century of delay (Matthew’s situation), has dissipated significantly in the two thousand years since.
And yet the difficulty of waiting is still present. Perhaps more than ever, as we live in a culture where delayed gratification is nearly intolerable and any waiting is often seen as a waste of time.
I have suggested before that the theme of “waiting” may be a helpful approach to this challenging parable, and will do so again, highlighting this time that not all waiting is the same. Waiting for something good – the birth of a healthy child, the closing on the house of your dreams, the promotion in a job or acceptance from college – is a lot different than waiting for something that is hard – waiting to see if this time you will be able to get pregnant, or for the foreclosure of your home because you couldn’t make the payment, or the doctor’s report confirming that the cancer has returned. And whether you are waiting for something good or bad, when the anticipated arrival is delayed, it’s almost always anxiety-provoking: why haven’t I heard from the college admissions office? Have they arrived safely? When will we hear from the doctor? The waiting, indeed, is the hardest part.
Perhaps, then, two responses. When the waiting is for something positive, can we slow down to see in the moments of preparation and anticipation blessing. Once it’s here – the baby, the job, the acceptance, life will take on its own new and likely hectic timing. Can waiting at times be seen as gift rather than obstacle? Perhaps practice in waiting for those things we look forward to can help us to increase our patience and perseverance in other areas.
When waiting is not for something positive, or when it is made harder by delay, can we assure people that they will not wait alone? The obvious tragedy in the parable is that five of the bridesmaids took no oil at all. They didn’t run out. They just didn’t bring any, making no plans, anticipating no delay. Surely there is something to learn here. But the less obvious, but also poignant, tragedy is that the five who had brought “flasks of oil” would not share. Why do they assume there will not be enough for all? The announcement of the groom’s imminent arrival had already been sounded, after all. Can we also learn from the wise but ungenerous bridesmaids and not force people to wait alone, so that no one in our communities has the isolating experience of being locked out?
We often wonder what we can do as communities of faith to make what we offer more attractive to a culture increasingly disinterested with organized religion. Might we offer ourselves as a community that…. Wait, maybe that’s enough! Can we offer ourselves as a genuine community in a world where more and more people feel isolated? A community that celebrates together. That slows down to prepare together. And that waits together, making sure when the waiting is the hardest part that no one – not one person – has to wait alone? The waiting is the hardest part. We can’t change that reality, but we can change the experience by waiting together, in Christian solidarity, community, and fellowship.
It’s just a thought, Dear Partner, and you will have others, I’m sure. As always, I’m grateful for your proclamation and your fidelity. Blessings on your preaching.
Yours in Christ,
David
[1] Yes, I’ve decided to rename this parable, choosing to focus on all of the bridesmaids, not just some, and avoiding the pejorative descriptor that has too often in the church been applied to women far more frequently than to men.
I am intrigued by the idea of a Church as the unique community where the ministry of presence is a focus. I currently serve a congregation much like that. We also have a strong social concerns ministry that includes the ministry of presence among our homeless community who seek shelter in our local temporary church shelters called Winter Hospitality Overflow (WHO).
Also as I reflect on this text, I am reminded of my mentor who urged me to remember the need for Sabbath. He would often say, “you have to refill the oil in your lamp or you will surely burn out.” His point was the greatest threat for pastors is that of burnout–running out of oil thus diminishing or even shortening our ministry. Think of the effect of burnout on our members and families.
In today’s high tension world I wonder if there is not a good word here about the need to embrace the idea of the both communal ministry of presence and intentional self care as two sides to the same coin. If your congregation is like mine, the parents are constantly on the run and the kids are exhausted. Folks are working long hours or adding things like Uber to their plate to make ends meet. With all the tragedy in the news, political and social stress, and uncertainty there is great concern for the future and people are emotionally exhausted. So where to go with this?
My thought is the “oil” of grace. We are marked and sealed by the cross of Christ in oil at our baptism. In baptism we are adopted, enfolded, and fully welcomed by the bridegroom. Making regular use of the Means of Grace, taking time to catch our breath with genuine Sabbath practices, and yes standing by in the waiting of our brothers and sister with plenty of extra oil to share.
Also, NT Wright has a great commentary series in which the volume, Mathew for Everyone, volume II, offers some wonderful insights. It is available on Kindle.
He points to three possibilities:
– The Jewish tradition of contrasting Wisdom and Folly
– Preparedness, having your act together for when crisis arises; also kingdom opportunites
– Jesus messiahship and its implications for the world
David, we must be thinking along the same lines today. My sermon’s half written, and my opening illustration comes from Petty’s song, “The Waiting.” Very cool. As always, thanks for your words of encouragement and ministry to me and my preaching.
Thank you so much David for this ministry to us as preachers. I can’t tell you how many weeks I would have been stuck without your insights to get my creative theologian juices flowing. This week’s post is especially on point. Thanks for continuing to carve out the time each week to inspire your fellow partners in preaching. You are a blessing!
A former student….Jeff Smith
I have to admit that I have a real problem with the selfishness of half the bridesmaids, who refuse to share what they have. Okay, so maybe the others should have thought ahead, but this parable seems to reek of works righteousness and its rewards. But then, so do the parables surrounding it. I guess my struggle is balancing being prepared not just for the coming, but for the waiting until the arrival. In our “are we there yet” culture, maybe simply pondering that idea and how it relates to faithfulness is enough. As warnings of the “rapture” continue, maybe it’s also wise to remind ourselves of the hope of Jesus’ coming instead of the dread so many use as a weapon. The alternatives of the community of the hopeful rise with the warnings of the dreadful.
I’m intrigued by the idea that those who had oil could have shared what they had. Curious about possible connections with the Hanukkah legend (1 day’s worth of oil miraculously burning for 8 days).From what I can find, though Hanukkah was being celebrated prior to Jesus’time, there’s no mention of the miraculous oil story in Jewish texts until the Talmud, centuries after Matthew was written. But would the legend have been circulating orally in Jesus’ and/or Matthew’s day? If so, the original audience would have heard its echoes in Jesus’ parable …. Didn’t the “wise” bridesmaids remember what God had done with one tiny vial of oil back in 165 BCE? If anyone has information to confirm or refute the possibility that the miraculous oil legend was circulating in the 1st c. CE, please share!
Thanks for helping us find grace in this text. Blessings on your ministry!
First, thank you for the way you titled your piece.
We are in our second year of returning to the longer seven week Advent, so this will be Advent 1 for us. As the lectionary never left the original longer Advent, we too are having to hear this gospel message.
I am led to wonder if waiting was the point here. The bridegroom was delayed – but…perhaps we are meant to go out to where he is. Christ is alive and at work in the world. The Holy Spirit is all about calling us into God’s work. Perhaps had all those waiting gone out to meet the one expected, there would be no issue with regard to oil (or our own faith, which is fed when we are engaged in the gospel mission to love and to serve).
Also, when looking at the Amos text, it seems that there might be a message for us in this day and age with regard to compassion fatigue – we all need rest, but how we get that rest is a question. When we come to church, we are restored & renewed in the Word & the Word made flesh in our Eucharist. Perhaps by meeting Jesus where he is today – in the world, and at the table, we are able to get the rest we need to continue to work for justice and peace – to be the prophetic witnesses we were born to be.
As for the last bit about being left out in the darkness and the selfishness of the others, I wonder if the author/s of Matthew were just flat out wrong (well, I feel that way a lot with this gospel). The Jesus we know is one who opens doors, not closes them. This sounds more like “preaching human precepts as doctrine,” and I think I will choose to call it out as such.
Finally, I think I want to have a direct conversation with my parish in this sermon about the idea of the “return” of a Christ that we proclaim every Sunday “IS” – how does one return when one is still very present with us – Jesus never left the building.
David, thank you for all the insightful commentary. Your blog, and Sermon Brainwave (which you created), are always my go-to sermon prep.
David thank you for your ministry to us. I enjoy your suggestions each week because they appeal to my desire to find the other way of looking at things than the usual one.
I struggled with this parable, especially the end when Jesus shuts the door and locks out the foolish maids. I have to admit that I have done and continued to be amazed at some of the foolish things I have done. After reading your notes I went back to my commentary for study and all I could hear sounded like “works” to me. The question kept rolling around in my head “How do we know when vigilant enough or prepared enough?”
Then I read “A Christian Love Story” by Zola Levitt. He discusses how one got married at the time of Jesus. In reading his little book, I was reminded that as part of the church I am the bride, not a bridesmaid! I have been bought and paid for by Jesus the moment that I proclaimed him as my Lord and Savior. That is the good news, we are the bride.
When we put the parable back in the context we are given it, Jesus is talking to the religious authorities and the people telling them they must make a choice, either for Jesus and eternal life with him or against him to certain death.
As the bride it is our responsibility to go out and tell our family, friends, neighbors and every one we meet about “the love of our lives” Jesus.
David, Thank you for your ministry to us each week. Thank you also to the many commenters who bring a communal wealth of places of grace in this text. I struggle with several parables in Matthew, but more-so this one, so I am grateful to you and to the commenters and to other proclaimers of the Gospel, esp. Barbara Brown Taylor with her published collection of at least some of her sermons on Matthean texts, who bring a Word of grace each week.