“Don’t play with fire,” is an instruction we receive early in life from parents, camp counselors, Smoky the Bear. Fire, so cozy and warm in a fireplace, so romantic or spiritual on the ends of candles, can be so destructive if uncontained.
In our faith lives, however, we are invited not only to play, but to dance with fire, the fire of God. Perhaps I’m overly taken with this notion that the ten bridesmaids in Jesus’ story needed their lamps to dance in procession, escorting the bridegroom to his waiting bride. I love the image of flames weaving through the darkened streets, building up anticipation of the joyful union to come. It’s a beautiful metaphor for how we can live out our identity as Christ followers, bearing his light into the world.
Do you wake up every morning and think, “I am a bearer of light?” The shortening days around us in the northern hemisphere can be a good reminder. And if we commit ourselves to being light-bearers, we’ll need to keep our oil reservoirs full, just like the bridesmaids in our story.
In the early church, oil was a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Many baptismal rites relied heavily on oil for anointing as a sign of the imparting of the Spirit. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, reminds them that they were “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit” as a pledge of their spiritual inheritance, already available to them. We receive the same sign, a cross marked in oil on our foreheads, at our baptisms.
It is the Holy Spirit who inspires us to ministries, large and small. It is the Spirit who equips us with the gifts we need for what we feel called to do. It is the Spirit who empowers us, working through us so that we can do so much more than we can ask or imagine, to quote Paul again. It is the Spirit who brings us peace, and union with Christ.
How do we keep our reservoirs filed with the Spirit? Pray. The prayer, “Holy Spirit, fill me…” is one God answers. In our human limitation, we often need to pray to be refilled, for we are leaky vessels. And the oil we need comes free; it cannot be bought, as the foolish bridesmaids attempted to do. The prayer reminds us that any light-bearing we might accomplish that makes a difference to the people walking in darkness, will be by the Spirit’s power in us, not ours alone. We can’t lose with the prayer to be filled with the Spirit.
Have you noticed some dark streets or darkened hearts that could use some light? Do you feel you have some to share, or is your flame a bit dim? We’ve learned this week about keeping our lamps trimmed through spiritual practices that open us to God’s abundant life. Add to those a regular prayer of, “Holy Spirit, fill me,” and we are always ready when the cry comes to greet the Bridegroom.
The world needs not only the light we bring – it also needs our joy. So we dance with our lights, as the bridesmaids danced the Bridegroom to his wedding feast and beloved bride. The bride is the church – a community of individuals in varying stages of coming to know Christ. Every time we dance the presence of Christ through the dark to a person waiting to receive him, we draw nearer to him ourselves.
To receive Water Daily by
email each morning, subscribe here.
I like happy endings. Yet I recognize that what is a happy ending for one is often not for another. Victory in a game, or a war, or – oh yeah, an election – means defeat for someone else. Not all happy endings have a sad flipside, but many do. So I’m not crazy about the way Jesus’ story of the bridesmaids ends. When the foolish bridesmaids discover their lamps are going out due to insufficient oil, they ask the ones who thought to bring extra to share some, and are told:
“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.”
I envision a crowd outside a popular nightspot, with a bouncer letting in the “cool ones” and keeping out those who are not on the list, not connected. But these bridesmaids thought they were connected. “Check it again,” they cry, “I’m sure we’re on there. We’re bridesmaids! We just had to run and get more oil.” But the answer is cold as ice: “I do not know you.”
Is this how Jesus will respond to us if we’re unprepared or late? His “punchline” to the story is: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Is there no room for complacency? No missing the boat? And what about those who never knew about the club in the first place?
We encounter this harsh teaching at the end of a few parables. It seems to counter to the message of acceptance and grace Jesus so often extended to people. He seemed most harsh with those who should know better – the religious leaders and his own disciples. These “foolish” bridesmaids represent people who’ve already made a commitment to the realm of God. There’s no excuse for them not being ready to fulfill their mission. Is there?
How do you feel as a disciple of Jesus Christ – prepared? Equipped? Your lamp lit and oil reservoir full? If not, what do you feel you are lacking? Can you come into conversation with Jesus about that today? Ask him where the resources are, and as you wait for response, think about your circumstances and the people around you. What else do you need, and who else do you need to more fully engage in God’s mission of reclaiming, restoring, renewing?
And if you feel the foolish bridesmaids got a raw deal, and fear you’d be in the same boat, that is definitely something to talk over with Jesus in prayer. Relationships require honest communication.
At the end of The Story, I hope and pray that door stays open to all who come, at whatever hour, as another of Jesus’ stories teaches us. In the meantime, we are invited to trust in God’s mercy and live into the mission which Jesus has entrusted to us – always ready to carry the light.
To receive Water Daily by
email each morning, subscribe here.
Jesus’ parables often seem upside down at first glance. In this one we see half the bridesmaids rewarded for refusing to share, and others punished severely for merely failing to prepare. Hmmm. The nap they all took while waiting for the bridegroom to show up does not seem to have been a problem, and each had taken care to prepare her own lamp. The issue was that half of them had not thought ahead.
“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.’”
Had the lamps had been lit earlier, when they thought the bridegroom would come any minute? Were they burning during nap time? Whatever the reason, the five foolish bridesmaids had not foreseen the need for extra oil. They’d brought just enough, which turned out to be not enough at all. And the wise (or “fuelish?”) were not about to share.
Wait a minute – isn’t Jesus pro sharing? Loving your neighbor as yourself? Doing unto others? What’s up with the selfish bridesmaids, and why does he deem them “wise?” Let’s think about it. Sharing the extra oil they’d brought would have ensured that no one would have enough. All the lamps would go out, and the bridegroom would arrive to darkness. No procession, no dancing, no lights. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to find his bride. This falls into the category of the airplane instructions to put on your own oxygen mask before helping children and other passengers.
If Jesus’ story is a metaphor about God’s Bridegroom coming into the hearts of humankind to draw us into union with God, then the absence of light is a grave problem. The wise bridesmaids have their eye on the big picture, the over-all mission, where the foolish ones can’t see past their personal success or failure. The kind of disciples God needs, Jesus suggests, are those who are conscious, aware, prepared, and focused enough on shining God's light in this world to not allow distractions to pull them off-mission.
In our day we know a thing or two about distraction – media, data, noise, busyness all seem to be increasing. And in our post-Christendom culture, there are fewer external supports to living our lives focused on Christ – and a lot more competition. Soccer on Sundays isn’t the half of it. I know people who hold back from a deeper spiritual commitment because their spouse or partner is not interested. I know many people who let their workload dictate their priorities (often I’m one of them).
It is not selfish to preserve time to be quiet with God, to foster your relationship with Christ. When we’re in love, we don’t question the amount of time we spend with our beloved. Jesus invites us into a relationship of love in which he becomes our first priority. If what we’re promised is true, he is our one eternal relationship – getting to know him and letting him get close to us is the greatest gift we can give to the people in our lives, no matter their short-term needs.
When we are refreshed, we are much more effective as representatives of God in the world. We are more finely tuned to discerning need around us and to the movement of the Spirit in us. We are quicker to recognize our own faults and invite Jesus to set us free. We become wedding attendants who can dance Jesus into the hearts of those who might be ready to fall in love with him. He’ll do the rest.
To receive Water Daily by
email each morning, subscribe here.
