Oil of Wisdom
From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul
Oil of Wisdom: 6th November 2011: am: The Very Revd Frank Nelson
- Psalm 78: 1 - 8
- Joshua 24: 1 – 3, 14 - 25
- 1 Thessalonians 4: 9 - 18
- Matthew 25: 1 - 13
“If you wish to be wise, attend to the experiences of daily life, and in them seek after God.”
Writing in the Church Times, Martin Warner concludes his short meditation on today’s readings with these words. They point to the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids told by Jesus and recorded by Matthew towards the end of his Gospel. The events in the parable, the ten bridesmaids waiting with their lamps for the bridegroom, make little sense in our day. But in ancient Palestinian times the story would have resonated with all present. As so often in the parables, Jesus picks up on some very ordinary incident or event and uses it to make a point. Among the everyday examples Jesus used to illustrate his teaching were the weeds in the field, the birds which pecked up the seeds that fell on the path, the woman who lost one of her precious wedding silver coins, the father who grieved for his wayward son or, as we will hear in next Sunday’s Gospel, the sheep and goats being separated into different folds overnight.
No doubt there were some among those who listened to Jesus who knew what it was like to run out of oil for their lamps, just at the crucial time when it was most needed. We can imagine the chuckles of the people, the exchanged glance between those who knew or had witnessed the embarrassment of a friend. Most of the time being short of oil probably doesn’t matter too much. Every now and again it does. I suppose it is not that different to the preparations we make for that unknown time in the future, when we will need batteries, a transistor radio, or canned food and warm blankets. Earthquakes in Christchurch shake us out of our lethargy, and we take careful stock of our stores. But the months pass and we drop back into our more normal pattern of life as usual.
In the context of Matthew’s Gospel this story of the wise and foolish bridesmaids comes near the end. As Jesus moves towards the end of his life, he knows his disciples will have to make some tough decisions. They too will be put to the test. Will they be ready? Will they stand by him, continuing to live out his teaching which they have so eagerly accepted? Will they be strong enough, have enough oil, to last through the night?
In some ways both of today’s other readings pick up the theme of being ready, being wise, being well equipped to deal with whatever comes our way. In what is likely St Paul’s very first letter to a church he urges the Thessalonians to get on with their lives quietly, minding their own affairs, not giving anyone cause to take offence. He talks too about the need to know what they believe – especially when it comes to death. Paul encourages them to grieve the death of loved ones in a way quite different to those around them. Having faith in Jesus Christ means they can grieve, but with hope. Listening to the long funeral eulogies which have become so popular these days, I often find myself wondering whether the need for the long orations is because there is no Christian hope among the family and friends of the deceased. How different these funerals are, with the need to fill the church with images of the dead person and play quite inappropriate music, from the quiet dignified beauty of last Wednesday night’s service where, as the Choir sang Faure’s Requiem, people came and lit candles on the chancel steps. Waiting at the door to greet people after the service I looked down the aisle and was quite taken by the sheer beauty of the candles, burning in the shape of a cross – that ultimate symbol of hope in death. Advent Sunday is just a few weeks away. Perhaps more than any other of the many lovely services we offer here, our service of Darkness to Light invites us to think carefully about where our hope comes from. Can something as simple as a lighted candle really much such a difference to our outlook and understanding of life?
Like all good leaders Joshua calls on the people to think again about the choices they will make. Are they prepared to continue to put their faith in God, the God served by their ancestors – or will they follow the gods of the people among whom they now live? What is the cost to worshipping God? Is it acceptable? And if they do not accept Joshua as their leader in following the God of their ancestors, what then? Wisdom suggests making an informed decision with your eyes open.
We are being bombarded at present with a good number of people clamouring for our vote. Each lays out their reasons why their call is worthy of our vote. It is often difficult to choose. Like it or not, our present system of electing members to parliament is all too easily driven by popularity, who comes across best in the sound-bites the media choose to offer, or even the unlikely worm which seemed to so influence us all a few years ago. Nor is it only politics where we have to choose. At a gathering this afternoon we will have the opportunity to think together about how best to choose our new leader for the Diocese, when we come to elect a bishop in March next year. Among the outcomes sought from today is a list of questions to be put to each of those nominated for the position of bishop.
As we well know, wisdom that comes from hindsight is a wonderful gift. I suspect each of us has thought at some time or other, “I could have told you.” But the really wise person is the one who sees in the ordinary and everyday things the signs from God and chooses accordingly. Sufficient oil, belief in God which translates into a quiet hope-filled faith, the willingness to accept that sometimes we make mistakes in our choices, even of leaders – these are the everyday experiences of life, the stuff of parables that make us think.
At the beginning of Matthew’s Gospel the wise men bring gifts to the baby Jesus. At the end of the Gospel it is not gold, frankincense and myrrh that are needed, but a goodly supply of common lamp oil.
In a week of hard political campaigning, news of the imminent de-consecration of Christchurch Cathedral, and the resignation of half the clergy staff at St Paul’s London perhaps oil is about all we can realistically expect to cope with. I am reminded of the Northumbrian Prayer which Canon Jenny is fond of using. It seems to fit well with Martin Warner’s words that I quoted at the beginning of this sermon. “If you wish to be wise, attend to the experiences of daily life, and in them seek after God.”
Lord, You have always given bread for the coming day; and though I am poor, today I believe.
Lord, You have always given strength for the coming days; and though I am weak, today I believe.
Lord, You have always given peace for the coming day; and though of anxious heart, today I believe.
Lord, You have always kept me safe in trials; and now, tired as I am, today I believe.
Lord, You have always marked the road for the coming day; and though it may be hidden, today I believe.
Lord, You have always lightened the darkness of mine; and though the night is here, today I believe.
Lord, You have always spoken when the time was ripe; and though you be silent now, today I believe.
