Living in the in between Times Matthew 25:1-13 November 10, 2002, Proper 27 The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi Every priest or preacher, if she or he is honest, occasionally comes up against a scriptural text which is either difficult to understand or to preach with integrity. Today I encounter such a text in our reading from Matthew. Biblical scholars disagree on the understanding of Jesus' parable. In reviewing various commentaries, I have found no one interpretation satisfactory, and most deal with issues with which we must struggle. Options in such cases include preaching on one of the other lectionary texts, preaching without integrity - neither of which would my homiletic training allow - or having you struggle with the text with me. This I invite you to do. First, as we come to the end of another liturgical year and anticipate another Advent season, for the next few weeks our readings will focus on the eschaton or, in Christian understanding, the end of time or second coming of Jesus. I struggle with the theology of this end of time thinking. I am skeptical of those who focus their attention on the last day: either trying to specify the exact day on which it will occur or focusing on the rapture concept in which some - them and others like them - will receive great reward and others - those unlike them - will be condemned to eternal torture. Second, today's Matthean text seems incompatible with other aspects of the Gospel. My problem is that at the surface level, it appears to operate the way I too often think. The wise bridesmaids not only take oil for their lamp, they take extra just to be safe. I can live with this. For short term journeys, such as vacations, I always assure we will have all we need in way of transportation, housing, food, and cash. I think or at least assume I have well prepared for my retirement years so that Diane and I can live comfortably. Therefore, at one level, I've got no problem with the outcome for the foolish bridesmaids. After all they suffer the consequence of their own actions. Being a well trained behaviorist from my days as a psychology student and therapist, I should have no problem with this. However, I do have two problems. First, I am married to Diane Livingston. You need to understand that living with Diane is like being married to Mother Theresa. When we plan ahead, we don't just plan for what we will need, we also plan ahead for the needs of everyone we know and anyone who may show up with an unexpected need. Not only that, I can imagine the conversation now: "Bill, they're running low on oil. They'll be lost in the dark and miss the wedding banquet. Let's give them some of ours." "No way," I retort, "then we won't have enough, and we'll be in the dark." Persistent as she can be in such situations, Diane concludes, "That's OK, at least we'll all be in the dark together, and besides, I couldn't enjoy the banquet knowing they didn't get there." Second, "Lord, Lord, open to us," they cry. But he replies: "truly I tell you, I do not know you." Harsh words. Can this be the same Jesus who eats with tax collectors and sinners, the Good Shepherd who leaves the flock to search out the one lost sheep? Which is it, Jesus, care for the hungry and the lost or lock the doors on those who aren't smart enough to plan ahead? Jesus' parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids isn't about lamp oil. It is about the wisdom of understanding and preparing for the kingdom of heaven. The beginning of wisdom is knowing we live simultaneously in the already and the not yet. We live in the already of the God who created and creates all that is out of love and the already of God coming among us in the form of Jesus and willingly allowing humanity to hang Jesus on the cross. However, we also live in the already in which humanity commits both physical violence against itself producing ever more effective means of mass murder and economic violence which leaves some having more wealth than they could ever consume while others starve to death. The beginning of wisdom is knowing which preparations are necessary. Children will have colds and run fever, so we keep decongestants and aspirin in our medicine cabinets. Medical costs sky rocket, so we have medical insurance. Life will be difficult, so we set aside time for our important relationships. However, wisdom goes farther. The issue isn't about stockpiling essential spiritual supplies the way we keep our medicine cabinets well stocked for emergencies or the way we maintain our medical insurance or retirement plans. No, it is not about having a ledger of good deeds we do, a well stocked memory of Bible verses, or a regime of spiritual exercises that keep us spiritually fit the same as physical exercises keep us physically fit. Instead, the issue is living in the already and the not yet. Our Christian teaching promises us the second coming of Jesus in the not yet. As we consider the evil that exists in the world, we cannot deny the delay of God's victory over darkness. Unless we accept the message of a billboard I used to pass between Hammond and Slidell, LA, which read, "AIDS, God's Judgment has come!" we recognize God's day is slow to dawn. The reality of the bridegroom's arrival that stretches beyond convenience, that seems inconsistent with how we would do things if we were in charge of the world, tempts us into wondering whether the groom will ever show. So, as I struggle with this text, I become aware that all the bridesmaids looked the same: all dressed in their wedding garments, all with lighted lamps - the way that on most Sundays most of us at Resurrection and any other church in the world look the same. However, 5 lived according to their own timetable and 5 according to the timetable of the bridegroom. As I struggle with the text, I become aware readiness is living the life of the kingdom, living the quality of life described in the Sermon on the Mount. Many can do this for a short while; but when the kingdom is delayed, our oil runs out. As I struggle with this text, I am reminded of how church attendance skyrocketed the Sunday after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, and how we talked about being a people united in faith in God, but as time has passed, we reverted to our normal ways and returned our trust to things other than God. In this struggle with the understanding of the second coming we learn to see each moment of decision making in the light of Christ's nearness, and therefore infused with grace. This disregard for linear thinking challenges our fixed creation-fall-redemption paradigm. The reconciling, re-creating work of God that Jesus announces is not confined to that moment in history. Jesus' life, death, and resurrection do not change God or God's way of being to and with us. Rather, Jesus makes known to us the healing, restorative work of God, which has always been and always will be, and which can heal and repair both past and future. And like the maidens in the parable, we do not know when or how we will be called upon. Just as death catches us up short, just as death interferes so decisively with our plans, so will the day of the Lord. Everyone's work and play and joy will come out unfinished. The only thing to do then, and it's a wonderful thing is to live each day fully alive, with as much authenticity and honesty and thanksgiving as we can muster to live - to live, as Alcoholics Anonymous teaches, one day at a time, recognizing every moment is precious - moments of God's love, God's grace, God's forgiveness, God's hope and joy. As we live in the ambiguity of the already and the not yet, wisdom holds firm to the promise but also seeks fresh understanding of what the promise means. I struggle when Scripture exposes to me a sovereign God who is radically different than me, whose mind I cannot read, whose decisions I cannot predict, whose actions I cannot control. However, those are the hands we are in, and our only choice is how we will handle our fear. Literally, our text asks the question, "What shall we do while we wait?" The immanent kingdom exists in and out of time and comes outside of and within us. God is at work whether we recognize it or not, and yet unless we allow ourselves to be grasped by God's presence, we will remain outside of the banquet. The good news is that the bridegroom comes not just once, but over and over again, opening wide the banquet door to see if we are ready to be received into his feast of hospitality.