Wis 6:12-16
Ps 63
1 Thess 4:13-18
Mt 25:1-13
The reading from Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians is appropriate for this month in which we commemorate the souls of dead in a particular way. The Catholic Church sets itself apart from many Protestant denominations by her persistent and daily prayer for those who have died. Indeed, the prayers and liturgies for the dead are among the most consoling gifts of being Catholic.
My first funeral was for a college roommate, a friend of forty years who was at our ordination eleven months earlier. My legs turned to rubber as I approached the ambo for the homily. I was increasingly shaky--and shaking--as the consecration approached. And then something happened. As I elevated the Sacred Body of Our Lord I realized in the depth of my being that though the physician had lost the struggle with disease--as he always will and must--the priest had won a victory that would never be diminished or surpassed. The shakiness vanished. It never recurred at subsequent funerals for family--my mom, my sister--or friends.
The first reading at Chris' funeral was from the Book of Wisdom. "The souls of the just are in the hands of God and no torment shall touch them." Never has that truth and consolation been more real than it was at the moment of consecration a few minutes later. The wisdom gained at that moment, an experienceI can never forget, has stood me in good stead over the years.
What is wisdom? It is a word that is tossed about sometimes without thinking. The first reading tells us that Wisdom is resplendent and unfading, perceived by those who love her and found by those who seek her. But these descriptions do not define wisdom. Proverbs 9 verse 10 gives a definition. "The beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord." That verse can be the basis of a homily in and of itself. But that will have to wait for another time.
One way to know wisdom is to know what wisdom is not: It is not cleverness. Many clever men and women are anything but wise. Wisdom is not cunning, slyness, or the ability to manipulate others into doing one's bidding. Neither science nor scientific learning impart or guarantee wisdom.
Wisdom may accrue with age--heavy underline may--but, after forty-five years in geriatrics it is apparent that the foolishness of youth can survive well into old age.
Psychologist Erik Erikson defines wisdom as a positive outcome of a life well-lived and understood. He makes a compelling argument but notes that the opposite is possible as well.
Ultimately, we have the example of Solomon to give us a positive definition of wisdom.
When told by the Lord to ask for anything he wanted, Solomon asked not for wealth, power, or a long life but for wisdom so as to have an understanding heart, the ability to discern between good and evil, and the grace to rule with justice. Wisdom includes the knowledge of life and living. It includes the knowledge of God that grows along with us. Wisdom reminds us of the necessity of prayer, the sacraments, and caring for others.
The parable reminds us of the need to remain awake and prepared for that time when we are called to render an accounting of our lives. We do not know the future. We do not know the time. We do not know the way. We do not know when the householder will return or when will the master arrive home from his travels. We do not know when the groom will return now ready for the banquet.
It is no surprise that the women awaiting the groom to begin the wedding feast--women who symbolize us--became sleepy. It had been a long and exciting day. Perhaps they had had many things to prepare beforehand. They expected to wait. Some, but not all of them, were prepared and provisioned for that long wait. And only the wise virgins who were prepared, were allowed into the hall when the bridegroom arrived for the banquet of the lamb.
I was disgruntled with the original version of this part of the homily. Until last night when I edited a homily on this gospel for Fr. Peter, a Chinese friend who included something I'd never considered. He wrote, "many wonder why the five wise virgins didn’t share their oil? Why were they so mean and withholding?” Were they truly mean? Were they completely lacking in generosity? No, they were not.
This is after all a parable, a mix of narrative, metaphor, simile, and hyperbole. The oil represents something intangible. That intangible is our relationship with God. That relationship must be personally developed. We must bring it along with us. It cannot be given to us by someone else.
I was particularly taken with Father's image below.
"When we die and face God’s judgment, we cannot say, “Please let me in, my mother was very pious.” Or “Lord, please let me in, my grandpa was a devout Catholic. He prayed a lot.”
People around us can help us build our relationship with God, they can show us the way and light the path, but no one can do it for us. No one can serve as our substitute. We must build and maintain that relationship with God on our own. We have a choice. That choice exists because of free will, God's gift to humankind that sets us apart from all lower animals.
We can imitate the wise virgins in their preparedness who, despite their fatigue and sleep and despite the challenges of life and living were ready at a moment's notice. Or we can imitate the foolish virgins in their carelessness, who, when they finally struggled awake, when they finally realized their error, were unable to accompany the bridegroom because they were not prepared.
The psalm reminded us that
"Light dawns for the just;
and gladness, for the upright of heart."
We can add, light and eternal joy dawn for the wise who are watchful and prepared.
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The photo below is one of the holy oils on a credence table the afternoon of Holy Saturday. It is an older shot as I have not been to Plymouth the celebrate the Triduum in a very long time. I was intrigued by the reflections of the stained glass and the paintings on the ceiling of the church in which I grew up. Because of the Agnes flood in June 1972 and a very ugly remodeling about ten years later. When three churches were brought together as one parish (more than half the population of the town has been lost since I was a kid) the ugly remodel was undone and the church brought back to a more appropriate esthetic.
+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD
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