A wedding feast is an image Our Lord often used to describe heaven. During these final weeks of the liturgical year the Church would have us reflect on what the catechism calls the last things: death, judgment, heaven, and hell.
In his parable, Jesus provides a glimpse of the wedding customs of his time. In those days, a wedding was not celebrated on a single day but for an entire week. The newlywed did not go away on a honeymoon but remained at home and held an “open house.” The friends of the bride would keep watch to welcome the groom when he arrived at the bride’s home. This was usually late at night and the bride’s maids would escort him holding aloft lighted lamps.
Jesus inserts us into this wedding scene and contrasts the attitudes of the ten virgins—five wise and five foolish—who attended the groom. They teach us something about living the Christian life.
The wise virgins were well equipped to carry out their task. They had planned ahead, taking extra containers of oil in case the groom arrived later than expected. In a word, they were prudent. Prudence is a virtue. It derives from the Latin word, providentia meaning seeing ahead, shrewdness or insight.
The foolish virgins by contrast were imprudent. They had not prepared in advance. They were ill-equipped for the task at hand. They made no provision for a late arrival by the groom. Perhaps carrying extra-oil was too burdensome.
The lesson here is clear. The Christian must be prepared, vigilant, ready. We do not know when Christ the bridegroom will come at the end of time. We do not know when our life on this earth will end and we shall be judged. Our urgent task is to check our lamp. We have to continually replenish the oil in our lamp.
We should not be deceived in thinking that we have more than enough time to straighten out our spiritual lives, to make amends with others, to do good, to get to that confession I have long put off. Some people decide to be saved at the 11th hour and die at ten-thirty!
There is yet another lesson for us. The foolish virgins sought to remedy their embarrassment and inadequacy by appealing to the wise virgins. Without even a word to admit they were wrong, they demanded, “Give us some of your oil. The request was refused, and they were told to go out and try to find some.
Were the wise virgins selfish or uncharitable? Should they not have come to the aid of these poor supplicants? I think not. They wanted the groom to be welcomed as he deserved—better five bright lamps than ten dim lamps. We should want our own lamp—the lamp of faith—to be bright. At times, by adopting the way of the crowd or popular culture we risk dimming our light.
There are just some things that cannot be borrowed. We cannot treat our spiritual life like students who let the school year go by, taking things easy without a thought to study and then when exam time comes, expect our friends to give us the fruits of their labors and their time.
We cannot always be living on the spiritual capital which others have amassed. At the pearly gates we cannot say to St. Peter, “You’ve got to let me in, my grandmother was a daily communicant.” “My father volunteered at Mt. Carmel Guild and prayed the rosary every night.” St. Peter would reply, “That is surely oil in their lamps. What of your own?” Grandmom’s holiness can inspire but it cannot be borrowed. Let us cultivate and be responsible for our own.
