Waiting and Preparing

A sermon for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, November 12, 2023. The scripture readings are Wisdom of Solomon 6:12-16, Psalm 70, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, and Matthew 25:1-13.

I was able to part of last week with Father Graham Buckle and our link parish of St. Stephen’s, London. I participated in their soup kitchen, in their prayers, and I there last Sunday. They send you warm greetings. Some of their parish especially look forward to joining us in the upcoming Zoom panel discussion on God and Artificial Intelligence, beginning next Saturday.

On the airplane, as one turned on the media system, there was an advertisement that came on. It made me laugh out loud.  It begins, “We see you, airport dad, protector of passports, reserver of Uber rides, in advance. Last time you missed a flight? NEVER.” 

I laughed out of identification because I usually prepare by doing things.

As I reflected on the ad and how different Father Graham Buckle and I can be in some ways, it occurred to me that he also prepares, but he does it differently. He prepares by being ready for anything, being flexible, and being guided by a faith that no matter what, everything will turn out all right.

The Gospel today has something to say not wasting the waiting period, about being alert and prepared.

A wedding in ancient Palestine involved traveling around from house to house. And so the bridegroom and his party might visit a number of places before coming to the place where the bride and her bridesmaids are waiting. Then, as now, weddings parties were often delayed. And so, the bridesmaids who were waiting should have known that the bridegroom would be late. No promises were made. It was a part of their job to be prepared. But when the groom’s party appears, half of the bridesmaids are ready, and the other half is caught without enough oil to see.

Jesus tells this story to instruct his followers about the nature of waiting. Matthew tells this story to the Christians in his community in an effort to say to them, “Don’t just gaze off into heaven and wait for Jesus to come again. There’s work to be done. There’s love to be shared. There’s bread to be broken. The kingdom of God is like a wedding feast that welcomes all. It’s like a party, but if your waiting slows you down in the present, you just might miss all the fun.”

In our Gospel, the bridegroom eventually comes. Throughout scripture, the bridegroom is often a symbol for Jesus Christ. The Church itself is the bride, and so we wait. We wait for the full return of Jesus Christ, at the end of times, whatever that may look like. We wait for all of those smaller joys that we hope will come into our lives.

Every day has its share of waiting for small things—waiting for the coffee, waiting for traffic lights or the subway. We wait for appointments, for returned phone calls or emails. We wait for test results.

But we wait for the big things, too. We wait for graduation, for a visit by a family member.

We wait for a sickness to pass or a disease to end. We wait for the right person to come.

We wait for God.

Waiting can be an exercise if faith. Waiting can be faithful waiting when it is active, when it has meaning, when it is productive in some way. When it’s not only waiting FOR God, but perhaps, waiting also WITH God.

But waiting can also be empty and fruitless. Waiting is worthless when we use it as an excuse for doing nothing. You know what that kind of waiting sounds like:

I think of a couple I once knew who had some real issues in their relationship. But rather than deal with the issues that were current, they avoided them by focusing on a future goal and waiting: first, for a house, then for a baby, then more income–all the while, ignoring the problems right in front. They focused so much on that future goal that they were unprepared for the challenges that life would bring in the future

We all probably have a little procrastination in us, but we also probably know someone who has postponed over and over again, “I’ll get around to that when I’m retired.” New hobbies, books to be read, people to spend time with, places to visit— all are put off and postponed for what is planned to be the golden time of retirement. But the stock market intervenes, or there is sickness, or the person one planned to spend retirement with dies…. There are any number of unpredicted obstacles, but upon retirement, the person is unprepared.

In this Gospel, Jesus teaches that if we wait for the future and do nothing in the meantime, the future will be upon us, and we may be caught unprepared.

A part of our waiting and preparing in faith, I think, involves prayer, leaning on others, and acting with faith.

Prayer. The Gospel suggests we fill our lamps. We prepare ourselves by filling ourselves with pray and the study of the things of God—they sustain us like good oil in an old lamp.

Leaning on Others. We prepare ourselves by meeting the risen Christ when we serve the poor and when we serve by their side. We prepare ourselves by sacrificial giving—both with our time, our talents, and our money. We prepare ourselves with the simple stuff of bread and wine, bread and wine turned into Bread of Heaven and Cup of Salvation.

Acting with faith. Sometimes we leap in faith and sometimes we invest in faith. We prepare for the future feast of God by savoring each day as a gift, by taking each new day as an extraordinary morsel of food, letting it rest on the tongue, letting each day be tasted and smelled and touched and loved and shared and enjoyed.

This is not meant to be a stewardship sermon, as such, but there implications, as we both prepare for the future, but also prepare by living fully in the present. In the 4th century, Saint Basil preached powerfully about living faithfully in the Now. He asks

What keeps you from giving now? Isn’t the poor person there? Aren’t your own warehouses full? Isn’t the reward promised? The command is clear: the hungry person is dying now, the naked person is freezing now, the person in debt is beaten now-and you want to wait until tomorrow? “I’m not doing any harm,” you say. “I just want to keep what I own, that’s all.” You own! You are like someone who sits down in a theater and keeps everyone else away, saying that what is there for everyone’s use is your own. . . . If everyone took only what they needed and gave the rest to those in need, there would be no such thing as rich and poor.

Sermon on Luke

Sometimes we wait out of prudence, but may God help us to do whatever preparation is needed.  Sometimes we act, and may God bless us with the courage to know that we have been prepared for this moment.  In both cases and especially in the middle, may we be sustained by the words of the Psalmist: “Taste and see that the Lord is good, happy and blessed are those who put their trust in God.” (Psalm 34:8)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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