Foiled Expectations

 

November 12, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Proverbs 9:1-6, 10-18; Matthew 25:1-11

“Jesus’ parables are like a wrapped gift – part of the joy is in carefully unwrapping it, and being surprised by the contents.” Those were the opening words of a children’s message given at the church I attended and served in Seminary, and they’ve stuck with me all these years later. There’s a number of things that stood out to me – first, the casual assumption that kids will carefully unwrap a gift. I definitely was one to tear the paper, throwing it aside, rather than carefully lifting the tape and folding up the paper to use again. Next, the idea that parables, these “short stories by Jesus” as AJ Levine puts it, that these needed unwrapping. How often have you heard someone say, “the plain text of the Bible says…” or something to that extent? If a parable needs to be unwrapped, then the “plain text” readers are looking at the paper, and ignoring what’s in the box. But, it’s also important to not only look at what’s in the box – the meaning – and ignore the wrapper entirely. You can’t summarize the parables easily, ignoring how they’re put together. The wrapping paper and box’s contents go together. Jesus’ parables are a master craft in setting up expectations, and then foiling them.

The parable of the Bridesmaids, for instance, begins in the middle of the story. Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven will be like ten young bridesmaids who took their lamps and went out to meet the groom.” Jesus is relying on folks knowing what a wedding ceremony was like. But our context for weddings is very different, and so it’s like we have an extra, unintentional wrapping. A gift bag, pretty in its own right, but it’s important to take the gift out of the bag.

For us, weddings are usually a ceremony in a church or other special place, followed by a reception nearby, and then the couple goes off on their own. We celebrate them, and they head off on their way to either a honeymoon, or at least a time of newlyweds, setting up their life together. But in Jesus’ day, the engaged couple would often live at the bride’s home, and the wedding would take place there, once the engagement was over. Then, the newlyweds would travel to the groom’s home, where his family and friends, and maybe even the entire village, would spend around a week with them, feasting and celebrating the wedding. It was a bit like the honeymoon came to the couple – and was combined with the reception!

The parable of the lamp-wielding women, then, starts in the middle of the story. The wedding has already happened, but the couple hasn’t yet arrived for the feasting. Jesus sets us amongst the expectant women – perhaps the family members, perhaps the friends – and involves us in their preparations to welcome the couple. Five of the women are wise, and five are foolish – and the only difference is the amount of oil they bring with them.

Now, let’s unwrap a corner of the parable – you’re probably expecting this to be about preparation. “Surely, Pastor Lucus, the foolish ones are foolish because they didn’t recognize that they didn’t have enough oil.” Certainly, that’s one way of reading the parable. Except – no one knew how long the journey would be for the couple to arrive. The way of the procession to the groom’s home was usually not by the most direct route. Even if they both lived in the same village, they would wind out of the cluster of homes, through the fields, over mountains, and then return. The journey was a road trip – an intensive way to get to know your new spouse in relative solitude. Plus, couples could get “distracted” on their journey, as newlyweds are wont to do.

That’s all to say – there was no way to know how much oil was needed. The expectation would be, perhaps, that you would take turns with the watch – saving the oil to light all the lamps when the couple arrived. But, our expectation of this is foiled, when in Jesus’ story, all ten light their lamps and fall asleep with their lamps burning. The wise and the foolish together – so that it is only when the groom calls out that the lamps are trimmed, oil re-added, and light shines forth again. At that point, however, the foolish ones have run out of oil – and so are told to go buy more from the marketplace.

This is another foiled expectation – that the wise ones, who have extra oil, do not share with the foolish ones. “But kindness! But generosity!” The only response to this is, “But relationship!” Let me explain. The foolish ones don’t have oil to keep their lamps burning. This doesn’t make them bad people, or even unworthy of being part of the party. Yet, they feel bad – and don’t want to be seen as foolish by the wedding party. Instead of greeting the couple, they run off to the market – and miss the arrival that they had been so excited for!

Now, the parable that Jesus tells has another reference in the wrapper that we should take a look at. By calling five of the women wise, and five of them foolish, Jesus is calling back to the tradition of the book of Proverbs, where Wisdom and Foolishness are personified as women. A brief note before diving in here: the first nine chapters of Proverbs are written as a letter from a father to a son, sometime around 1000 BCE. That means that, well, its discussions of a woman as “something to get” are fairly gross by our standards today, filled with a not-so-subtle “male gaze”. As it’s put in Proverbs 31, “Who can find a woman of valor? She is worth far more than rubies.” All that said, I still love these passages for all that they lift up about wisdom – and I love that, even in the patriarchal worldview, the ideal of wisdom was personified as a woman.

 So, in Proverbs 9, we encounter a direct comparison between Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly, a sort of Goofus-and-Gallant story. Lady Wisdom calls to you to feast at a big banquet, and she has prepared all the food, and even gone so far as to build the very house where the banquet will be celebrated! The food’s all ready, the doors are wide open, and even the wine has been pre-mixed with water, so that everyone who attends can feel warm inside without losing their head to drunkenness.

Meanwhile, Dame Folly looks to trap passersby into providing her the feast – she hasn’t prepared anything, but intends to get the attendees at her feast to steal the food and drink. The warning is that, on the surface, they look a lot alike – both Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly invite you in with the simple phrase, “Come in with me!” We likely expect Lady Wisdom to be like Glinda the Good, all shiny and bubbly, and Dame Folly to be Elphaba the Wicked, cackling in the corner with her green skin – but no – it’s not until you see how they act in private that the differences are evident.  

Too often, I think, we end up continuing along the path that either Wisdom or Folly have set before us without thinking. Is all that matters which you first heard call out to you? No – we are called to use judgment about the character of those calling us in, and leading us. It’s right to change course when you realize you’ve been duped by someone who sounded ok at first, but then is encouraging you to steal and cheat for their favor. Wisdom encourages those who attend her banquet to “begin to live and learn to use good judgment.” In contrast, Folly’s guests “are in the depths of the grave.”

So, let’s get back to the wrapped parable of the light bringers. As it stands, the light from the five torches is sufficient to greet the couple – there was clearly no need for five more! But if the wise ones had divided what they had equally, there wouldn’t have been enough light. I’m more and more drawn to the idea that the wise and foolish aren’t all that far apart here. Yes, the foolish ones might have noticed the extra oil – but they would have had enough if only they hadn’t left all ten lamps burning while going to sleep. Then, if they hadn’t run off, but had stayed, they could have been part of the reception – which is what the couple really wanted! In trying to cover up a mistake, they end up making an even bigger one.

Here, then, is the gift under all the wrapping – we all make mistakes. But what matters most is remaining connected to each other and to God, rather than trying to hide those mistakes. You see, throughout this parable, your expectation was for the oil to be the most important part – but your expectation for oil was foiled! Ultimately, whether you have a lot or a little, God is hoping to see you – to see you at the gate, to see you at the feast, to see you in the light your lamp burns, or that of your neighbor, if your lamp has run out.

The parable reminds us that life is a series of foiled expectations, where what we thought was most important may not be, and where our perceived mistakes can lead to unexpected revelations. As we journey together on the Way of Christ, let us embrace the imperfections of our own oil lamps – acknowledging that mistakes are not roadblocks, but opportunities to learn and grow in love for God and each other. May we always prioritize connection over perfection, finding our individual lights, whether flickering or blazing, are all welcome at the feast.

May God’s grace fill your lamp with the oil of faith. May the love of Jesus Christ prepare you for a more-than-life-long commitment to the Source of Love. And may the light of the Holy Spirit shine from you, guiding others to the joyous celebration of knowing God. Amen.