Sunday, November 8, 2026

 

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

(Wisdom 6:12-16; I Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13)

A wise man wrote not too long ago: “Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?"  The words describe our time as much as any.  Internet has made available a colossal amount of information to most people in our society.  Much of the information that it provides, however, is trivial and meaningless.  More disturbing is the lack of wisdom today.  Science has shown, for example, that artificial contraceptives jeopardize women’s health.  Yet many women still use the pill.

The first reading and the gospel today focus on wisdom. The passage from the Book of Wisdom sings praise to wisdom as the secret of a worthy life.  It describes wisdom as a woman much like a proficient schoolteacher.  She assists those who want to learn as she guides their character development.

In the gospel Jesus contrasts five wise virgins with five foolish ones.  All ten await the bridegroom’s return with great anticipation.  They represent the Church waiting for the return of Christ at the end of time.  The five wise young women realize that God’s time is not our time.  What we desire immediately, God brings about slowly so that we might be fully prepared to receive it.  We can think of the millennia of waiting from the human awareness of sin until the coming of the Savior. 

Now we must wait patiently for the return of Christ.  He will bring the fullness of glory. The wise virgins of the parable have an inkling of this, not instinctively but by instruction and experience.  They make provision for a long wait by taking along flasks of oil so that their lamps will be burning when the bridegroom finally comes.  Then they will be seen and included in the wedding feast of Christ and the Church.

The foolish virgins, on the other hand, are overwhelmed by desire.  Rather than prepare themselves for a long wait by bringing extra oil, they only think of the pleasure of the feast.  However, their oil will run out and their lamps become dim before this happens.  Not noticed when the bridegroom arrives, they will be excluded from the celebration.

The oil that keeps the lamps lit is much more precious than petroleum.  Thick and oozy, the oil represents a close relationship with the Lord.  Oil protects the skin from wicked sunlight as a relationship with Jesus will keep us from giving in to temptation.  More than that, oil burns giving off light.  In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus told his disciples, “’… your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.’” A close relationship with Jesus moves us to do good for others who, in turn, give thanks where it is most due.

Sometimes we hear people ridicule good deeds.  In one story, a woman criticizes another for raising money to help poor children.  She says that such charity only produces self-righteousness in the rich as it takes away self-determination in the poor.  Is that it?  The other woman – the “do-gooder” – responds to the criticism.  She says that it is natural to turn away from the poor, but it is also a refusal to recognize their humanity.  It is a way of excluding them from the human family. Any help that can be provided, on the other hand, recognizes that the poor are human beings like us.  They too have God as their Father.

The “poor,” of course, are not only those without money.  They are anyone who suffers.  Visiting the sick, telephoning the lonely, and helping deprived children learn to read are just a few of the thousands of ways we might keep our oil burning bright.  Some may see us doing it.  Let them give thanks to God.  More importantly, Christ will see our good deeds.  He will open the door for us to the wedding feast.