Homily from the Parish Priest for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings for Year A: Wisdom 6:12-16; I Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13

Waiting.  Much of what life is for so many at the moment.  Frustrating, agonising, and fearful waiting.  Not knowing when we will be released from this invisible enemy which is messing up our lives.  And of course this week there’s been much agonising vigil too for one of the most important elections in the US to come to its final conclusion.  Waiting is key to this Gospel story too.  Waiting for the bridegroom for so long in the dark and the cold they fall asleep and their lamps burn out.  And then suddenly at the dead of night he arrives for the feast - too late for the bridesmaids whose lamps have now run out of oil. And yet the host has the gall to admit only those whose lamps are still burning and turn the tables on those who now are not ready to come in. These "foolish" bridesmaids underprepared for the sudden midnight entrance of their host are summarily dismissed: "I do not know you" says Jesus. And the door to the feast closed behind them.  And you can almost hear the cold slam of the door in the midnight air and the click of the bolts as they're put into place.  Not very nice at all after all the terrible trials they have been through.     

 So what on earth is this theatre of the absurd all about?  It's really all about time and the attitude of the host - our perception and that of Jesus.  And the two are so different.  We're being invited here to reflect on our readiness for Jesus, our readiness to respond to the call when we are invited to enter that brave new world which will surely dawn.  When this dark night of fear and anxiety will make way for something altogether new, in a new era when we will be called forward to rebuild and shape our future hope.  It will be around a corner when it seems least predictable and least convenient.  And surely we will realise it’s over and we will need to move on in hope.   

 And how we wait now will affect how we build later.  In our locked down families and bubbles, in our community’s work for the most vulnerable, in how we build bridges as the Church with the good and the not so good at this time of trial in working together for that future of hope, of justice, peace and truth so badly needed in our communities, in our country and in our global village we inhabit together, wired together through our multicultural society, our media and virtual web of interconnections, which we inhabit and are called to preserve, protect, embrace for future generations.   

 And so now we're being asked to reflect on the time we set for meeting the bridegroom, for having our time with Jesus. Yes, the Sunday eucharist online or our own rhythm of self-created prayer at home.  To keep that rhythm of prayer is so important to us in these dark days of lockdown.  But also on a broader canvas how we are ready to do God’s will in our lives, to respond generously when we are needed by others, our readiness to take a stand for the good when we are called to, and our preparedness also, in the context of this Gospel reading, for the next life – how much through this dark night we do not know the day or the hour we will be called to that new horizon which awaits us all.   

   Is the way we organise our time on our own terms or do we allow him to help us, to be on the lookout for him and to meet him in our world, even at this time?  Walking around the streets of London in these last weeks the face of Jesus has hit me in the face.  In raw human need, desperate suffering, and yet more generosity and sacrifice than I have encountered for so long in our country.  Hoteliers and restaurateurs in empty premises facing the facts of the accounting book which signal the end of a livelihood and yet still the human spirit there soaring as they respond to feed the homeless lying on the street just yards away.  The homeless coming to our service speaking peace, serenity, intelligent conversation, resignation, resilience and deep gratitude.  Our army of volunteers responding in generosity, sacrifice, showing Christ, showing the human face of the Catholic Church so clearly.  A senior politician I spoke to this week who vowed to do all they could to help those who are victims of this crisis we are in as it is clearly a simple matter of life and death.  

  Here in the midst of it all is where we find the Jesus we're not expecting quite at that time and in that place but who stands at the door waiting with us beckoning us on through these glimpses of his incarnate and risen body, looking  for a bright-burning and still well-oiled lamp.    

 To always give the greater glory to God - 'ad majorem Dei gloriam' - means we need to look for those glimpses of glory revealed in our world here and now under our noses in the facts of the present time, however tough it is.  The message is clear and maybe not what we always want to hear. The bridegroom will not always be on time. He will not  always appear as we expect and would like.  He will not be confined to our way of doing things. And He will offer no apology for closing the door if we are not prepared to go out and meet him on his terms.  

 This weekend in our country we are remembering the vast numbers who were prepared to give themselves generously for our freedom as we recall the sacrifice of those who fell in war and armed conflict.  Of course it’s also a time to pray for peace, to pray that the horror of war is avoided by good diplomacy, work for reconciliation, building bridges rather than walls between peoples.  But as part of that we give thanks to God for the sacrifice of so many who gave up their lives in total sacrifice.   

 Indeed sometimes the Lord asks much of us.  Not because he is a taskmaster but because the bridegroom desires his bride so much, the bride that's us, the Church, and he desires us always to be ready to respond.  He needs us to oil our lamps regularly by taking time to pray as families and households, if it helps joining in this greatest of prayers in the eucharist which at this time perhaps represents so much our longing for him as we are unable to gather together as we should in person to receive him together.   

 Thank you so much for joining us today, wherever you are in our city, our country and our global village.  I hope that this Remembrance Sunday Mass, when we remember all who have died on whatever side, who gave their lives for a future of peace in our world, will give you new hope for a more peaceful and just world.  May our celebration today also inspire us to show those glimpses of Christ to our world, Christ who through his suffering yet his sacrificial love shows us where our true hope lies.  And may we be inspired to be generous not just with our time but with our whole lives, so we may respond to that call to rebuild a future of peace and of truth.

Fr Dominic Robinson SJ