Give Me Oil for my Lamp

The parable of the ten bridesmaids (this Sunday's Gospel) has always left me with questions. Five are called wise because they brought extra oil for their lamps, while the other five are left scrambling when the bridegroom finally arrives. But their refusal to share seems a little out of step with the Jesus who tells us to love our neighbors as ourselves. After all, isn't generosity at the heart of the Gospel?

Perhaps the key to this parable isn't the oil itself, but what it represents.

I remember a seminary class called “The Spirituality of Healing” in which my professor used an oil lamp to illustrate the spiritual life. She lit the lamp, and it burned brightly for a few minutes before going out: there wasn't enough oil. She asked us, “What will you do to replenish your supply of oil so that the light of God will continue to shine through you?”

We all know what it feels like to run low on spiritual oil. We're parents, partners, friends, caregivers, and neighbors; we spend our days tending to the needs of others, and sometimes we run out of patience, energy, and compassion. When that happens, we aren't always our best selves. A minor disagreement becomes a major argument, an innocent comment pushes us over the edge, and the people we love often get the worst of us.

Perhaps the wise bridesmaids understood something important: we have to take responsibility for replenishing our own spiritual reserves. We can't borrow someone else's faith, peace of mind, or relationship with God. We have to discover what nourishes our own souls. Maybe it's returning to something creative you've neglected, or finally volunteering at the food pantry instead of just wishing you had more time, or making space for prayer, studying Scripture, or simply sitting quietly and listening for God's voice. It's not selfish to focus on taking care of yourself so that you can take care of others - this is what it means to love your neighbor as you love yourself.

The truth is, we need that spiritual oil every day. Not because we're expected to be endlessly cheerful or endlessly giving, but because the world is full of people who are hurting, lonely, overwhelmed, and in need of compassion - this is what it means to love your neighbor as you love yourself.

So here's a question to carry with you: What fills your spiritual oil flask? What reconnects you with God and makes your soul come alive? Make room for those things. Tend to them. Let them replenish you.

Because when someone comes along needing a little light, you'll have something to share: the light of God's love shining through you.

Blessings,

Rev Jill