Sunday after the election of Barack Obama as President. A sermon by Susan P. Thomas
Thursday, November 13th, 2008 at 6:41 am
Sunday after the election of Barack Obama as President
November 9, 2008, Pent 26A — OSLC — Susan P. Thomas
Matthew 25:1-13
I love this parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids. Perhaps it’s because it’s about women. Or perhaps it’s because I can identify with both the foolish ones and the wise ones — I know that sometimes I prepare appropriately for what lies ahead and that other times I’m caught woefully short.
It’s not a comforting parable. I’ve never liked that the wise bridesmaids refuse to share their supply of oil with the foolish ones. I’ve never liked the ending, where the foolish ones return from buying more oil and find that the door is shut (I feel that part like a blow to my stomach), but as far as storytelling goes, it’s the right ending. The one task these bridesmaids had was to greet the bridegroom and they missed that moment entirely. They judged something else to be more important.
I think this parable is, at least in part, about just that — about judging what’s most important in the context you are in. The foolish ones judged the accoutrements of their role (that is, lamps burning brightly rather than sputtering or going out) as more important than simply being there to greet the bridegroom. They were willing to risk missing his arrival in order to look good when he came.
It’s also a parable about waiting — a LONG time, much longer than you expected. And about what you do in the meantime.
On Tuesday, when we elected an African American man as President of the United States, our nation passed a barrier that had held for a LONG time. Yet most of us, whatever our race, had never actually expected it to happen in our lifetime. Well, maybe I can’t speak for the children, or even for those under 30, but certainly few of us older than that thought we would see this day in our lifetime.
I keep remembering a “Doonesbury” cartoon that came out in the midst of the Primaries when one character says to the other, “You know, you have to admit that Obama has a lot of advantages in this election.” The other responds, “You mean like being black and having an Arabic name?” “Yeah,” says the first. “Who knew America was ready?”
Who knew America was ready? The fact that we were, is cause for rejoicing on the part of all of us, whether or not we supported Obama’s candidacy. This has been a stony road for our entire nation. We’ve all suffered from the effects of racism, both recognized and hidden. A primary insight of the “Healing the Wounds of Racism” program that the New England Synod has been offering for several years is understanding how much white people, who make up the vast majority of the Lutheran Church in the U.S., operate from a stance of “white privilege.” Recognizing when white privilege is at work is essential to our healing.
It’s a case of understanding where the problem actually lies. I received a letter from my father in late October in which he voiced his fears that if Obama was elected some crazy person might assassinate him and this nation couldn’t survive something like that. Now this may be a legitimate fear, but the implication was that therefore a black man shouldn’t be running. It would be his fault if this happened to America. Like the race riots of the civil rights era were the fault of those trying to gain their rights.
But America was, to our astonishment, ready. America was ready to run a presidential campaign that, by and large, took race and gender in stride. America was ready to look at a black man and say “We trust you with the future of our nation.” That is a remarkable thing, given our history of slavery, segregation, and mistrust, not to mention how remarkable it is that an African American man would also trust this nation to deliver on its promises. That this could happen, after such a long wait, gives us all hope. We really do have cause for rejoicing! We’ve crossed a formidable hurdle together!
So what’s our job now? I think we might look again at these wise and foolish bridesmaids for some hints.
First of all, trust that fulfillment will come. The prophet Amos in our first lesson spoke of God’s intention to “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” The bridegroom in Matthew’s parable was delayed, but he came. In the face of much evidence to the contrary, Martin Luther King, Jr. proclaimed, “The arc of history bends toward justice.” The arc of history bends toward justice. We are called to trust that the fulfillment of the promises of God will come.
Second, we are to keep ourselves fueled for the long haul. This parable presents a picture of responsible discipleship. Fueled with deeds of love and mercy, with the oil of healing and gladness, we can wait it out. Keep your lamps trimmed and burning; don’t grow weary in doing what is right. Keep yourself fueled for what may be a long wait.
Third, judge well what is most important in the context you are in. Be alert to what God may be calling you to now, at this point in your life, at this point in history. It’s very significant that this parable is not just about individuals, but is about a group. The picture Matthew is giving to us is really of the church, and it’s calling to faithful and wise discipleship in its time–it’s calling to judge when it needs to be where God expects it to be. Our Lord intends to meet us there on that arc bending toward justice, not in some shop trying to make ourselves presentable. So as individuals and as the church we must judge wisely where God wants us to be, in our present context, while we yet wait for the final fulfillment of God’s promises.
So trust in the fulfillment that will come. Keep your lamps trimmed and burning for the long haul. And judge well where God is calling you to be now.
And, as the apostle Paul wrote to the Galatians (6:9-10), “Do not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith.”
Amen. May it be so for us.
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