Are your questions wise or foolish?
Our Gospel today (Matthew 25:1-13) ends with the five foolish virgins being locked out of the wedding banquet because they brought no extra oil for their lamps. They cry out, “Lord, Lord, open the door for us!” But their pleas are rejected: “Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.”
This heartbreaking response sounds very different from the invitations of the landowner in Matthew 20 who kept on hiring workers to labor in his vineyard at dawn, at noon, and even at the eleventh hour. What happened to the God we heard about in Luke 15 who not only welcomed the prodigal son back with a feast but also eagerly waited for his return every day he was gone?
“Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.” This is something you would expect from the king in Matthew 22 who had the guest without a wedding garment cast into the darkness outside where there was only “wailing and grinding of teeth.”
Who among these would you choose—the generous landowner, the forgiving father, the demanding king, or the unyielding bridegroom? Which of these is the true face of God? How can we make sense of these different images from the Bible?
Our faith in God is multi-faceted. No one parable can cover all its aspects. You cannot make a story address something it wasn’t designed to tackle. As an extreme example, you cannot ask our Gospel today about nuclear disarmament, the ecological crisis, or how to dismantle political dynasties. If you want to reflect on forgiveness and second chances, then turn to the parables of the prodigal son and the wedding feast. Our story this Sunday highlights something else. What is its message? The last line makes it clear: “Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”
While we have to be careful about what to ask a parable, this doesn’t mean we cannot hazard questions beyond the obvious or traditional interpretations. The Word of God is infinitely deep, and it can be stretched and squeezed, wrestled with and wrung, to speak to what disturbs our hearts. Pwedeng pigain ang Salita ng Diyos. How do we know if our questions are worth asking? “By their fruits, you will know them.” May katas bang nakukuha na nakapapawi ng uhaw?
There are some questions we need to ask to clarify possible misconceptions. A lady I study Scripture with wondered what the bridegroom in the Gospel today was going to do with ten virgins. Well, the virgins are the bridesmaids—not the bride.
There are some questions that can lead us to wrong conclusions. If we ask why there are five wise virgins and five foolish ones and then connect this to the Ten Commandments (because 5+5=10), we are going down a wrong path. Why? This would mean that five of the Commandments are wise, and five are foolish. I think that “Five of them were foolish and five were wise” is just a literary way of saying there are those of us who are wise and those of us who are foolish.
Let’s strengthen our Bible reading muscles with some exercises…
Is this a good series of questions? Why did the wise virgins not share their oil with the foolish ones? After all, isn’t sharing what you have wise? But what if what this parable wants to say is that there are just some things you cannot share? For example, while I can share with you the insights I got from praying, while I can let you read my prayer journal, I cannot share with you the growth in intimacy with God which prayer brought me. For you to become closer to God, you have to pray yourself. As another example, while I can share with you my reflections when I did acts of charity, while I can tell you what I felt as I visited the sick or comforted the mourning, I cannot share with you the increase in understanding and patience which those experiences gave me. You have to do those works of mercy yourself. Personal transformation is non-transferable.
Is “Why did the wise virgins not share their oil with the foolish ones?” a good question? It depends on what it teaches you.
Let’s try another series of questions. Why did even the wise virgins become drowsy and fall asleep? The text gives us one answer: “The bridegroom was long delayed.” But what if the parable is also warning us not to become complacent and too confident with regard to our faith? After all, even the wise can drift and doze off. The wisdom you currently have is never enough. You must keep on gaining wisdom.
But how do you continue growing in wisdom? Some possible answers from our musings today: By praying. By doing acts of charity. By daring to ask questions—even though some may end up being foolish.
Your prayer assignment this week:
After hearing about virgins, the obvious choice for the song to accompany our reflection is… “Like a Virgin” by Madonna! I hope you are not shocked by this suggestion. If you dive deeper into its lyrics, I hope you can see that “Like a Virgin”—if you stretch and squeeze it, if you wrestle with it and wring it—can describe a profound journey of faith:
I made it through the wilderness
Somehow I made it through
Didn't know how lost I was
Until I found you.
I was beat, incomplete
I've been had, I was sad and blue
But you made me feel
Yeah, you made me feel
Shiny and new.
Maybe even the wise virgins became drowsy because they did not know the bridegroom the way the persona in the song did. Maybe they fell asleep because they only had a vague idea but no real experience of the bridegroom’s love. They could not sing with Madonna:
Your love thawed out
What was scared and cold.
Here is a version of the song I was able to pray with:
I hope you are not scandalized when you see and hear a religious sister singing “Like a Virgin.” And I hope you are not disedified when you find out that Sister Cristina (who, after winning Italy’s version of The Voice, recorded that music video) eventually left the Ursuline order. I’d like to think that Sister Cristina’s decision was a fruit of her continuing to ask questions and staying awake.
How are you as you wait for the Bridegroom? Is your lamp ready? Is your flask full? How can you add to your supply of oil? What questions are you asking? Are they helping you stay awake? Are you growing in your desire to be touched by God?
Fr. Francis teaches Theology, Education and Scripture at both the Ateneo de Manila University and Loyola School of Theology. As a classroom teacher, he is first and foremost a student. As a professor, he sees himself primarily as a pastor.
