How to Wait Well: Preparing for Christ’s Return | Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids

 32 Sunday Ordinary Time, Year A

Waiting is something we often find frustrating, but Jesus teaches us that waiting can also be an opportunity for hope, joy, and transformation. Through the Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids (Matthew 25:1–13), we discover that waiting for Christ is not simply about passing time but about preparing ourselves to meet someone we love. By growing in prayer, kindness, and service to others, we can allow this time of waiting to make us more like Jesus.

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A couple of weeks ago, I was ordering something online. I'm sure we've all had this experience. You find what you want, add it to your cart, and you're just about ready to pay when you come to the shipping options. I noticed that one option would have my order arrive in a couple of weeks. I thought, that's not so bad. But then I looked further down. If I paid a little more, I could get it in just three days. And there was even an option for same-day delivery! Sometimes we hear about companies experimenting with drones that can deliver packages in just a few hours. It's clear that we don't particularly like waiting. We want things as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, we learn from today's Gospel that waiting is a central part of what it means to be a Christian. In the parable of the bridesmaids, Jesus teaches us not only about the importance of waiting, but also how to wait well.

As Christians, we live in a period of waiting. We live between the resurrection of Jesus and his return in glory, an event known as the Parousia, a Greek word associated with the arrival or presence of a king. Jesus has risen from the dead. Salvation has begun. The Kingdom of God is already present among us. Yet we continue to await Christ's return, when sin and death will be finally defeated and the resurrection of the dead will take place. We live, in other words, in a state of waiting.

In today's second reading, from St. Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians, we hear about some of the difficulties this waiting can cause. The Christians in Thessalonica are anxious. When will Christ return? What will happen to those who have already died? Will they miss out on Christ's coming? Paul encourages them to wait with hope, reminding them of the resurrection of Jesus and the promise that we will be with him forever.

But this raises an important question for us. How are we supposed to wait well? Does this period of waiting have a purpose? Why has God placed us in this situation of awaiting Christ's return? I think it can be helpful to distinguish between different kinds of waiting. Waiting can be a very different experience depending on what, or whom, we're waiting for. Consider two scenarios.

First, imagine you're standing at a bus stop, waiting for a bus that's late. You need to get to work or school, and as the minutes tick by, you realize you're getting closer and closer to being late yourself. How do you feel? What do you do? I know that I would probably become frustrated. I might pull out my phone, check the news, or send a message to explain that I'm going to be late. I might even become angry. This kind of waiting is unpleasant. It's something we simply want to get through. We're not particularly happy about the experience, and it doesn't necessarily change us for the better.

Now consider a second scenario. Imagine you're at an airport, waiting for a close friend or family member whom you haven't seen for five years. What is that experience like? It's very different, isn't it? You're waiting with hope and anticipation. You watch for the announcement that the plane has landed. You know the person is getting closer. You keep looking toward the doors, hoping to catch that first glimpse of someone you love. And as the moment approaches, your excitement grows. This kind of waiting is not simply something to endure. There's joy in the anticipation itself.

And notice something else. This kind of waiting can also change our behaviour. If we know that a loved one is coming to visit, we might clean the house, prepare a meal, or rearrange our schedule. We make changes because we're looking forward to being with that person. Waiting, in this case, actually moves us to action. It changes how we live.

Now, let's return to the Gospel. Which of these two scenarios best describes the bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom? Are they like people waiting impatiently for a late bus? Or are they more like someone eagerly awaiting the arrival of a loved one? Certainly, the setting of the parable points us toward the second scenario. The bridesmaids are waiting for the bridegroom to arrive so that they can celebrate a wedding. Their waiting is directed toward something joyful.

And this is how we, as Christians, are called to wait for Christ. We're not simply waiting for some event to happen. We're waiting to meet someone whom we love, someone who has already shown us how much he loves us. Whether we meet Christ at the end of our lives or at his return in glory, our waiting should be filled with hope and anticipation.

But today's Gospel teaches us something more. Waiting for Christ should not only fill us with hope. It should also transform the way we live. This brings us to the important image of the oil in the parable.

Notice that all ten bridesmaids have to wait. None of them can avoid it. The bridegroom is delayed, and eventually all of them fall asleep. The difference between the two groups is not that some have to wait while others don't. Nor is it that some grow tired while others remain awake. The difference is that some have prepared themselves for the bridegroom's arrival, while others have not. Five bridesmaids have brought enough oil for their lamps. The other five have not.

So what does this oil represent? What does it mean for us to have enough oil as we prepare to meet Christ? Throughout Christian history, different interpretations have been offered. The oil can represent our faith, our prayer, or our relationship with God. But I think there's another particularly helpful interpretation when we consider where this parable appears in Matthew's Gospel.

In this same chapter, Jesus tells another parable, the separation of the sheep and the goats. In that parable, Jesus explains that those who are welcomed into his Kingdom are those who have shown love and kindness toward people in need. They have fed the hungry, welcomed the stranger, cared for the sick, and visited those in prison. Jesus tells them that whatever they did for the least of his brothers and sisters, they did for him.

Seen in this context, the oil in the lamps can also be understood as representing our good works, especially our acts of love and service toward others. We prepare to meet Christ by learning to recognize and serve him in the people around us. Every time we show kindness to someone who is struggling, every time we reach out to someone who is lonely, every time we care for someone in need, we are preparing ourselves to meet Jesus.

This is how waiting can transform us. We don't simply sit around waiting for Christ to return. We use this time to become more like him. We grow in our love for God and in our love for our neighbour. And perhaps this is one of the reasons why this time of waiting is so important. It gives us an opportunity to grow, to change, and to prepare ourselves for the one we long to meet.

Waiting is something none of us can escape. We wait for all kinds of things in life, both big and small. And ultimately, each one of us is waiting for that moment when we will meet Jesus face to face. Today's Gospel reminds us that although we cannot always choose whether we wait, we can choose how we wait.

We can wait with frustration and impatience, as though we're standing at a bus stop wondering why the bus hasn't arrived. Or we can wait with hope, joy, and expectation, like someone at an airport eagerly awaiting the arrival of a loved one. And most importantly, we can allow this waiting to change us for the better.

As we await Christ's coming, let us prepare our lamps with the oil of prayer, kindness, and loving service. Let us use this time to grow closer to God and to become more like Jesus. Because the purpose of our waiting is not simply to pass the time until Christ comes. It is to become ready to meet the one who loves us.

Halloween, Saints, and Cemeteries: The Power of the Resurrection

 All Saints Day

What do Halloween costumes, statues of saints, and visiting a cemetery have in common? Each can remind us of the transforming power of Jesus' resurrection. As we celebrate Halloween, All Saints Day, and All Souls Day, we reflect on how Christ frees us from fear, calls us to holiness, and gives us hope in the face of death.

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What do the following three things have in common? Little children dressed up in spooky costumes for Halloween, the statues of saints we have in our church, and visiting a cemetery?

At first glance, these three things might seem to have nothing in common. But I want to suggest that they share something very important. Each provides us with an opportunity to reflect on the power of the resurrection of Jesus and how it transforms our lives.

Today, we have the wonderful opportunity to celebrate All Saints Day together on a Sunday, something that does not happen very often. All Saints Day is part of a progression of three important days in the Christian calendar. Yesterday was Halloween, today is All Saints Day, and tomorrow is All Souls Day.

Each of these days invites us to consider a different way in which the resurrection of Christ makes a difference in our lives.

Let's begin with Halloween and those spooky costumes.

When I was a child, I loved Halloween. It was one of my favourite days of the year. What's not to love? You get dressed up, walk around the neighbourhood, see your friends, and come home with bags full of candy. It's wonderful!

Even today, I think there's something beautiful about walking through a neighbourhood on Halloween and seeing people coming together. Certainly, Halloween can become overly commercialized, but it also has Christian roots.

The very word Halloween comes from All Hallows' Eve, the evening before All Saints Day. The word hallow refers to someone who is holy, a saint. Halloween, therefore, is connected with the celebration of All Saints.

I think even some of the spooky costumes and decorations can help us reflect on something important about our faith.

Throughout history, people have been frightened by many things. We fear evil, mysterious powers, and especially death. But think about what happens when we see a little child dressed up as a skeleton or a ghost. Something that might ordinarily frighten us becomes almost comical. A little child dressed as a skeleton is not particularly terrifying. In fact, it's rather cute!

In a way, these costumes take away the power of the things that frighten us.

And this points toward something profound about the cross and resurrection of Jesus.

St. Paul reminds us that through his death and resurrection, Christ has conquered the powers of sin and death. These powers no longer have the final word over our lives. Because of Christ, we do not need to live in fear.

Yesterday, as I was walking around the neighbourhood, I even saw someone dressed up as an AI robot, the kind that might someday take over the world! Perhaps that's one of our modern fears. And, of course, there are real concerns about artificial intelligence that we need to take seriously. But seeing someone dressed up in this way also reminds us that we need to keep our fears in perspective.

For Christians, our ultimate confidence is in Christ. Through his resurrection, he has overcome sin, death, and the powers of evil.

Halloween, then, can be an opportunity not simply to collect candy, but also to remember that the resurrection of Jesus frees us from living in fear.

Today, on All Saints Day, we celebrate another way in which the resurrection transforms our lives. Through the grace of the risen Christ, we are called to become more like Jesus. We are called to become saints.

In today's Gospel, we heard the Beatitudes. These teachings of Jesus show us how we are called to live as his followers. In fact, we might say that the Beatitudes are a kind of self-portrait of Jesus himself.

Jesus was a peacemaker. He showed mercy. He cared for those who were suffering and those who were most in need. He was willing to give his life out of love for others.

The Beatitudes describe the life of Jesus, and they show us the kind of people we are called to become.

This is why the saints are so important for us.

In our church, we have statues of various saints. We know their names and something about their lives. Each followed Jesus in a particular way. Their example encourages us and shows us what it means to live the Gospel in different circumstances.

But today we celebrate not only the saints whose names we know. We celebrate all the saints, including the countless holy men and women whose names have been forgotten by history but who are now with God.

Our first reading from the Book of Revelation presents a beautiful vision of the saints gathered before God.

We hear about the 144,000 who are marked with the seal of God. This is a symbolic number, formed from twelve times twelve times one thousand. The number twelve recalls the twelve tribes of Israel and the twelve apostles, while the multiplication expresses completeness and fullness.

Then John sees a great multitude that no one can count, drawn from every nation, tribe, people, and language.

What a beautiful vision! The saints are not simply a small group of extraordinary individuals. They are an immense multitude of people who have been transformed by the grace of God.

I once heard a beautiful analogy about the saints. Saints are like windows.

Think about the beautiful stained-glass windows we have in our church. Each is different, with its own colours and design. Yet what makes them beautiful is the light that shines through them.

The saints are like this. Each saint is unique, but through their lives, the light and grace of God shine into the world.

And this is what we are all called to become.

Through the resurrection of Jesus and the gift of the Holy Spirit, we receive the grace to be transformed, to live the Beatitudes, and to become more and more like Christ.

All Saints Day, therefore, reminds us that holiness is not simply something we admire in others. It is something to which each of us is called.

Finally, tomorrow we celebrate All Souls Day.

All Souls Day reminds us of a third way in which the resurrection of Jesus changes our lives. Because Christ has risen from the dead, we have hope in the face of death, both our own death and the death of those we love.

On All Souls Day, we pray in a special way for our deceased family members and friends. We entrust them to God's mercy, confident in the promise of Christ that death is not the end and that we are called to share in his resurrection.

We have many beautiful traditions in the Church that help us remember those who have died and express our continued communion with them.

Here at St. Peter's, for example, we have our Book of Remembrance. At the entrance of the church, there are papers where people can write the names of their deceased relatives and friends. We place these names in our large Book of Remembrance, and throughout November, we pray in a special way for all those who have died.

Another important tradition is visiting cemeteries, especially on All Souls Day.

Tomorrow, we will celebrate a special Mass at noon, followed by a blessing at St. Peter's Cemetery at 1 p.m.

Even the word cemetery tells us something beautiful about our Christian hope. It comes from a Greek word meaning a sleeping place or resting place.

Think about that for a moment.

We often say that someone who has died is resting in peace. This expression reflects something fundamental about our faith. As Christians, we believe that those who have died are not forgotten or lost forever. We await the day when Christ will come again and raise the dead to new life.

A cemetery, therefore, is not simply a place of death. It is also a place of hope.

Another beautiful tradition that we have embraced more recently here at St. Peter's is the altar of the dead, which you can see in our parish hall.

This tradition is particularly popular in Latin America, especially in Mexico. Families create beautiful altars in their homes and in public places, displaying photographs and mementos of loved ones who have died.

These altars remind us of the love we continue to have for those who have gone before us. They also remind us that, through Christ's resurrection, we have the hope of seeing them again.

So, let's return to our original question.

What do little children in spooky Halloween costumes, statues of saints in our church, and visiting a cemetery have in common?

All three can remind us of the transforming power of the resurrection of Jesus.

Halloween can remind us that because Christ has conquered sin and death, we do not need to live in fear of the powers of evil.

All Saints Day reminds us that the risen Christ gives us the grace to become more like him, to live the Beatitudes, and to become saints ourselves.

And All Souls Day reminds us that because Jesus has risen from the dead, we have hope beyond death, both for ourselves and for those we love.

As we celebrate these three days together, let us remember the incredible difference that the resurrection of Jesus makes in our lives.

Because Christ is risen, we need not live in fear. Because Christ is risen, we can become saints. And because Christ is risen, death does not have the final word.

Love God, Love Your Neighbour: The Greatest Commandment and the Fourth Wise Man

 30 Sunday OT, year A

When Jesus is asked to identify the greatest commandment, he responds by connecting our love for God with our love for our neighbour. Drawing on the ancient Jewish prayer known as the Shema and the moving story of Artaban, the fourth wise man, we discover that serving others is one of the most important ways we encounter and love God. Jesus also reminds us of the importance of loving ourselves, revealing that the Christian life ultimately rests on one simple but demanding principle: love.

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I think we're all familiar with the expression, "Less is more." It's an expression that reminds us that simplicity is often something beautiful. If we can communicate something more briefly, that's often a good thing. In today's Gospel, however, Jesus is asked a question, and his answer doesn't seem to follow this principle that less is more. In fact, Jesus needs to expand his answer. He's approached by a lawyer who asks him, "Which commandment in the law is the greatest?" Notice that the question is singular. He's asking Jesus to identify just one commandment. Jesus, however, responds by giving two commandments. And as we'll see, we might even say that hidden within his answer is a third commandment. All three are connected by one central theme: love.

Jesus begins his answer by reaching back to the Old Testament, to the book of Deuteronomy. He responds that the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This commandment comes from Deuteronomy chapter 6, from a passage that is often called the Shema. That name comes from the Hebrew word meaning "hear," the first word of this famous prayer: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one." This passage goes on to command the people of Israel to love God with all their heart, soul, and strength. Jesus is reaching back to something absolutely central to the faith of the Jewish people.

In our Christian tradition, we have the Lord's Prayer, which many of us pray every day, perhaps even several times a day. In the Jewish tradition, the Shema holds a similarly important place. It is a prayer that observant Jewish people recite every day, traditionally in the morning and in the evening. It reminds them of this central commandment to love God above all else. In fact, if you've ever visited a Jewish home, you might have noticed a small object attached to the doorpost. It's called a mezuzah. Inside this small case is a scroll containing passages from the Torah, including Deuteronomy chapter 6. Every time someone enters or leaves the home, it's a reminder of their relationship with God and the commandment to love him. Jewish people also use objects called tefillin, sometimes called phylacteries, during prayer. You may have seen photographs of Jewish people praying at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, with small black boxes attached to their arms and foreheads. Inside these boxes are also passages from Scripture, including this great commandment from Deuteronomy. We can see, then, how deeply this commandment is rooted in Jewish life and prayer. God is the one we are called to love. God is the one we are called to serve.

Now, whenever we read a biblical passage, knowing something about its historical background can often help us appreciate its meaning more deeply. And there's something particularly interesting about this commandment in Deuteronomy. Many biblical scholars believe that important parts of Deuteronomy took shape during the seventh century before Christ, when the kingdom of Judah was living under the shadow of the Assyrian Empire. At that time, Assyria was the dominant power in the ancient Near East. Judah was, for a period, what we call a vassal state of Assyria. That meant the people of Judah could carry on much of their ordinary life, but they were ultimately subject to the Assyrian emperor. They had to pay tribute, obey certain demands, and demonstrate their loyalty. And if they refused, the Assyrian army could come and destroy them.

What's particularly interesting is that archaeologists have discovered some of the treaties that the Assyrians made with their subject peoples. In these treaties, we sometimes find language remarkably similar to what we encounter in Deuteronomy. The people who were subject to the Assyrian emperor were commanded to show "love" to their ruler. Now, love in this context didn't mean affection or friendship. It meant loyalty, obedience, and service. To love the Assyrian emperor meant that you were expected to give him your allegiance and obey his commands. Some scholars suggest that Deuteronomy is deliberately responding to this kind of imperial language. It's as though the biblical writers are saying, "No. Our ultimate love and allegiance do not belong to some earthly emperor. The one we are called to love and serve with all that we have is the Lord our God." It's a powerful statement about where our ultimate loyalty belongs.

When Jesus reaches back to this commandment in Deuteronomy, then, he's reminding us that God must be at the centre of our lives. God is the one we are called to love above all else, with our entire being, our heart, our soul, our mind, and our will. But Jesus doesn't stop there. He goes on to identify a second commandment, this time reaching back to the book of Leviticus: "You shall love your neighbour as yourself." Jesus connects these two commandments because they cannot really be separated. If we truly love God, then that love needs to be expressed in the way we treat other people. Our love for God must lead us to love our neighbour.

There's a beautiful story that I think expresses this principle particularly well. Some of you may have heard of it. It's called The Story of the Other Wise Man, written by Henry Van Dyke in 1895. I actually first learned about this story a couple of years ago when I was visiting the Anglican cathedral for a meeting. I noticed some information on the wall about a summer camp called Camp Artaban. It's an Anglican camp located on Gambier Island. I remember looking at the name and wondering, "Who's Artaban?" So I asked the Anglican priest about it, and he explained that the camp was named after the main character in this beautiful story about a fourth wise man.

We're all familiar, of course, with the traditional story of the three wise men who journeyed to Bethlehem to visit the newborn Jesus. In Van Dyke's story, however, there is another wise man named Artaban. Like the other wise men, Artaban sets out on a long journey because he wants to encounter the newborn King. He brings with him three precious jewels, a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl, which he hopes to offer as gifts to Jesus. But something keeps happening to Artaban along the way. He keeps getting distracted. As he travels, he encounters people who are poor, sick, or in desperate need of help. And whenever he encounters these individuals, he stops to help them. Sometimes this means that he falls behind on his journey. Sometimes it means giving away one of the precious treasures that he had intended to offer to Jesus. He keeps trying to reach the King, but he keeps encountering people who need his assistance.

Eventually, Artaban arrives in Bethlehem, but it's too late. Jesus and his family have already departed. Artaban continues searching for Jesus, but the same thing keeps happening. Along the way, he finds people who are suffering, and he stops to help them. Years pass, and Artaban continues his search. In fact, thirty-three years go by. By now, Artaban is an old man. He has spent almost his entire life trying to find Jesus, but he has never managed to meet him. And he has only one precious gift remaining, the pearl that he had intended to give to the newborn King all those years before.

One day, Artaban finds himself in Jerusalem. It's the time of Jesus' Passion. Jesus has been arrested, condemned, and is being led away to be crucified. Artaban realizes that this may be his final opportunity to encounter the King he has spent his whole life searching for. He makes his way through the city, hoping that perhaps he might finally meet Jesus and offer him that last precious pearl. But once again, something happens. Artaban encounters a young woman in desperate need. She is being taken away to be sold into slavery because of her father's debts. She pleads with Artaban to help her. And Artaban faces a difficult decision. He can continue on his way, finally meet Jesus, and offer him his precious gift. Or he can stop and help this young woman. Once again, Artaban chooses to help. He gives away his last pearl to secure her freedom.

At that moment, Artaban feels that he has failed. He has spent thirty-three years trying to meet Jesus, and now he has given away his final gift. He believes that he has missed his opportunity. As Jesus dies upon the cross, an earthquake shakes Jerusalem. Artaban is struck by a falling stone and lies dying. But then something extraordinary happens. He hears the voice of the Lord, who helps him understand that his journey has not been wasted. Artaban realizes that throughout those thirty-three years, whenever he helped someone who was poor, suffering, or in need, he was actually serving Jesus himself. All those moments that he thought were distractions from his mission were, in fact, the moments when he was encountering the King he had been searching for.

It's a beautiful story, and of course, it's expressing something that Jesus teaches us explicitly in Matthew chapter 25. In that chapter, Jesus explains that whatever we do for those who are hungry, thirsty, sick, imprisoned, or in need, we do for him. This is the great discovery that Artaban makes at the end of his life. He thought that serving others was distracting him from his search for Jesus. But in reality, serving others was the very way that he was encountering Jesus. And this is precisely the connection that Jesus makes in today's Gospel. We are called to love God above all else. But one of the most important ways that we show our love for God is by loving and serving our neighbour, especially those who are most in need.

Now, there's something else hidden within Jesus' answer that I think is important for us to recognize. Jesus is asked for one commandment, and he gives two. But we might even say that there's a third commandment hidden within his response. Jesus says that we are to love our neighbour as ourselves. St. Thomas Aquinas reflects beautifully on the relationship between love of self and love of neighbour. We are called to see our neighbour as someone who shares in our own humanity, someone whose good matters to us as our own good matters to us. We are called to recognize other people as our brothers and sisters and to care for them as we would want to be cared for ourselves. But implicit in all of this is something that we can sometimes overlook: we are also called to love ourselves.

And I think this is something we shouldn't take for granted. Sometimes we can be overly hard on ourselves. We might be very aware of our mistakes, our weaknesses, and the things that we haven't done well. Of course, humility is an important Christian virtue, and humility calls us to recognize our limitations and failings. But humility doesn't mean thinking that we're worthless or that there is nothing good within us. Quite the opposite. Humility means seeing ourselves truthfully, and part of that truth is recognizing that God has created us good. God doesn't create junk. Every one of us has gifts, blessings, and goodness within us. Every one of us has been created in the image and likeness of God. And we're called to recognize and appreciate those gifts, not out of pride, but out of gratitude to the God who has given them to us.

This is important because if we are unable to recognize our own goodness and dignity, it can become difficult to recognize and appreciate the goodness and dignity of others. Loving ourselves in a healthy Christian way isn't selfishness. It's recognizing that we are loved by God, that our lives are gifts, and that we are called to care for those gifts. And from that foundation, we're better able to extend that same love and care to the people around us.

So Jesus begins with a question that seems quite simple. He's asked to identify the one greatest commandment. But instead of giving just one commandment, he offers two, and perhaps we can even see three within his answer. We are called to love God above all else. We are called to love our neighbour, because loving our neighbour is one of the most important ways we show our love for God. And we are also called to love ourselves, recognizing the goodness and dignity that God has placed within each of us.

In the end, I think the message is actually quite simple. The Christian life is ultimately about love. Of course, putting this into practice isn't always easy. Loving God with our entire being, loving those around us, especially those who are difficult to love, and learning to love ourselves in a healthy way can be challenging. But the central principle is simple. And I'd like to leave you with a beautiful saying from St. Augustine, one of the great teachers of our Christian tradition. Pope Leo XIV, of course, is an Augustinian, someone who follows the spiritual tradition of St. Augustine. And Augustine has a wonderful way of summarizing what Jesus is teaching us in today's Gospel.

St. Augustine puts it this way: "Love, and do what you will."

It's a very short statement, but there's tremendous wisdom within it. Augustine isn't saying that we can simply do whatever we want. He's saying that if genuine love is at the centre of our lives, then that love will guide everything else that we do. If our hearts are truly directed toward loving God and loving our neighbour, then our actions will increasingly reflect that love. This is what Jesus is calling us to in today's Gospel. To love God above all else, to recognize him in the people around us, and to allow that love to shape the way we live. Because ultimately, the Christian life is about love. Love, and do what you will.