There is a phrase that Christians use all the time that I never really stopped to think deeply about. The Church is called the Bride of Christ. I've heard it for years. We hear it in Scripture. We hear it in homilies. We hear it in prayers. Yet if I'm being honest, for most of my life it remained little more than a religious expression. Then one day (just two days ago) I found myself thinking about what that image actually means.
Why does Scripture describe Christ as a bridegroom? Perhaps because there is no clearer way to describe how deeply Christ loves His Church. Not as an organization, not as a building, not as an institution, but as something He loves so completely that He was willing to die for her. That thought changed the way I looked at this weekend's Gospel.
The wise virgins were waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom. They made sure their lamps were filled with oil before darkness came. And I found myself wondering: what am I doing for Christ's Bride while I wait for the Bridegroom? I sometimes think we can fall into the habit of viewing the Church as something that exists to serve us, rather than something that all of us are helping to care for together. And perhaps that is where the image of the oil struck me. The oil is gathered before it is needed. You do not wait until darkness falls. You prepare beforehand.
The truth is that life is busy, at least mine is. There is always another commitment, another errand, another email, another reason why I am too tired. There are weekends when staying home sounds easier, evenings when prayer gets pushed aside. There are times when supporting the Church generously competes with things I would simply rather spend money on. An eight-dollar coffee doesn't seem like much until I start comparing it to the sacrifices I sometimes hesitate to make for the things I claim are most important. None of those choices seem significant in the moment. But perhaps that is exactly the point.
Maybe the wise virgins did not fill their lamps all at once, maybe they filled them little by little. Maybe that should be true also in our lives, and how we look after the bride? Every prayer, every act of generosity, every hour volunteered, every moment spent helping a stranger become a parishioner, and a parishioner become a friend, Every effort to help strengthen our parish, and every small sacrifice made out of love for Christ and His Church. Each of these, drop by drop, provides oil for the lamp.
I suppose that is what stays with me when I read this Gospel. Not fear of the darkness. Not trying to predict when the Bridegroom will come. But the realization that Christ loves His Bride far more than I do. And if I truly love Christ, then I should care about the things He cares about. So the question I have been asking myself this week is a simple one: When Christ looks at His Bride, does He see me helping care for her, or simply standing back and expecting others to do it? Perhaps the answer to that question says a great deal about how much oil is actually in my lamp.
~John Gendreau, Business Administrator