November 8 Meditation

Matthew 25: 1-13

There is talk of a meeting, of a Bridegroom, of a wedding; of young girls, of lamps and oil.
And what this parable tells us is that we do not meet the Bridegroom with, in his lamp, oil bought from the merchants. Idea that seemed to appear already, in the last verses of the Song of Songs: "Whoever would offer all the riches of his house to buy love, would only collect contempt." (Ct 8.7)

The meeting is made precisely from the unquantifiable, the unknowable... It is for these ten young girls to go out, with "the lamps of themselves", according to the Greek text. Mysterious path of the soul in search of its God, admirably described in the poems of Saint John of the Cross:

“In the middle of a dark night… I went out…
without any other guide or light, than the one that burned within my heart… ”

But here the Bridegroom is waiting... this exit is a non-knowledge:

“For all the beauty in the world, I wouldn't want to get lost,
but for a I don't know what, which happens by adventure… ”

A "I don't know what", therefore, burns in the hearts of these young girls; but also, to use the expression of V. Jankélévitch, an "almost nothing". For not all will follow the Bridegroom into the wedding hall. "One is taken, the other left," as Saint Matthew announces in the chapter preceding our parable. The encounter is played out on nothing – almost nothing: a modest bottle makes all the difference. "It will never be enough for us and for you," say the far-sighted to the carefree, proof that these vials of oil contained very little... This "very little" oil, tiny and derisory, which nevertheless allows the irruption of Life, evokes another: that of the widow of Zarephath (1 Kings 17:12). Place of "almost nothing", place of the meeting. And the miracle.

These "almost nothing" run in the gospels as in each of our lives. It is the widow with two pieces, the young boy with five barley loaves... It is, for Saint Teresa of Avila, this "very little that [is] within my reach" (Way of Perfection, I); and for Little Teresa, "the pin" picked up for love... Ability to be in Presence, to respond, here and now, to the voice that illuminates the night… The bottle of oil can thus represent what in us is always ready to be poured out, poured out, offered. Perhaps what the "far-sighted" take with them is this: an ability to receive, and to give. A container, a "receptacle"... An open space, which allowed itself to be filled with this additional oil, this "almost nothing" essential, to remain until the Hour of the Bridegroom... As such, the miracle described in the cycle of Elisha (2 Kings 4: 6) also sounds like a parable: there is again, as in the time of Elijah, a widow, a "bottle of oil". But this time, it is no longer the oil that is lacking, but the vessels available to collect it... "God never tires of giving", said Saint Therese again (Life, XIX), "let us not tire of receiving"... Lord, give us an attentive, receptive heart, like that of the Virgin Mary. A heart ready to welcome the Will of the Father, offered to the living flame of your Spirit. A heart that breathes your name, Jesus, as a "fragrance of sweet odour" (Eph 5: 2), as a "balm of life" (Sirach 6:16). “Your name is an oil that pours out… Take me in your footsteps, let's run! (Ct 1: 3-4)

Train me in your footsteps, let's run! (Ct 1: 3-4)

A Carmelite sister
(Carmel Notre-Dame de Surieu)