Remembrance Sunday 2023

 

Lectionary readings: 1 Thessalonians 4.13-18 and Matthew 25.1-13

We think of this life as light, and death as darkness, the extinguishing of light. But in fact, it is the other way round. This life is dark – just think about the rollcall of conflict in the world. When Jesus returns, we will be brought into the banqueting room, into light and warmth and joy.

When I say this life is dark, I’m not advocating a counsel of despair. Darkness is one way of describing evil and the pain it causes – if your home has been destroyed by rockets, you are living through dark days. But the dark can also be magical. That’s when the stars are visible, and – if you are lucky – you might even catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights. And dark can describe mystery, the way in which even those closest and dearest to us can be a mystery to us at times, without in any way diminishing love.

And when I proclaim the Christian hope that death is the door into light and life, I am not advocating that we give up on the gift of this dark world. Death remains a tragedy for those who are left behind. I am simply saying that death is not something we should fear or see as bringing life – true life – to an end. I am saying that however good the present can be, something greater waits for us. Think of it like this: people sometimes say, ‘Your school days are the best days of your life.’ I really hope not. I hope that your school days are happy; but I’d hate for the rest of your life to be an anticlimax. Think of this world as our collective school days, and the world to come as the rest of our lives.

How, then, should we wait in the darkness of the world? In the parable Jesus told, that we heard again today, some of the bridesmaids came prepared, and some did not. It is as if they knew the Scouting motto, Be Prepared. They had thought about their kit and made certain it was in working order. They brought lamps, and they brought flasks of oil.

Baptism is the occasion on which we become a member of the Church. At every baptism, we give the person who has just joined the Church a candle, lit from the Paschal Candle, the large candle that reminds us that Jesus is the Light of the world. Our candle is a reminder that we are called to be a light in the world. Candles only really make a difference the darker it gets. As we wait for Jesus, think how your life can make a difference, lighting the way for others, or easing their stress, or helping them celebrate.

But the bridesmaids didn’t have candles, they had oil lamps – and flasks of oil. Oil is a symbol of the Holy Spirit, the Giver and Sustainer of Life, God in us, empowering us. The wise bridesmaids told the foolish bridesmaids, whose oil had run out, to go to the dealers. After midnight! God the Father and Jesus pour out the Spirit on our lives, so we can ‘Shine as a light in the world to the glory of God the Father.’ As we wait for Jesus, we ensure that our flasks are regularly topped up by coming to God, in worship, on a regular basis.

That is what today is about. First we acknowledge the darkness; then we entrust those who live in darkness and those who now live in light to God, who rules over the night and the Day; and then we respond in hope and commitment, to strive for all that makes for peace, heal the wounds of war, and work for a just future for all humanity – as dependent on God in this as an oil lamp is to oil.