The Saturday Journal: Oil for My Lamp

The Sunday School class was four and five-year-olds and it was my Sunday to teach.  Lesson number 16–The Parable of the Ten Virgins. And I was a little hesitant–no, I was A LOT hesitant about teaching this lesson.  I wanted to call the other teacher and tell her we were skipping lesson number 16 and moving on to the next one. 

I was worried about the questions the children would ask--why wouldn’t the women share their oil--among other questions I wasn't ready to answer.  

We got through the lesson--the children and I. And not once did they question Jesus' story. Not once.

They listened.

And thinking back throughout the many years of teaching Sunday School and Vacation Bible School--I have been asked many questions about the stories in the Bible, but never once have I had one child ask...

How does God makes rainbows--

How'd all those animals fit on the ark--

How'd God part the Red Sea--

And just how did Jonah survive in the belly of the fish--or how can a small rock kill a giant. 

Children are like that–they listen with childlike faith--in awe. Simply put, they believe with a much larger faith. 

I haven’t thought too much about the old oil lamp that used to sit on top of the dresser in my Grandpa and Grandma’s bedroom and it's been a while since I read the scriptures written in lesson number 16 (Matthew 25:1-13)

My grandparents' clear glass lamp was always filled with red oil–ready to be lit along with just enough wick to light a flame. They were very protective of the lamp--it's for when storms come and the power goes out, they said. Me and my brothers, we would sometimes get in trouble if we messed with the lamp.  Our Grandma was afraid we may break it and get cut. And our Grandpa, he would yell at us because we would sneak and roll the wick up too high and he would have to rethread it.

The lamp has been resting in my kitchen for years, the base filled with dried flowers and scents of lavender and rose.  I washed the lamp a few weeks ago as best I could--the roller, still rusted with age--removed the flowers and placed it back on the shelf.

And the lamp was just what it was—empty.

And maybe it was because of the hollow of the lamp and the lack of oil and the lack of the wick that I have been reflecting and remembering the parable of the five wise and the five foolish.

And in the local hardware store where wood floors sing old songs–the clerk kindly asked, ‘May I help you find something?’ 

‘Yes, please.  I need a new wick and oil for my lamp.’

Thinking back on lesson number 16…why would the children even ask about the sharing… the story has nothing to do with the sharing of the oil.  It’s about the diligent faith. The watching.  The waiting.  The preparing for the coming of the Lamp.   And five were ready and sadly, five were not.  

For thou art my lamp, O LORD: and the LORD will lighten my darkness.  

2 Samuel 22:29 

And the flame in the old lamp still burns bright and warm after all these years, and the bitter wind whispers in the dark, fall’s coming.  And the glory of the Lamp–it will never dull or grow dim for the path will always be lit by His flame.

Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.

Matthew 25:13

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We spend our years as a tale that is told.

Psalm 90:9

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