Homily: Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
Wisdom 6:12–16 | 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18 | Matthew 25:1–13
8 November 2026
Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA
One time, I picked up my phone and saw that it was not working. I tapped the screen several times, pressed a few buttons, and even tapped on it harder in an attempt to fix it. After all, as a teen, I learned to hit our picture tube TV on the side when the picture was not clear, and that almost always solved the problem. Unfortunately, it did not work with my phone. It turned out I simply forgot to charge it! The phone was perfectly fine. Nothing was broken. The battery was simply drained. And no amount of tapping, pressing, or complaining would make it work. It needed to be recharged!
Something similar can happen in our spiritual lives. We can try our best to be pious—praying every morning and evening, before every meal, never missing Sunday Mass, and even volunteering at church. However, at some point, we notice that we have become impatient, prayer feels like a burden, we are easily irritated, and serving others no longer gives us the same joy. Sometimes, we keep tapping on the same old buttons, hoping things will improve. But perhaps what we simply need is to recharge.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us about ten virgins who were waiting for the bridegroom. Five were wise, and five were foolish. All ten brought lamps. All ten went out to meet the bridegroom. And when he was delayed, all ten became drowsy and fell asleep. Here is an interesting detail: the foolish virgins were not completely unprepared. They had oil when they started. They simply did not bring enough for a longer wait. They assumed that what they had at the beginning would be enough until the end.
Sometimes, we fool ourselves into thinking that one generous donation, one successful church project, or one tear-jerking conversion experience is enough to sustain us forever. Recall that retreat you attended years ago, the beautiful experience of prayer you once had, the enthusiasm you felt when you first discovered and embraced your vocation, or the time when serving others gave you so much joy. Think about the time when going to Mass was something we looked forward to, when helping others came naturally, when we had more patience and generosity. Was every moment of our lives like that? Are we always living on a high? We have to be grateful to God for those moments, but we cannot rely only on memories. Yesterday’s prayer cannot replace today’s prayer. Yesterday’s forgiveness can not excuse today’s resentment. Yesterday’s generosity cannot substitute for today’s love. We can not keep the lamps of today burning with the oil of yesterday.
I invite you to take note of another detail: even the five wise virgins fell asleep! They also got tired. They also experienced the long wait. Jesus does not expect us to be tireless, constantly enthusiastic, or to have everything figured out. The difference was that the wise virgins had brought enough oil to keep their lamps burning when the unexpected happened. That is what a living faith requires. It is not about perfection but replenishment. It is not constant excitement but daily nourishment.
This is where our First Reading becomes important. The Book of Wisdom tells us that Wisdom is radiant and unfading. She is readily perceived by those who love her and found by those who seek her. In fact, she even goes about looking for those who are worthy of her (Wisdom 6:12–16). I find that beautiful. We spend so much time looking for God, but Wisdom reminds us that God is also making Himself available to us. We only need to keep seeking, listening, and making room for Him. We can not assume that because we encountered God yesterday, we no longer need to seek Him today.
And St. Paul, in the Second Reading, gives us something even more important to hold on to. He writes to a community grieving the death of their loved ones. He does not tell them to stop grieving. He tells them not to grieve like those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Why? It is because Jesus died and rose again. Those who belong to Christ will also share in His resurrection. Our hope is not based on how strong our faith feels on a particular day. It rests on the faithfulness of the Risen Lord.
This is the oil we need: a relationship with Christ that we continue to nourish, a hope that carries us through difficult days, and a love that we keep putting into practice. And the good news is that we can always begin again. We can return to prayer. We can make peace with someone. We can become more patient. We can forgive. We can rediscover the joy of serving. We can ask God to renew what has grown tired within us.
So, the next time our phone refuses to work, let us remember: sometimes, the problem is not the phone. It simply needs to be charged. And when our faith grows weak, when our patience runs thin, or when our love begins to flicker, let us not simply keep tapping on the same old buttons. Let us return to the Source. Let us make time for prayer, for God’s Word, for the Eucharist, and for the people who need our love.
After all, it is not enough that our lamps were once burning brightly. It is not enough that our phones were fully charged yesterday. What matters is that there is still enough oil for today, and enough light for when the Bridegroom comes.
