At some point later in the day or early evening, most of us will get a little tired and drowsy. If we expend much energy, or even do nothing at all, the body will tire after a certain number of hours of being awake. A handful of us are like the Ever-ready bunny, banging on the drum of life from early dawn until late in the evening, burning the midnight oil. But many of us could settle for a short nap for our bodies later in the day. Having accomplished much good, or nothing at all, we enjoy a rest. The theme for this Sunday’s readings is drowsiness, and not joining certain groups of drowsers, but holding fast to our faith in Christ. I do question at times – when I reach a certain level of frustration – whether the Bishops in our country have become collectively drowsy for the past number of decades with regard to proclaiming the entire Gospel openly with forthrightness, while holding others accountable who subvert the Gospel. There seems to be a collective silence that hurts the Church as Christ founded Her, commanding the first Apostles to go out and teach the nations, baptizing the world in the name of the Holy Trinity. One re-reading of the Acts of the Apostles can bring their collective voices back to where they need to be for the good of God’s People. As the world expands its godlessness through actions and laws that destroy human life and settle for human saviors, their collective voices are much needed today. One re-reading of the Acts of the Apostles and meditating on the courage of the Shepherds Peter and Paul would remove all the contemporary drowsiness and deafening silence. When our Bishops do not collectively have the oil of fortitude in their lamps, they become, like Jesus says in the parable, foolish. We want leaders who own an entire oil company, where the oil for their lamps never runs low, like it never did for Peter or Paul. Fortunately, our Worcester Bishop has lots of oil. We are blessed. But all of them as one voice collectively? Not as much. Today’s second reading from Paul to the Thessalonians is centered on death. The death of loved ones who believed in the resurrection. They expected that great and terrible day to happen while they were still awake. In their lifetime, the belief was that Jesus would return. Instead, they all went the way of dust. Paul, being the courageous Bishop that he was, settles the matter by writing about the necessity of hope. Paul instructs these virgin believers to place the oil of hope into the lamps of their faith. With other believers dying around them - their family members and friends, which we all can relate to – now some oil needs to be discovered that will allow their faith to stay lit, and not hold onto lamps that burn out. Many Christians today have allowed their lamps to be burned out. It makes me wonder as a priest how much of the burning out of their faith lies at the feet of episcopal silence for so long. Either way, the Thessalonians are hurting because of the death of their loved ones. That sounds familiar for many of us. Some things never change for those who love others. And hurting because of someone’s death is one of them. In this month of November when we lovingly remember the souls of all the faithful departed, St. Paul, the great Apostle and Bishop, places into all our lamps of faith the type of crude oil that keeps us true to Jesus until the end. It’s the oil of hope, which is anything but crude. “We do not want you to be unaware about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope.” Grieving is allowed for any of us who are faithful, but never without the hope of being together again with our brothers and sisters in the Lord. As Catholics, there is no pretending like our stock of oil runs dry for the lamps of our faith. Do not allow such complacency to overpower your faith life. As some people moan and groan and bewail the results of the election this week, pretending like that’s the only part of life that matters, Christians do not lose hope in what concerns us first. When we die from this world, when Jesus shows up at midnight knocking on the door saying “Let me in to collect my faithful people,” and you’re outside slumbering while smoking a pack of Camels, or outside with our crying towels because one of them is going to lose, pretending like heaven has fallen never to be picked up again. When Jesus shows up, the first way we are ready with an abundance of oil in our lamps of faith is to stay focused on him. Stay centered in Christ. For those who are angry, this is an opportunity to draw deeper into the Lord, letting go much more of this world as we walk toward eternal life. Maybe that’s what he’s asking you to do. And if your candidate wins, then do the same. Death is the great equalizer, as the Thessalonians found out. We’re all on the same page with that reality. It’s best to be wise than foolish, possessing hope as the oil for our lamps.