Introduction

For the Bible reader to continue cultivating the patience of Bible study, he must take very careful note of not just the celebrated passages but also the overlooked objects of Scripture. Scores of pastors are writing about justification, masculinity, and the Christian citizen; about how works have no relation to salvation, about how men need to suffer together through wilderness camping; about how we must convert the culture even as we live like the unconverted. There are indeed other topics in Scripture besides the thirty chapters in your favorite systematic theology or the half of a dozen topics in your favorite “man up” podcast.

Evangelical theology, on the whole, is so tiny because it ignores most of the Bible. There is indeed another way, even more pungent and vivid, that will keep you from settling down to believe the Bible a terribly thin thing. Hence arises at once a sanity and a subtlety to see the entire Bible, including topics that were previously left out of evangelical theology. One such topic is that of oil, which takes a surprisingly prominent place in the narrative of Scripture.

Oil in the Old Testament

In the Old Testament, oil makes 202 appearances across 187 verses. It pops up in patriarchal sacrifices (Gen. 28:18; Gen. 35:14), where no altar worth its salt went without a generous drizzle. It fuels the lamps of the sanctuary (Ex. 25:6; Ex. 27:20) while priests put it to work in consecrated bread recipes (Ex. 29:2, 23) and for anointing altars, kings, and priests (Ex. 29:7, 21; 30:31; 31:11; Lev. 8:10-12). Samuel, ever the kingmaker, used it to anoint young David (1 Sam. 16:1-13), and Elisha’s lads gave Jehu the same kingly oily treatment (2 Kings 9:1-13). These oil-anointed kings are spoken of as the lamps of Israel (2 Sam. 21:17; 1 Kings 11:36; 15:4). Priests also were anointed with oil (Ex. 30:22-33; Lev. 21:10), and such anointing symbolizes the Spirit poured out.

Oil was mixed with sacrifices (Ex. 29:40), combined with blood for sprinkling purposes (Lev. 8:30), and used with grain offerings (Lev. 2:1-16), though it was withheld from sin offerings (Lev. 5:11). Oil played a starring role in the cleansing of lepers, lending a hand in their return to civilized society (Lev. 14:10-29). As a mark of divine favor, oil flowed freely in times of blessing (Dt. 7:13; 11:14; Job 29:6), but when the heavens frowned, oil was removed (Dt. 12:17; 2 Sam. 1:21; Joel 1:10). Stored in vast quantities (1 Chron. 27:28; 2 Chron. 2:10; 11:11) and deemed precious (Prov. 21:20; Is. 39:2), oil was the ancient equivalent of liquid gold. It symbolized gladness (Is. 61:3) and spiritual healing (Ps. 141:5) and even settled debts in temple rebuilding projects (Ezra 3:7). In Persia, oil made a cameo in Esther’s beauty regimen, proving oil can even properly pamper royalty (Esther 2:12).

The most famous oil story involves Elisha and a destitute widow (2 Kings 4:1-7) hounded by creditors who were keen on snagging her sons as payment. So, the widow sought out Elisha for help. Elisha inquired, “What have you got in the house” (2 Kgs. 4:2). The widow, probably unimpressed, must have thought, “Nothing, that’s why I called you here!” She admitted to owning nothing but a small jar of oil. Elisha, seeing potential where others see despair, hatched a plan. “Borrow as many empty jars as you can,” he instructed, “from neighbors, cousins, and anyone not currently using theirs. Then shut the door and start pouring.” (2 Kgs. 4:3-4). The widow, game for anything at this point, followed his instructions to the letter. As she tipped her modest jar, the oil flowed like gossip in the seventh-grade girl's bathroom, filling jar after jar until there wasn’t an empty one left. “Sell the oil, pay your debts, and live off the rest,” Elisha instructed (2 Kgs. 4:5-7). Elisha turned a household supply crisis into an oil boom, revealing that with a little bit of oil, and following a prophet’s advice, you might just end up with a miracle.

Oil in the New Testament

In the New Testament, oil is mentioned far less frequently, yet more conspicuously. The Apostles use oil when they are sent out to heal (Mk. 6:13), similar to how the good Samaritan poured oil on the traveler’s wounds (Lk. 10:34). James gives the command for the elders to anoint the sick with oil and pray for their healing (James 5:14). In each case when oil is used in healing, Jesus is not physically present. The apostles use a symbol—oil—so that the healed person, in their ignorance, might not give credit to the apostles. The language in James 5:15 says, anoint “him with oil in the name of the Lord.” When the apostles and elders prayed for the sick, they used the symbol of oil to signify that this healing was through the power of Jesus Christ.

In the Parable of the Dishonest Manager, oil is economically valuable (Lk. 16:6), which gives some meaning to why God anointed Jesus the Son with oil (Heb. 1:9) and the sinful woman anointed Jesus with oil (Lk. 7:46).

The Parable of the Ten Virgins also features oil. Here are ten young ladies, all dressed up and waiting for the bridegroom. Their job? To stand by with lamps and greet the bridegroom upon arrival. But as it plays out, the ten virgins are split into two factions, the wise and the foolish (Mt. 25:2). The foolish contingent, apparently a carefree, happy-go-lucky bunch, bring no oil for their lamps, evidently assuming that someone would lend them a splash when the time comes (Mt. 25:3). The wise virgins bring extra oil for their lamps (Mt. 25:4).

As the bridegroom delays, the virgins doze off (Mt. 25:5). At midnight, a cry goes up: “The bridegroom is here! Quick, light your lamps” (Mt. 25:6)! Panic sets in. The wise virgins whip out their flasks and get their lamps glowing. The foolish contingent realizes their oil reserves are precisely nil. They sidle up to their well-prepared companions and request a spot of the good stuff, only to be rebuffed with a firm “There’s only enough for us” (Mt. 25:7-8).

So off they scurry into the night, knocking on doors and waking up merchants (Mt. 25:9-10), while the bridegroom sweeps in and whisks the wise virgins into the feast. The doors close. The party begins (Mt. 25:10). The oil-less virgins return, breathless and bedraggled, only to find themselves on the outside. The host says, “I don’t know you” (Mt. 25:10-11). Jesus concludes the parable with a warning. Watch, therefore, and keep your lamp full of oil, lest you find yourself loitering in the dark while the wise virgins party with the Bridegroom (Mt. 25:13).

A Theology of Oil

Oil first appears in the Bible when Jacob builds a pillar, a pre-temple, to worship the Lord. He pours oil over the pillar (Gen. 28:18f; 35:13ff). Since this is the same spot as the ladder to heaven, this means Jacob’s oil-soaked pillars are about access to God. It’s called Bethel, which means “The House of God.” Jacob’s oil foreshadows how the Tabernacle would be anointed with oil (Ex. 40:9), including the priest, who would have oil poured on him (Lev. 8:12). So the oil represents the pouring out of the Holy One in Heaven, God coming down on the mountain, God filling the tabernacle, God anointing his Son as the New Adam who would come to earth in human flesh. And when Christ left the earth, he sent a better Helper (Jn. 14:14-31), poured out on Christ, and descended upon the Church at Pentecost. And this reminds us of the primary use of oil, namely, to provide fuel for the lamp so the glory-light would always burn (Ex 25:6; 27:20; Lev. 24:1-4; Zech. 4:3; 11-12).

Where does oil come from? Olives don’t simply exude oil of their own accord. No, they must be pressed and squeezed. The golden liquid is the result of crushing, much like grapes only produce wine when they are crushed and put through a process. Crushing is an undignified ordeal. Left to their own devices, neither the grape nor the olive would be transformed into something greater. But when they are put through the wringer, when they are crushed, then the wine and oil can flow.

And so the biblical precedent is this: crushing precedes anointing (Ps. 34:18). This precedent is invariably translated into different forms throughout Scripture, indeed, throughout life. Suffering precedes glory; sin precedes grace; death precedes resurrection; the supreme evil in history precedes the supreme love. This is why Christians don’t get scared off by a bit of a squeeze. When we experience sufferings and accept them in faith and trust the Lord and offer them to Christ in obedience to his suffering unto salvation, the darkness retreats from the bright and fixed light. That’s how the ordinary becomes something extraordinary, in other words, that’s how crushed sufferers become lamps that give light to the dark world.

Christians know they are supposed to be salt and light (Mt. 5:13-16). It’s one of the few metaphors evangelicals condone. As Jesus warns, the time and delay of the Bridegroom’s return cause half the people to snooze. Their light has no oil, their deeds have no sacrifice, and their talents have no use. So Christians need to be more than salty. They also need to be oily, which means, as we’ve seen, that they need to live like the Anointed One, Jesus Christ. Just as Jesus is anointed with the Spirit (Is. 61:1 Luke 4:18; Acts 10:38), Christians receive the Holy Spirit at our baptism (Acts 2:38). Christ is the preeminent golden lampstand (Rev. 1:12-17) and all those who are in Christ by faith have a light to shine (Mt. 5:14-16), like the virgins who keep burning lamps in readiness for the Bridegroom (Mt. 25:1-13).

Jason Cherry is an elder at Trinity Reformed Church in Huntsville, Alabama, as well as a teacher and lecturer of literature, history, and economics at Providence Classical School in Huntsville. He graduated from Reformed Theological Seminary with an MA in Religion and is the author of the books The Culture of Conversionism and the History of the Altar Call and The Making of Evangelical Spirituality.