Jesus said, “Then the kingdom of heaven may be compared to ten maidens who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five wise. For the foolish ones, in taking the lamps, did not take oil with them. But the wise ones took oil in flasks with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them grew drowsy and slept. But at midnight a shout went up, ‘Behold the bridegroom. Go out to meet him!’ Then all those maidens arose and trimmed their lamps. The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil because our lamps are going out.’ The wise ones answered and said, ‘Perhaps there will not be enough for us and for you. Go instead to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’ When they went away to buy the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him into the marriage feast, and the door was closed. Later the other maidens came and said, “Lord, lord, open for us.’ But he answered and said, ‘Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Watch therefore, because you do not know the day or the hour.’” (Matthew 25.1-13)
As we consider the passage from scripture today, it is good for us to remember that the evangelist Matthew has organized his text by way of five major discourses or teachings. Again, it is helpful to recall that the first discourse is close to the start of the gospel and is found in the Sermon on the Mount. With this discourse, the evangelist presents Rabbi Jesus as the new Moses or, in other words, as the new teacher.
The final or fifth discourse is near the end of the gospel, providing in many ways the other bookend to the first discourse. This discourse will end with the so-called judgment of the nations in which Rabbi Jesus presents the criteria by which the Most High God will judge the peoples of the earth at the end of time. As in the Beatitudes, found in the first discourse, each of which begins with the word “blessed,” highlighting in this way those esteemed by God, so here, in the final judgment, the Most High God will use the word “blessed” to refer to those who have done his will and so will now inherit his kingdom.
In this last of his discourses–the crucifixion narrative begins immediately after–Rabbi Jesus uses four stories to convey his teachings, each of which focus on judgment. First, there is the story of the lazy servant who eats and drinks his life away, believing his master is not going to return anytime soon. The second is the story of the ten bridesmaids whom we meet today. Again, the foolish ones find themselves unprepared when the bridegroom returns, much the same as the evil servant did.
The third follows, the story of the talents once again emphasizing much the same message, the focus on servants who have been entrusted with their master’s wealth, a man who expects them to use it wisely and increase his well-being, some of whom do, one of whom does not, the latter receiving a harsh judgment for his failure to use wisely the master’s resources.
The fourth and last is the judgment of the nations, repeating the same theme, presenting in concrete terms the expectations of the Most High God and the dire consequences for those who fail to fulfill those expectations, beginning with the dyad, “When I was hungry, you did not give me to eat. I was thirsty and you did not give me to drink.”
This background is important to our understanding of that part of the final discourse that we study today, the story of the ten bridesmaids. As we easily can see, the elements are the same as those found in the other three stories. There are those who do their duty and they are rewarded. Also, there are those who do not do their duty, and they are judged accordingly.
Essentially, the plot is the same in each story, only the actors changing. In each one, there is someone who has been entrusted with a responsibility which they either do or do not handle well. The one in charge returns at some point and punishes those who have failed to meet their responsibility. And, frankly, the punishment is not pretty. For the foolish bridesmaids, as we see, the door is locked and they are denied entrance into the banquet, a dire message for sure.
One other thing is critical to our understanding of this final discourse. And that is Matthew’s own intentions in retelling or recasting these stories. While it is clear that the primary purpose in each story is doing what is expected of us, the secondary purpose is presenting the unpreparedness of those who have failed in their responsibilities, the one in charge coming at a time they do not expect, resulting in their being caught as terribly remiss in their duties.
That secondary theme is particularly pertinent to Matthew and to his intended readers. The reason is simple. The early Christian believers were convinced that the Risen Lord would return soon, this second coming of his to reclaim the world, and, in this way, asserting himself as the expected Messiah who would restore Israel and punish her adversaries.
However, by the time of Matthew’s writing, decades had passed since the ascension of the Lord Jesus to the right hand of his Heavenly Father and, with each passing day, it became clearer that his return was not imminent, as they had expected. As a result, his followers–like the people in the stories told here–were becoming lackadaisical and lackluster.
Matthew, through his use of these stories, intends to spur his listeners to a faithful discipleship that does not weaken over the long haul, but remains strong and endures to the end. In other words, he wants them to be like the five wise bridesmaids who stand ready at any moment for the bridegroom’s return, their lamps full of oil, casting light for the bridegroom to see.
As Matthew sees it, while this parousia, or second coming of the Risen Lord, has been delayed the same as the return of the bridegroom, the true follower does not flag or fail in his or her responsibilities, but stays strong to the end, however long the delay. By way of these stories, Matthew is simply reiterating what Paul of Tarsus, coming close to the end of his days, wrote in his letter to Timothy, “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness.”
While it was necessary and important for Matthew to put the second coming of the Lord Jesus front and center in these stories, emphasizing to his listeners the need for preparedness for that imminent return, it wanes—at least in my opinion–two thousand years later, the end of the world no longer in the headlines, at least not in terms of the parousia.
As a result, many readers of these texts choose to reinterpret the end times in terms of a person’s death, a very valid way of looking at the stories in my estimation, since it is, in real terms, the end of the world for us, our deaths irrevocably bringing to a close our days upon the earth. And, like those persons in the stories, we can find ourselves ready or not ready, since, oftentimes, death is as unpredictable as the second coming of the Lord Jesus.
So, while there are still many who will use these texts today to engender fear in their listeners about the calamities and catastrophes of the end times, hoping in this way to reignite some semblance of responsible discipleship because judgment awaits them–and while that is arguably fine–I think a better course might be to stay with the primary purpose of these stories. That is, reminding us to take seriously our responsibility as followers of the Lord Jesus.
Because, truth be told, if we are earnest in our duties as disciples, then it really doesn’t matter when or if the Lord returns any time soon or if he is delayed. Either is fine because we are hard at work, doing what we are supposed to be doing. And what is that? Bringing to life the kingdom of heaven here on earth through the ways and words of Rabbi Jesus.
The point, of course, is that we have opportunities each and every day to make real the teachings of the Galilean Teacher. However, the problem is that there are as many missed opportunities as there are opportunities, the many occasions when we choose not to do the work of a disciple, or worse, picking and choosing the ways we want to follow Rabbi Jesus like a child picking out his favorite color of M&Ms from a bowl of candy.
A priest serving in the National Cathedral in Washington once told the story of a man in the pew who often came to the noon celebration of the Eucharist. On a particularly cold and ugly day in February, the man, an executive in a downtown firm, entered the church and took a seat. Soon, he saw a man a few pews in front of him who was shaking from the cold. It didn’t take much to figure out that the man was homeless and had come into the church to get warm.
Sitting in his pew, the executive thought about what he could do. There was no question about the need of the homeless man in front of him. And he also knew what Rabbi Jesus’ response would be if faced with the same situation. After all, Jesus had said to give the shirt off our back to the person who had none. The problem, as the executive saw it, was that he had an old coat hanging in his closet at home that he would happily give to the homeless man.
But, today he was wearing his dress coat, new and not showing any wear or tear. While he could easily have parted with the one in his closet, he was not so quick to let go of the one on his back. After all, he had an afternoon ahead of him when he was meeting with important people and he needed to present himself in proper attire.
Not that he wasn’t a good man. He was. And, as a consequence, he couldn’t clear his mind of the situation playing out in front of him. Distracted and discomforted, he pondered other possibilities, such as buying the man a coat. Finally, when the service was done, he concluded he needed to give the man his own coat.
So he approached the homeless man and tapped him on the shoulder. As he started to offer the man his coat, the homeless man thanked him and said, “Well, that’s very kind of you, but that other man who was sitting over there gave me his coat.” The executive, shamefaced, nodded his head and walked away, ashamed at the struggle that he had gone through just to reach the right decision.
An opportunity to do the right thing, to do the responsible thing as a follower of Rabbi Jesus, had presented itself to him, clear as day, but he had hesitated and only half-heartedly decided to give his coat to the man after precious minutes of back-and-forth arguments with himself. In short, he had failed to do his job.
His story, I think, presents as well as any the main point that the evangelist Matthew is trying to make when he shares the story of the bridesmaids who failed to do the task entrusted to them. Their job was to provide a light so that the groom and his bride could find their way along the dark path as they made their way to their new home. But, reckless and feckless, they failed, the opportunity to do their duty passing them by while their companions, dutiful and faithful, had their lamps burning brightly.
Decades ago, Elvis Presley sang a song about seizing the moment. The song was called “It’s Now or Never.” As we ponder the story of the ten bridesmaids, five of whom didn’t have their act together, we might want to remember that chorus. Rabbi Jesus reminds us yet again that when it comes to following his path, it’s now or never.
–Jeremy Myers
Sunday Brunch 