And into a life of love and trust
Proper 27A | Matthew 25:1-13
Let’s reset the scene. Jesus was at the Temple. It’s what we know as Holy Week. They are about to prepare for the Passover. While Jesus is awaiting his final trial.
The disciples have watched as all of these different leaders—chief priests and scribes, Pharisees and their disciples, and the Sadducees each have confronted Jesus, trying to trick him into incriminating himself. And each time, Jesus has not only slipped out of their trap, but found ways to turn it around on them.
The whole event has an odd flavor to it. Like we’re not supposed to know exactly how to feel about it all. Because it doesn’t seem like Jesus likes any of this.
He’s there because he has to be.
And they are there because they are convinced they have to be there too.
A Spark
When they run out of traps, Jesus turns to the crowd. Literally thousands of people there on pilgrimages or to hear teaching from a rabbi. They watch all of this play out and Jesus starts talking to them directly.
And he just. goes. off.
All of chapter 23. Jesus is calling the Temple leaders hypocrites. Untrustworthy scoundrels. Liars and thieves.
This whole exercise was supposed to be a public humiliation of Jesus. They came to set him up. To get these people to laugh at him. And not only are the people not laughing at him, but Jesus has already revealed their character to the people.
So now what Jesus offers is a public scolding so severe that the word backfire doesn’t even begin to describe it. Because they were convinced Jesus was a false prophet, but he brings true prophet energy.
It isn’t the personhood of the Temple leaders that Jesus condemns. It is their oppressive, hypocritical greed.
And he says to them in no uncertain terms:
This will be the spark that sets it all ablaze.
Because Jerusalem is the city that kills its prophets. And there will be much death to come.
Jesus gets apocalyptic, predicting terrifying violence and division.
But not from anything God does. No, we do this to each other. We kill each other. Frighten each other.
By the time we get to the parable at the start of chapter 25, we shouldn’t be under any impression that Jesus thinks God is bringing pain and division. Or that the things that separate us have anything to do with God or faith or even tradition at all.
We want our way. And we think we’re right. And chances are, we’re the ones who will mess things up.
I really want to put a joke in here.
Because this is dark stuff. It really is. And then we read about these women and their lamp oil and we’re going to not notice there’s something wrong with the parable. And we’re going to read it with a deadly seriousness that somehow avoids thinking of death.
This is going to be how it works.
And now I’m imagining Monty Python having a go at this. And they’re going to argue over the proper place to purchase the lamp oil and what sort would go in this particular lamp. And one will complain about the cost and they’ll all miss the bridegroom’s arrival.
Can’t you see it? Imagining that wit and brilliance at work on this parable. It would be so bitingly funny. And they could see it, I think.
There is something wrong with this parable.
Which is why we can’t afford to read it straight. Out of its context. Without thinking about what Jesus has been teaching the whole time.
Because when we do read it straight and out of context, we’re going to impose a different context. A different frame. Completely different expectations.
We’re going to call the bridegroom “God”. And we’re going to say that prudence is the point. That’s what we’re going to say.
And we’re going to start theologizing about the difference between those bridesmaids who planned ahead and those “fools” who didn’t. We’re going to call prudence “righteous” and the character of the “good person” who will go to heaven. And the fool will rot in hell.
And we’ll take it a step further and say that the prudence half of them display is “being a Christian” and that the foolishness the others display is “refusing Christ”.
We’ll impose all of this theology onto this text before the story’s even over. And we’ll do this without even acknowledging we’re doing it.
But the story is odd.
Because the bridesmaids are waiting forever. And they’re getting scared. It’s taking too long.
So…why don’t they come together? To share their light. They don’t each need a lamp. They don’t all need their own. Not when the groom is ignoring them. Nobody needs to go buy lamp oil, because what is the light for? What are they even doing?
This is a story that evokes questions! It isn’t giving us answers.
Jesus is giving out a test. To the crowds who have just met him and to those who have been following him for three years.
This whole story should be an opportunity to ask yourself:
What would I do?
As the day turns to dusk, and we’re dressed for a wedding, not a campout. Waiting with these other people? Some who have and some who don’t?
And why aren’t we asking about this idea of foolishness? That not bringing enough lamp oil gets you locked out of heaven? Do we even realize just how ridiculously cruel that sounds? That God doesn’t want forgetful people? Or people with ADHD? Or the developmentally disabled? Is that the story we really run with here?
Where are our questions?
Or
Where is our memory?
Jesus has already offered parables inviting us to compare the Kin-dom to a parable he offers. Because he trusts we already know.
We got a reminder of it last week with the Beatitudes, didn’t we. A place, not for the prudent, but the humble. The meek. Yeah he said the Kin-dom is theirs, isn’t it? Most of us will be lucky if we’re invited in.
That’s the comparison.
And he’s inviting us to compare this weird, dark parable about the bridesmaids when he’s talking about how the Hebrew people can’t trust the Temple leaders. And how those same leaders will go to war with Romans. And how everyone suffers.
Compare God’s Kin-dom to that.
Compare it to our meritocracies. Our individualism. And our selfishness.
That’s what he’s asking us to do.
We’re in the endgame now.
This isn’t the teaching he gives those fishermen at the beginning of the journey. When they haven’t even heard of the Kin-dom of Heaven. God’s dream for creation. When they’ve only seen glimpses and had no words for it.
And it isn’t when we were given the very power of Christ to heal the world and invited to go out and use it. When we came back all excited with surprise and joy in our hearts because it actually worked.
This is the second-to-the-last class of the course. We’re at the end of the semester. We’re supposed to have learned something long before now. We’re already supposed to be writing our papers and studying for the final.
Jesus invites us to claim it.
We know the Kin-dom.
And it isn’t on the other side of a locked door. And we aren’t waiting for some lazy bridegroom who forgot about us and left us out in the cold. All of that is so bonkers. But it’s how we live!
In our own homes expecting everyone else to take care of themselves. To just have enough to live on. Or else go get it.
When they had been out all day and Jesus noticed they were hungry, what did the disciples say? Tell them to go into town and feed themselves.
And what did Jesus say? You feed them.
That’s the heart of this.
A story we already know.
We’re just afraid of the dark. And we’re seduced to think everything is individualistic. That our lives are separate.
We see a story about some women and each of them has a lamp and we all go, “of course they do.” And what is our next thought? They each need oil to make their lamps go. Because, “of course they do.” And then when we hear that only five of them have enough — and only enough for themselves — and they say to the others you need to go into town and get your own we go “of course they do.”
But hopefully we do catch on, don’t we? And we start trying to solve the problem differently. And we talk about pooling resources or sharing with one another. Ten women with five lamps? Everybody buddy-up!
We already know this.
So as we start to explore, our ideas become more natural, don’t they? And we can see all kinds of solutions. And even new ways of seeing the situation they’re in. About being stuck out there in the first place. Or whose bright idea is it to even have a lock on that door. Or why did they even go along with this charade to begin with?
Because we know the heart of the Kin-dom isn’t separation, fear, death—it’s community, hope, and life!
And the more we embody the Kin-dom’s wisdom, the more the Kin-dom comes alive in our lives.
And we welcome and share and comfort and give hope.
Then all of those things that contrive us to wait in darkness are exposed for what they are. And all of the celebrations, the gatherings, the invitations to serve and be with friends are revealed for what they are. The grace of God.