Matthew 25:1-13
I am the kind of person who watches the Super Bowl for the commercials because some commercials these days are really great.
There is one that is aired a lot now that I love. It shows a family going through security in an airport. The dad gets through first and one of the TSA workers says to him, “Enjoy your flight.” Without thinking the man says, “You too.” And everything stops. The employees and his family members look at him as though he has somehow betrayed them. The TSA workers are offended, his kids are humiliated, and his wife says to him, “I thought I knew you.”
It’s a huge overreaction about a tiny little mistake this guy made. I hope I never find myself in that situation. This poor man would surely like to rewind the tape and try again. If only he had a chance, you can bet he would be a little more mindful of what he was hearing and how he was responding. It’s funny, in a squirmy kind of way.
So it is with this parable in Matthew, about the wise and foolish bridesmaids. Is it supposed to be funny? Because in so many ways it feels absurd.
Absurd. You have ten bridesmaids waiting around for the groom. Is there a bride? Who knows? There is no mention of one, but wouldn’t you think ten bridesmaids would be attending to the bride?
We are woefully short on meaningful details here. The women have to go out and meet the groom, somewhere. He’s not where he is supposed to be, though. Why? Again, who knows? So, they wait…and wait…and wait. They all fall asleep. And then he arrives. Here’s where it begins to get objectionable.
The women all get up and prepare to meet the groom, but five of them have brought extra oil for their lamps and five of them have not. Five of them were able to refill their lamps that have gone out, but five of them were not. Five of them asked for help, five others refused to help. Five of them had to leave to find more oil for their lamps (because evidently it was not permissible to greet the groom unless you had a lamp burning), and so five of them missed the arrival of the groom. Five of them joined the groom at the wedding banquet, but five of them were left out in the dark of night.
And when they called out to the groom, saying, “We’re here,” he answered them, “I don’t know you.”
I find several stumbling blocks in this parable. And so I need to find a different angle from which to view it, hear it. So, here’s what I know.
Knowing when Matthew was writing this, and who he was writing to, is a part of that angle. The gospel was written 40 to 50 years after Jesus was crucified. The church was on its way to becoming what it is, but there were a lot of things they were still trying to figure out. Just what it meant to be a follower of Christ, for example. That’s only central and foundational to everything else, right? To understand what it is to be a Christian?
Initially it meant being Jewish. But that had changed, as the apostles took the gospel far afield of Israel and gained converts by the hundreds everywhere they went. At the same time, tension between the Christ followers and the institutions of Judaism were growing, up to the point where the Christians were either thrown out or decided to leave.
Initially, the church thought being a Christ follower meant being a Jew, but it turned out not to be so.
Initially it meant waiting for Christ to return. By all reports, he said, “I’ll be back!” There was every reason to believe that he would come back for them and take them with him, like a bridegroom coming to take his bride. And so they waited…and waited…and waited.
We gather from some of Paul’s writings that they were very worried about what was going to happen. They were trying to wait, but some of them were dying. What would that mean? What would happen to the ones who couldn’t wait, through no fault of their own?
What about the ones who were left, who felt like they had been in a holding pattern for 40 years now? What did it even mean at this point to be waiting? Were they the foolish ones? What were they waiting for?
Initially, the church thought being a follower of Christ meant waiting for his return, but by this time they were having grave doubts.
From this angle, a story about the importance of waiting is meaningful. For the people Matthew was writing to. But is that enough for us?
I think that understanding how parables work is also a necessary angle. As some have taken to saying about politics, it seems apt here to say: We should take it seriously, but not literally. A parable is never meant to be taken literally, for it is an attempt to come right up alongside our lives, just close enough that we can see the parallels, without ever telling us precisely what we ought to do. A parable is a work of art, in which we look for connections to life as we know it.
And so we find some pieces that seem important. The waiting for something wonderful that is going to happen – although we don’t know when. The uncertainty about the end of it all, when and what it will be like. And perhaps the uncertainty about how to be one who waits. What does it mean for us to be waiting for Jesus?
It is the hardest aspect of the Advent season, which is just right around the corner. Advent is about waiting for Jesus – both the infant whose birth we will celebrate on Christmas, and the return of Christ, whose arrival will signify a new age, a new world. It’s a very heady prospect.
And our lives are full of demands and distractions – how is it possible to keep our eye on the door waiting for Jesus to walk in? We sleep, we work, we tend to many other things, and we make mistakes. Like the guy in the airport. Like the women who failed to bring extra oil. Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy on the ones who forget the extra vial of oil, the ones who forget to buy extra batteries for the flashlight. Lord, have mercy on the ones who forget to pack diapers and wipes when they go to the park with their babies. Have mercy on the ones who get to the check-out line with a cart full of groceries and realize they have forgotten their reusable bags. Lord, have mercy on us for we are a busy and forgetful people.
We can’t always get it right.
We can’t stay awake every minute.
We can’t remember everything no matter how hard we try.
But we are waiting for you, Lord, even if we lose our focus at times. Even if we have to step out of the line because we realize there is something we failed to attend to, something important, something that will help us keep our focus, keep us awake and alert for another day; something that will allow you to recognize us when the day comes. So that you won’t ever say, “I thought I knew you. But I don’t know you.”
Is it too late, we ask, Lord; is it too late to step out of line and find what it is I’ve left behind, the oil in my lamp, the forgiveness in my spirit, the love in my heart, the generosity in my soul. I know I can’t borrow that from someone else, I need to find my own. Is it too late?
Is it too late?
Sometimes, when I look for a different angle on this story, I imagine this: the women are waiting, and one of them suddenly thinks, “I didn’t think to bring extra oil. I might run out. What can I do?” And one of the women who has extra oil smiles at her and says, “This is true, you might. Now would be a good time to go out and get some more. It will be useful to you.” And so, all the women who have neglected to bring enough oil go out to get the oil they will need. They know now what they need, and they don’t hesitate. They might be tired because it’s late, but they know this is important, so they prioritize it. They go.
They go out in search of this oil as though their lives depended on it.
Photo: ChurchArt.com
