Nov. 12, 2023

I speak to you in the name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier.  Amen.

I have a confession to make.  I had a sermon all written.  It was pretty good.  It had all four things a sermon needs – a beginning, a middle, and an end that all went together.  And then I went to diocesan convention, and inspiration struck.  The Spirit broke into my life in a completely unexpected way.  I wasn’t ready for it, and I’m still not really ready to preach today.  I might not get it all just right.  But – and we’ll get to this in a bit – I think that’s what our Gospel reading today  is all about.

The general consensus is that the writer of Matthew’s Gospel meant for the parable of the ten bridesmaids to be an allegory – a story with a hidden meaning.  A story where the bridegroom is Jesus, at the Second Coming.  The bridesmaids represent the church – made up of all kinds of people.  The wedding feast to which they will accompany the bridegroom is Eternal Life in the Kingdom of God.  And the oil and the lamps represent the consistent hard work that readies us for that life.

Many of us will find this interpretation disturbing.  It feels like we drawn into a frightening either/or.  Be prepared, like the wise bridesmaids, and join the wedding party.  Or, be unprepared and be left in the outer darkness, longing to celebrate with those inside.  These themes of judgment and end times are unsettling – in no small part because they’ve been abused by a section of Christianity that includes best-selling authors who’ve described the end of human history in graphic and violent ways. 

And the conclusion Jesus draws seems not just ridiculous, but impossible.  Keep awake?  For how long?  Perhaps the most frightening part of this Gospel message is its recognition of our humanness.  We aren’t perfect people.  At one time or another, we’re going to fail in every aspect of life.  Whether that’s in a friendship or a relationship, in a job or a volunteer effort, or yes, even in our life of faith, we’re going to fail.

I think our biggest challenge with this parable comes from our instinctive desire to judge the foolish bridesmaids.  They must be foolish because they’re the ones with no oil, right?  So it’s easy to fault them for their unwillingness to prepare for the bridegroom’s arrival – for Jesus’ return. 

So here’s the journey I want us to take today.  I want us to suspend judgment of the foolish bridesmaids.  Instead, I want us to wonder – how might this story be different if the foolish bridesmaids had simply stayed where they were and continued to wait?

The problem with the foolish bridesmaids leaving is that there are no all-night oil dealers.  No Kwik Trips or Speedways or 24-hour pharmacies they could swing by to get what they needed.  And even if they manage to scrounge up some oil, there’s no way they can return in time to meet the bridegroom.  Leaving virtually assures that their exclusion from the wedding party.  It’s a story that can’t possibly have a happy ending for them.

So, what if they had stayed?  What if the bridegroom were to arrive and say “you know what.  Five lamps are enough.  Come along with us and witness the marriage and sing and eat and dance to your hearts’ content?”  What if the bridegroom welcomed everyone to the banquet, no matter how much oil they had?

This parable starts out “The Kingdom of God is like….”  So what do we think the Kingdom of God is like?  This story might seem like it’s been written specifically to conjure fear in our hearts.  But has it?  Do we think the Kingdom of God is a kingdom built on fear?  That God’s purpose is to guilt-trip or manipulate us into the work of discipleship?  Or is this story fearful because we assume that the Kingdom of God is somehow like the Kingdom of the World, which is definitely, absolutely built on fear.

Maybe the foolish bridesmaids aren’t foolish because they have no oil.  Maybe the foolish bridesmaids are foolish because they leave.  Because they fail to realize that the invitation to join the wedding party is good no matter what.  They are foolish because they don’t trust that their desire to join the wedding party is enough.  They are foolish because they give in to their fears – of failure – of their own flawed humanity.

Don’t misunderstand me.  Jesus’ message throughout Matthew’s Gospel is consistent.  Each of us is called to deepen our discipleship day in and day-out as we practice the Way of Jesus in small but meaningful ways.  To see that God’s story is our story as we try out experiments of Christian community, witness, and service with our neighbors.  All that is vital.

But today Jesus is clear about one thing.  Through the work of the Spirit, he’s going to break into our lives in new and unexpected ways.  And just like I was – like I am – we won’t always be completely ready.  But the Good News the Gospel brings us this morning is that we aren’t going to be judged on our humanness.  What we’ll be judged on is this: has our preparation made us hopeful and courageous and willing enough to walk with Jesus?  Or are we foolish enough to give into our fear and run away just because everything isn’t just right?  

If we think the Kingdom of God is built on fear, then we fundamentally misunderstand who God is.  The truth is that the Kingdom of God never built on fear, but always on love. 

Let’s retell this parable for today.  Then the Kingdom of God will be like a wedding feast, whose host said: “Come to this table, you who have much faith, and you who would like to have more.  Come, you who have been here often, and you who have not been for a while.  Come, you who have tried to follow Jesus, and you who have failed.  But you are all welcome, so long as you come.”  Amen.