Matthew 25:1-13
Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten young women took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’
Then all those young women got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’
And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet, and the door was shut. Later the other young women came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’
Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.
My guess is, you don’t like this parable. That’s okay, I didn’t like it either at first pass. And you probably don’t like it for one of these reasons.
First, everyone seems pretty unfair to the five “foolish” women. The women with extra oil are too selfish to share just a little bit. I seem to recall lots of other stories and parables where sharing our resources is the whole point. Even later in this chapter Jesus says what is done to those without food, water, clothing, is done to him. Yet these bridesmaids are called “wise”. Why not stingy? I guess oil doesn’t rank high enough.
Second, foolish seems a little harsh of an adjective don’t you think? Sure maybe they are unprepared, but preparedness isn’t the issue here, is it? Jesus doesn’t say at the end of this parable “be prepared.” Or “carry extra oil.” He says, “stay awake.” But don’t all ten of the bridesmaids fall asleep? Yes and all were awakened by the same shout at midnight.
Why does Jesus say to keep awake then if some who fell asleep were welcomed into the party but others were not?
Third, was it not the bridegroom’s fault that they all fell asleep in the first place? If he had just arrived when he said he was going to, then everyone’s lamp would have had enough oil, nobody would have fallen asleep, and everyone would have gone to the party. So why is there not more blame on the bridegroom?
You’ve felt like that in your faith life, too, no? If Jesus had just been there, if your prayers had just been answered, then maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did…
Lastly, perhaps why I struggle with this parable most, and maybe you too, is because it seems like the point of the whole thing is not simply be prepared, but be perfect. The five foolish bridesmaids did everything they were supposed to: they got ready for the wedding banquet, they grabbed their lamps and made sure they had oil in them, they went to the right location to welcome the bride and groom, they stayed awake as long as they could, but because they didn’t have extra oil, they can’t come to the banquet? Is the point of this parable?
You did everything you were supposed to, just not enough of it? Must we be perfect, plus some?
We all have that thing we’d like to think we can be perfect at. When I was a kid, I was convinced you could have a perfect day. And by perfect, I mean do all the things you’re supposed to do, for the length of time you're supposed to do them. I started a log so that I could track it all: wake up, pray for 10 minutes, read a few chapters of my Bible, eat breakfast, shower, clean ears, brush teeth, floss.
At this point though, I wasn’t sure what the perfect order to the perfect day should be. Should I shower then eat breakfast? Maybe eat breakfast first, then pray. But you should pray before meals? What if I cleaned my ears after I flossed? How long should I floss? At that point, I was convinced a perfect day was not possible and never finished making the log.
Perhaps your pursuit of perfection takes place at your job, or your role as parent, your financial plan, your diet, workout routine, skincare regimen, grades, or sports (playing or watching). But I bet by now you’ve figured out that perfection is not possible. And really, it’s not what we want in the first place.
At least that’s what Jonanthan Biss, a concert pianist, argues in a New York Times article he wrote this time last year. He believes perfection limits how we live and stunts our society.
He talks about the demands of classical musicians, their training not to make mistakes,
and how musicians' pursuit of perfection does not improve their performance, but gets in the way of true connection with the audience. “You cannot learn or grow while trying to appear as if you have everything figured out.” He sees it most in young musicians who play all the right notes, but take no risk in making music. Perfection gets in the way of what the music is really after, offering up the whole of one’s self, risks, mistakes and all, and trusting that’s what the audience will connect with and actually wants.
And that pursuit of perfection shapes how we hear this parable. Jesus is not interested in our perfection, what we have to offer, nor how much. Reading the parable a little closer, the five bridesmaids are not left out of the banquet because they didn’t have enough oil. They are left out because they were away buying oil when the groom showed up. The problem isn’t their failure to be perfect.
It’s that in trying to get what they think they needed for the celebration, they missed the person they were there to celebrate in the first place!
I am fairly certain, had the bridesmaids stayed there, lamps out, looking bashful in the shadow of the five wise bridesmaids, Jesus the bridegroom would have said, who cares about your lamps, it’s time to celebrate. Think of how many times you’ve been to a wedding and someone wasn’t dressed right or showed up late or was already intoxicated, and yet the bride and groom still welcomed them? How much more do you think Jesus the heavenly bridegroom will welcome you, flaws and all?
But more important than what would have happened is what did happen. The parable ends with the door slammed in the face of the foolish bridesmaids, left alone in the dark. But we know the rest of the story, it’s just not in this chapter. And what the rest of the story tells us is that Jesus doesn’t leave the foolish out in the dark of night. No, if the kingdom of heaven is indeed like a wedding banquet, at the cross Jesus the bridegroom willingly leaves the party, meets us the bridesmaids in the darkness and says, “to hell with the lamp and oil. Take my spot.”
That’s the exchange that happens in the death and resurrection of Jesus - him entering darkness and death to give you life.
And because Jesus meets our shortcomings with mercy, we can meet one another there, too. The holidays will surely give ample opportunity. When someone arrives late and empty-handed, we can welcome them with a seat at the table and a full plate. When someone starts apologizing because their house is a mess, we can say, “I’m glad to be here with you.”
In the weeks to come, you will encounter someone who doesn’t have what they should or hasn’t done what they promised. When you catch yourself noticing what’s missing, pause long enough to notice the person in front of you. Jesus did a lot more than simply welcome us with all that we lack. Maybe we can do the same.
And when it’s you who comes up short, when the day wasn’t perfect, you missed the notes, or you didn’t make the grade, or something far worse, you can trust that same mercy.
So take the risk, show up empty-handed. Because it’s not perfect preparedness, lit lamps with lots of oil that Jesus is after.
It’s you.
Amen.
