Matthew 25:1-13
In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, we read this:
“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (Phil 2:5)
Hold on to that thought for a moment.
(Take out the glass and water, and pour water into the glass to halfway.)
So, I have to ask what I think is probably an obvious question.
Is the glass half full or is the glass half empty?
Regardless of how you have answered, the nature of the question itself is interesting, because it implies there are only two options.
As human beings we do have this tendency to be attracted to thinking in binary ways, in dichotomies.
Half full or half empty?
Wise or foolish young women?
Sinner or saint?
Good or bad?
In or out?
This kind of dualistic thinking appears to have become further entrenched in our social media feeds, our news reports, and our politics.
Either, or. Either, or.
Last week I read a report based on a survey called the MacKinnon Index, which tracks Australia’s democratic health. In reading this report I noticed that as Australians we have started to view our political life as a bit more half empty than half full.
The attack on Helen Haines has amplified our conversation about how we as Australians are thinking about each other and treating each other. In the days that followed, one news article suggested that the behaviour of our politicians, which I believe involves playing the person, not the policy reflects the behaviour of our wider society. We too have a habit of playing the person not the issue.
The MacKinnon Index tells us that 50% of Australians are satisfied with the way democracy works, but only 30% of Australians trust federal politicians.
One of the measurements that stood out for me is that only around 50% of young men between the ages of 18 and 24 believe that people can freely express political opinions. Alongside this, more than 1 in 4 young men say extreme measures such as violence can sometimes be justified to advance a cause.
Recall the words of Psalm 70. When people mock the psalmist – “Aha! Aha!”, as if they have caught him out – he turns to God in prayer and lament, not retaliation or violence.
I do not wish to deny that Australians are facing issues around the cost of living and housing affordability, but I do wonder whether, under the influence of our schoolyard-like political discourse and our sensationalist reporting, we are being trained to live with a dichotomous worldview and see the glass as half empty.
By most measures we remain a lucky country. But I am not suggesting we simply swap pessimism for optimism. The gospel offers us another way. A third option.
So where does our faith speak into this? Today we heard the story of ten young women waiting for the bridegroom. What might we be discerning as lifelong disciples of Christ in this story? How might we be transformed by the renewing of our minds?
The young women in this story would have been close friends, sisters, maybe cousins, waiting for the bridegroom to arrive, as ancient wedding practice required. The timing of his arrival was not set. We hear they all fall asleep.
Suddenly there is a fuss and a flutter as the figure of the bridegroom approaches. Now is their moment, now is their time! But given the delay the oil has run low, and an issue arises and becomes somewhat ironically inflamed.
At first glance, this looks like another either/or. Five wise, five foolish. Half full, half empty.
Let’s think about this as a congregation. If half of you have extra oil and half of you need more, how do you think and feel about this situation?
Jesus’ story tells us this group are not willing to share. This doesn’t feel right, does it? Remember what I said before: these young women were close friends, sisters, maybe cousins. There is great hurt in this story. Selfishness even.
Commentators often say the oil can’t be shared because readiness can’t be borrowed. That may be so. But I can’t help hearing Jesus’ own words.
Jesus has already told us, in Matthew 5:40–42, as part of the Sermon on the Mount: “If anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.”
At the heart of Jesus’ message lies a generous God who invites us to generosity even at great cost to ourselves. In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, we find the great kenosis hymn. Kenosis is about self-emptying: Jesus empties himself, taking the form of a slave, to share in our human existence. Remember where we began: “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”
Measured against Jesus’ own teaching, the so-called wise ones look less wise than we might expect.
What happens to those women left waiting outside? They act. They do not sit idly by and give up; they race off to the market in the middle of the night and somehow find someone to provide them with more oil. In the middle of the night! Their lamps were already out, so they find their way through dark streets to get what they need, and they return. What an effort!
They return to the wedding house. They knock on the door, equipped and ready to help the party, but the way is shut. The interaction sounds so final, so condemning.
The bridesmaids say, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ These words sound so similar to the ones we shared earlier in the service from Psalm 70: “I am poor and needy; come quickly to me, O God.” If those women had prayed in that moment, they might have chosen these very words. But the reply is disheartening.
‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’
I wonder if you, like me, have found this moment in the parable uncomfortable. Contradictory to the message of God’s unconditional grace. But Matthew is telling a bigger story, and there are more doors in his gospel.
For example, consider what Jesus taught his disciples in Matthew 7.
‘Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.’
For everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.
Matthew 7 does hold the other side too. A few verses later Jesus warns that not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” will enter. Matthew won’t let us flatten the gospel into a simple either/or.
Inside are a group who refused to do what Jesus taught, to share generously, even if it means your own suffering. Outside is a group experiencing rejection despite their last-ditch efforts to knock on the door, which Jesus said would be opened.
Jesus sums up the parable for his audience with these words: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Notice that Jesus does not mention oil, nor the wisdom or folly of those who bring extra or those who fail to.
Jesus’ critique is for those who fall asleep. Staying awake here means more than not dozing off; it means being alert to Christ’s presence. Remember verse 5: “As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept.” I can just hear Paul writing to the Romans, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God!”
Jesus’ dire warning to the disciples is to stay awake; to be ready for what is at hand, to be engaged with his presence, as the presence of the kingdom of heaven.
I wonder, does anyone remember what happens in Matthew 26? In the next chapter, Jesus shares the Last Supper with his disciples and then heads out to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. He takes Peter and James and John and asks them to wait and stay awake with him as he prays. The disciples, who had not long before heard the story of the wise and foolish bridesmaids and the call to stay awake. But what do they do? They go to sleep.
They go to sleep as their master struggles with his fate and prepares for the end of his life. Three times Jesus returns to find them asleep. He doesn’t reject them or shut them out; despite the fact they were not ready. The third time he wakes them to tell them that his betrayer is at hand.
The wise slept. The foolish slept. Peter, James and John slept. And if we’re honest, we sleep too. But remember too it is these very same sleepy heads who are the ones the risen Jesus sends out into the world in Matthew 28
Awake or asleep, God comes.
Nonetheless still we are left with bridesmaids inside who seem selfish, bridesmaids outside excluded, disciples who fall asleep.
Where is hope?
In Matthew 27 we are told about another door that is shut: a stone rolled by Joseph of Arimathea across the tomb of Jesus. A door closed; a barrier between life and death, between the incarnate God and the creation. This is the most impenetrable of doors. How can we rise above these perplexing questions?
Matthew reports that three days later, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, like the young women in our story, go out in the half-light before dawn to where the bridegroom lies. Once again there is a closed door. But as they approach, there is an earthquake, and an angel descends from heaven and rolls back the stone. The door is opened.
The angel invites the women to come and see, telling them, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.’
Oil or no oil, awake or asleep, living or dead God comes – and the door is opened.
In Matthew 28, just before the verses known as the Great Commission, we are told that when the risen Jesus meets his disciples, “they worshipped him; but some doubted.” Worship and doubt sit together in the same group, and Jesus commissions them all.
For those of you who have doubts about your faith, and for those of you who worship, and for those who do both, there is more than enough room in Christ’s community of love and hope.
In faith and in doubt, oil or no oil, awake or asleep, living or dead God comes. The door is opened.
To excavate the hope from the parable means stepping back and taking a wider perspective. It involves moving beyond the simple dichotomy of those with enough oil and those without and considering the compassion and love of God revealed in the life of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ life, poured out for us, overflows into ours.
(Pour water until the glass overflows. "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.")
For in the end, regardless of how we perceive the glass, God, who pours himself into us and pours his life out for us, gives us hope beyond measure.
Half full or half empty, in faith and in doubt, oil or no oil, awake or asleep, living or dead God comes. The door is opened.
(Silence)
But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who long for your saving help always say, “The Lord is great!” (Psalm 70:4)
What one thing might you take away? What might God be saying to you? Who will you discuss your insight with?
