RVCC Pastor's Sermon

Sermon - November 9, 2008

“The Parable of Readiness”

By Rev. Nancy Foran
Matthew 25:1-13

Once upon a time long long ago there were ten bridesmaids – or young girls – or virgins – depending on your perspective about these things. But whoever you imagine them to be, they were all ready for the wedding. The hair stylist had been in that afternoon, and each one of them had baby’s breath woven into their locks which had been French braided and then swept up on top of their heads, held in place by numerous hairpins and vast quantities of mousse and hairspray.

Their nails had been manicured and pedicured, and the cosmetologist had put the finishing touches on their make up – eye liner and shadow, mascara, foundation, blush, and a touch of lipstick. They had slipped on their floor length bridesmaids’ dresses – forest green with a touch of autumnal orange, spaghetti straps and a flattering waistline – and of course there were matching shoes with pointy toes and stiletto heels.

All ten of them had oil in their lamps, and they were set to go. And so they eagerly awaited the high sign that the bridegroom was approaching. That was the moment they were all eagerly anticipating. Then their torches would be lit, and the traditional procession to claim the bride would begin. With surely only moments to spare until that climactic time, all ten of them went ahead and lit their lamps anyway, and their shadows danced and flickered on the courtyard walls.

The glitch, of course, came when the bridegroom got delayed. We do not know how delayed, but he failed to show up on schedule. The minutes and then hours dragged on – and on – and on. The girls got bored sitting around and waiting. They talked and played cards and had a champagne toast.

They checked their baby’s breath in the bathroom mirror and carefully made sure that the nail polish on their fingers did not get chipped. They made shadow pictures on the courtyard walls – dogs and camels and rabbits with long ears. They took turns sleeping as one by one the oil lamps sputtered and coughed and the little flames flickered and eventually just went out.

It was then that they heard a shout and a cry and the messenger’s words” “The bridegroom. He’s on his way – finally! At long last, he’s coming.”

The ten bridesmaids awoke with a start and for a moment let their eyes get accustomed in the dark. Then, gasping at the urgency of the situation, they began groping to check their hair while slipping their stiletto heels back on. The lamps flickered on again – one, two, three, four, five.

Bridesmaids’ ran for the bathroom to check their make up and nails and to adjust the spaghetti straps on their gowns. Can I borrow your lamp? Mine seems to have gone out. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

I need to check my nails too. I can’t see without light. Where did you get more oil? Can I have some? You must share it with me. I’m a bridesmaid. I need some too. How can I lead the way to the wedding without any light? No – don’t leave us here. It isn’t fair.

And the light from five lamps led the way for the bridegroom to claim his bride, and the courtyard door was shut and locked, leaving behind the other bridesmaids or young girls or virgins depending on your perspective on these things, mascara running down their cheeks mixing with their tears.

The coming of God will be like that, Jesus told the peasants, scribes, and Pharisees who listened to him preach. The arrival of the Messiah will be like a fig tree blossoming in the spring as a sign that summer is near. It will be like a master landowner who returns home from a long time away. It will be like bridesmaids awaiting a bridegroom, so that the party can begin. And you better be ready!

That is what we call apocalypticism – a big word that basically means a deep and abiding concern about the end times, or, perhaps more precisely, about the end of the times as we know them. Many Biblical scholars believe that Jesus was an apocalyptic – someone who believed fervently that he was living at the end of the age and who was of the impassioned opinion that all of us could – and should – expect that a new day would soon be dawning.

The Gospel of Matthew is in fact filled with rhetoric from just that apocalyptic perspective. For example, prior to the string of parables including the one we have read today that point to the coming of the Kingdom of God is a long and impassioned speech that Jesus gives on the Mount of Olives about the imminent end of the world and all the signs that point to it. Jesus also makes it abundant clear that no one – including apparently himself – has any real clue as to when all this will take place.

As Scott Hoezee wrote: “Despite the cottage industry that has arisen around making apocalyptic predictions, Jesus says that all such speculation and calculation is wrong. And since Jesus himself indicates that even he doesn't know the date or time, it's a cinch that no one will calculate that date based on Jesus' words.” There will be no missing it when it happens, but we don’t exactly know when that will be. So you better be ready!

That is the point of the parable, I think. As Marcus Curnow wrote, “it’s not really a story about virgins, or weddings, or lamps and flat batteries, or falling asleep. It’s not even about high or low intelligence; and it isn’t about not sharing what you have! It’s a story about choices. Jesus is telling a story about making choices.” And the choice, of course, is whether to be ready – or not. Now the word that Matthew uses at the end of the parable when Jesus says to watch is a word that means to "wake up" from slumber, to "arise" from lethargy and waiting, even to "rise from the dead". Interestingly enough, the only other time that the Jesus uses this word "watch" outside of this part of Matthew’s gospel is in the Garden of Gethsemane when he asks the three disciples that he has taken with him: “watch with me; don't fall asleep! Wake up, could you not watch with me? Don't fall asleep at the wheel: watch!”

The word is a kind of shorthand for “get up, and be about what you are supposed to be about". It is kind of like "get up, let's get going, let your behavior today be of the kind that you would not be ashamed to be found doing by your lord, whether he is there with you but you just can't see him or he is coming to ask for an account of your labors".

What Matthew is seems to be telling us is that what happens now – today – on this earth is what is important. Whether some aspect of the Kingdom of God is in the future or not, from Mathew’s perspective it is most certainly in the present, in the here and now.

That message was a fundamental one for Matthew to get across to his first readers – and to us these millennia later. Because for first century apocalyptics – like Jesus himself and certainly many in the early Christian church - the bridegroom was late, the end of the age was delayed. And for the church today? Well, it’s been a long time for us too – and sometimes that Gospel message of compassion, forgiveness, justice, and peace-making seems crazier – and riskier - than ever.

I mean, how are you supposed to love when those who need loving are so often unlovable – and untouchable? How are you supposed to forgive in a world of terror? How can you be just when the economics of justice are so bound to the distribution of resources and to the interplay between scarcity and abundance, fear and trust? How do you make peace when a war lingers on two fronts?

And yet, Jesus challenges us to be ready, to watch, to be prepared - and to have an oil can within reach. “Having some extra oil, being prepared for the delay, may mean no more than that we just keep plugging away for the kingdom. It may mean no more than simple acts of compassion and kindness,” Scott Hoezee reminds us.

In short, to be ready, to be prepared is to learn to live – day in and day out – as if you were in the kingdom of God, and the amazing thing is that when you do, all of a sudden, you are not just learning to live in the kingdom, you are in fact living in the kingdom. Surely the kingdom of God is among us when we are living the Gospel of Jesus.

This parable then is the parable of readiness. It is the parable of making choices, wise choices, compassionate choices, each and every day, whether we think God is watching us or not, whether we believe that Jesus will return or not, whether we believe that we have been given the tools to usher in the kingdom right now or whether it is only some future event. The parable is about making choices – and understanding that every choice we make is a choice about the kingdom, is a choice about being wise in the eyes of God – or foolish in our misguided perspectives and priorities.

It is the parable of making choices all the while understanding that those choices have consequences and involve taking risks. After all, as I read this week in a poem entitled, “Free”: to laugh is to risk appearing the fool. To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach out for another is to risk involvement. To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self. To place your ideas, your dreams, before a crowd is to risk their loss. To love is to risk not being loved in return. To live is to risk dying. To hope is to risk despair. To try is to risk failure. But risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing.”

It is the parable of making choices, knowing that the choices we make do indeed have consequences because those founded on the message of Jesus will bring us more in line with the kingdom, the bridal procession, the party – and the others will leave us with our mascara mixing with tears in a locked and darkened courtyard.

Sermon - November 9, 2008

“The Parable of Readiness”

By Rev. Nancy Foran Matthew 25:1-13

By Rev. Nancy Foran
Matthew 25:1-13