In the End

Sermon

Many years ago a friend of mine gave me a T-shirt that read “Jesus is coming. Look busy.”

We are about to enter the strange world of Matthew 25, in which Jesus tells three different stories about the end times. The first is today’s parable; next week Lindsey will preach on the parable of the talents, and in two weeks Gregg will preach on the last judgment and the sheep and the goats. Phew!

So before we delve into the story of these wise and foolish bridesmaids, it might well behoove us to talk a little about this endtime stuff, and what we are to make of it, and what it meant to the gospel writers and what it might mean for us.

Remember that the first followers of Jesus, most of them, were raised in the Jewish tradition that held that God would send a messiah, an anointed one, an intermediary between the human and divine. That messiah would partner with God in completing God’s work and ushering in lasting change and a new era of God’s reign. In Jewish thought at the time, there was no sense that the messiah would die for the people’s sin. That is a thought that comes out of Christianity.

But the gospel writer Matthew and his audience believed that God would send a messiah to usher in God’s new age, and they believed that Jesus of Nazareth was that messiah. Since Matthew wrote after Jesus’ death and resurrection, Matthew and his audience believed that Jesus would return one day to continue the work of ushering in God’s reign. And Matthew, and in Matthew’s story Jesus, want the people to be ready.

Now here’s the first question we need to look at: why should the people be ready for the return of the bridegroom—in this case, Jesus the Messiah?

There has been an unfortunate take on this story, provided within the parable itself, that we need to be ready because if we aren’t we won’t get into heaven and we will go to hell. In other words, do the stuff God wants you to do and you will be rewarded by getting into heaven. Don’t do what God wants, and you will be punished and go to hell.

So… remember the Reformation? Remember what Martin Luther and all the reformers that followed him were arguing? If not, or if you need a refresher, here it is. There is nothing we can do to earn our way to heaven. Not one thing. What happens to us either after we die or when Jesus comes again—whichever comes first—is utterly, completely, and eternally up to God. There is no such thing as works righteousness. Rather, there is grace. It is the choice of our gracious God to include us in the new era or not.

Does that mean we can do whatever we want, be as selfish or greedy or mean or violent as we want with no consequence? Yes. And no. It’s a matter of faith.

So we Presbyterians live and move and have our being in the Reformed theological tradition, and one of the tenets of that is about faith. We have faith not to earn rewards, we believe in God not for the ultimate end of getting a harp and halo in the clouds, but we live out our faith as a response to the priceless gift of God’s love for us. All our good deeds (and that’s a shortcut) are a response to love.

Because really, if the only reason a person has faith, says all the right things, believes in God, tithes to the church and all that, is so that they get into heaven, isn’t that ultimately pretty selfish? I suppose it all depends on what you think heaven is and what you think hell is. I should preach on that someday, but not today.

Now everything I just said is all fine and good, but it does seem to negate the point of the parable, and indeed, everything that Jesus will say in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus, according to Matthew, is reminding everyone that someday the messiah will return to begin the work of ushering in God’s new era, and the people had better be ready because if they’re not, they will miss out.

So let’s consider this from another point of view. I hope you had a moment to read the note Debbie Glaze wrote about the anthem the choir just sang, Andre Thomas’s arrangement of the spiritual “Keep Your Lamps.” While the song was sung by enslaved people working on a chain gang, it was sung also as a reminder to stay vigilant. At some hour, as dusk fell or in the middle of the night or just before dawn, someone from the Underground Railroad might show up and you had to be ready to go. There was no dilly-dallying, no looking for oil for the torch. It was time to go, because freedom itself was at stake, and who wouldn’t want to be ready for freedom?

And, some interpreters of this parable have paid particular attention to the oil lamps, which really were not oil lamps but big torches – only those would give off enough light to help the bridegroom make his way home at night. Some say these oil lamps or torches are to be equated with good deeds, but we might be a little more general and say that the oil for the lamps or torches is really a reference to faithful and obedient discipleship. (Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins, p. 486.)

So then… as we live out our faith as disciples of Jesus the Messiah, we are encouraged to persist in our efforts because in doing so we will be prepared to partner with Jesus when God’s new reign begins. Maybe I should end there.

Actually, what I would like to do is to set aside the end of this parable and really focus on what it means to make sure we have oil, make sure we are living as disciples of Jesus. But what does that mean?

OK, let’s just admit that we know what that means. To follow Jesus means to live out all the things he taught, and he taught a lot—that’s why they called him rabbi, teacher.

Where to begin? With the scripture Jesus was raised on? With the words of the Shema? “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Or from the prophets, like these words from Micah: “What does the Lord require of you? To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.” Or the prophet Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Or do we heed his words from the sermon on the mount? “… when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

“Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and 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.” “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you….”

Let me tell you a story. When I first read it, it sounded too good to be true. But I verified it in a few different sources, and it gives me hope for another kind of world. The Roman Catholic patriarch in Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, has offered to take the place of all the children being held captive by Hamas so that peace can be restored in Gaza. (https://www.usccb.org/news/2023/jerusalem-cardinal-offers-himself-exchange-israeli-hostages#:~: )

Could you live out your faith in such a way? Is that what Jesus is calling us to?

Maybe, but let’s admit it, very, very few of us—maybe none of us in the sanctuary today—would live out our discipleship by offering our own lives for others.

Which makes me think of the five foolish bridesmaids. Now note throughout the parable that all ten bridesmaids have lamps, and all ten grow sleepy as they await the bridegroom. Five of them think ahead and have oil; five do not.

There have been plenty of times in my life when I have been found without oil, plenty of times I have missed opportunities to live out my faith, plenty of failures in practicing my discipleship. So I have some empathy for the five foolish bridesmaids.

The practical person in me just thinks, Why didn’t the other bridesmaids share their oil? Isn’t that a good gospel teaching? Aren’t we supposed to be generous with what we have, and help those who are less fortunate? Yes, yes, yes! But that’s not what Matthew is trying to teach here. Too bad.

I think Matthew might have gotten Jesus wrong here, but that’s a pretty arrogant thing for me to say. I’ll still say it. Because I think that even if those five bridesmaids were left out of the wedding celebration, that wasn’t the end of their story.

Because I majored in art history in college, I know all sorts of odd religious subjects that painters painted. One is what’s known as the “Harrowing of Hell,” based on one verse in scripture from the First Epistle of Peter, chapter three. It refers to an idea that between Good Friday and Easter, Jesus went into Hell to rescue all the souls that had gone there. There’s a famous fresco in Berea, Greece, which shows Jesus reaching into a sort of hole and bringing out Adam and Eve.

I bring this up because I believe that with Jesus, nothing is final, that there is hope for the five foolish bridesmaids the way that there is hope for you and me. Yes, we do what we can and sometimes we’re there cheering when the bridegroom arrives and sometimes we’re out looking for oil. My deepest hope is that that isn’t the last opportunity we have.
In closing, I share words from a great Presbyterian poet named J. Barrie Shepherd. It’s called Six Easter Questions. (The Christian Century, March 17, 2000)

So just suppose
for the sake of argument,
that there really was an actual hell,
would you be willing to go there,
forever,
in order to set free
someone you love, your child,
say, or maybe your unblessed mother?
And if so, if you did that,
would any kind of God be just
to keep you there?
Would not hell itself
by such an act, by such a love
once entering its fiery gates,
be crumbled into cindered ash
forever?

Or if not hell,
would such a love not,
in the end, dethrone a grim,
implacable God of Justice
and thus abolish,
once for all,
all thrones and dominions?

And if not…why?
And if not you…
Then who?

To the glory of God.