Waiting for a Just Kin-Dom
Matthew 25:1-13
The gospel writer Matthew’s narration of Jesus’ birth, ministry, death, and resurrection, puts the Roman Empire and the religious elites of his day on notice that God is about to do a new thing. By this 25th chapter, Jesus has become embroiled in conflict with the religious establishment and they in turn are plotting his arrest and eventual execution. In response to their opposition, Jesus teaches in parables. The parable of the ten virgins is the eighteenth of the twenty parables Jesus tells in Matthew’s gospel about the coming of and establishment of God’s kin-dom.
The kin-dom of heaven will be like this, Jesus says: There are ten bridesmaids on their way to greet the bridegroom. They each take lamps with them to light the way for the bridegroom’s arrival. Five, we are told, are “foolish” and the other five are “wise.” They are distinguished as such because the “wise” bridesmaids take extra oil with them and the “foolish” do not.
If you are like me, you are probably starting to wonder: “How did the “wise” bridesmaids know to bring extra oil? Was there a “PS” line on the invitation that said, “Don’t forget to bring extra oil” that the others missed or didn’t heed? Or could it be that the “wise” bridesmaids were from a family with wealth and connections and the foolish were not? After all, money talks and all it takes is knowing the right people and paying the right price to be given access to people and places and information not privy to ordinary people. Or maybe, just maybe the “wise” bridesmaids are your type A personalities who believe in over preparedness because you just don’t know what will happen. Whereas, the “foolish” bridesmaids are your live in the moment, deal with things as they arise kind of girls because no amount of planning can prepare you for life’s unexpected twists and turns.
With their lamps in tow, the bridesmaids make their way to meet the bridegroom. For some unknown reason, the bridegroom is delayed and does not arrive. Ticketed out from having to entertain themselves longer than they expected, the ladies become drowsy and fall asleep. By about midnight, right when they were getting their good sleep, they are awakened by a loud shout announcing, “Look the bridegroom is coming!” I imagine they are startled by the sound. They rub their eyes, some wipe drool from around their mouth, stand up, fix their dresses, and take their places to receive the bridegroom. As they are standing in formation, the “foolish” bridesmaids notice their lamps are pretty dim. They turn to their “wise” sisters, asking for help, for them to share some of their extra oil, but the “wise” bridesmaids refuse. The foolish ones decide to go in search of some oil (in the middle of the night). When they return, the doors to the wedding banquet are locked; even more devastating, when they bang on the door and ask to be admitted, the bridegroom declares, “I do not know you.”
Each gospel writer simultaneously tells Jesus’ story while revealing much about a gospel community that existed years later. The community of Matthew, who wrote these words down about 50 years after the events of the gospel took place, seems to be struggling with several issues simultaneously, and all their concerns are on display in this parable. First, there is that family fight that has caused great division between those who see God’s revelation in Jesus and those who do not. The second concern is the delay of Jesus’ return. The early church was confident that Jesus would come in power and judgment to make everything right, and that he would do it soon, in their lifetime, but from the ways things were going, they were getting antsy waiting. The final but probably most traumatic concern was the destruction of the temple, looted and demolished by the Roman military in the summer of the year 70 CE. These tragic losses and disappointments taken together tell us that Matthew’s community, the community where this gospel had its birth, was in pain. They were suffering.
The parable speaks to the realities facing Matthew’s community. Its concluding words, is like like hearing the description of a wedding from someone who’s been through a traumatic divorce. Their pain, inevitably, comes through—even years later, even if they’re sure it was for the best. Pain demands to be felt.
They were dealing with the pain of their new reality while also trying to remain hopeful that things will change, as Jesus would soon return to make things right. Only Jesus did not return immediately. And here we are, two thousand years later, still waiting—waiting for all black lives to matter on earth as it is in God’s kin-dom, waiting for women’s bodies to be honored and respected wherever they occupy space, waiting for black and brown bodies to no longer be funneled through the prison industrial complex, waiting for an even distribution of the world’s wealth and resources so that percent of the world is no longer living in dire poverty, waiting for humanity to be better stewards of this one planet we have been gifted for dwelling, waiting for the cure of all manner of illnesses and diseases. Waiting.
Matthew’s community is waiting for Jesus’ Just kin-dom. A kin-dom ushered in like a joyful feast—a feast celebrating love, and union, and unity and justice. A feast that has bridesmaids, people whose work is to welcome the bridegroom. Everyone expects the bridegroom to come soon—everyone! He wouldn’t be late to his own wedding party, would he?! Well, he is, which no one expects. And for which no explanation is given. When he finally shows up, the bridesmaids without extra oil ask for some from those who do have it, and they refuse.
“There won’t be enough for us if we give you some” is hardly an example of Christian sharing. How many times in Matthew’s gospel alone does Jesus not only encourage sharing, but hold up those who he says are closer to the kingdom of God than anyone? How many moments in this gospel actually push against the stinginess of the “wise” bridesmaids? If someone wants your tunic, give them your coat as well. Let your light shine before all, so that they will give glory to God in heaven. Don’t store up treasures on earth. Ask and it will be given to you. Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward. The feeding of the five thousand with five loaves and two fish. The widow, with her two coins. I could go on showing how Jesus’ own words and actions in Matthew’s gospel push against the words of judgment in this parable. And in the verses that follow this text, we read a parable whose memorable words include, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” Why can’t we add… “I was in the dark, and you gave me your light?”
The “wise” bridesmaids refuse to share their oil. They instead tell their sisters to go to the dealers and buy some for themselves, knowing perfectly well that oil dealers go home at six, if not four, in the afternoon. And so the “foolish” bridesmaids leave, carrying with them the hurt unleashed on them by those who should have extended them grace. Even if the “wise” bridesmaids didn’t want to share their oil, they certainly could have shared their light. The cost to them would have been nothing. They would have lost nothing. And all would have gone, joyfully dancing, into the feast.
As for this bridegroom, he just doesn’t sound like Jesus to me. He’s dressed up in Jesus’ clothes, being called “the bridegroom” and all. But he sounds nothing like the Jesus I know. The Jesus I know proclaims good news to those who have been called everything but a child of God. The Jesus I know pronounces blessings upon the poor in Spirit, those who mourn, those who are meek, those who hunger and thirst for justice, those who are merciful, those who are pure in heart, those who are peacemakers, those who are persecuted for working, by the power of the Spirit, towards a more just world. The Jesus I know teaches about forgiveness. The Jesus I know reveals the depth and breadth of God’s all encompassing grace.
This bridegroom, he sounds more like the pain-filled community of Matthew, kicked out of the synagogues, turning on those who have hurt them with identical words of rejection. “I don’t know you.” Their reaction is normal. It’s human. When we have been hurt, especially by our family and the powers that be, we want to retaliate. We want them to hurt as much as we are hurting, if not more. It’s perfectly normal. Yet, the power of God’s Spirit at work in us directs us to a more excellent way—the way of grace embodied in Christ.
I once heard someone say, “The world God loves is the world God sees in God’s only begotten Son.” By grace, through faith, we too experience the world God loves and sees by looking to Jesus. And by the power of the Holy Spirit at work in our lives, we continue Christ’s work of creating communities and spaces that include rather than exclude and that love rather than judge, until Christ comes again, establishing a new heaven and new earth where all can feast at his divine banquet.
Reverend Chenda Innis Lee has been in pastoral ministry for over ten years. A gifted preacher and teacher, she has served as an associate and senior pastor of churches in the northern Virginia region. Her ministry is deeply influenced by Jesus’ message of inclusion for those on the margins of society and a desire for all God’s people to live fully and freely in the abundance of God’s grace. A native of Liberia, West Africa, she came to the United States when she was sixteen, after surviving Liberia’s civil war. She and her husband, Asa, met during their time at Wesley Theological Seminary. They are stewards of four spirited daughters—Akeemah, Jaanaiya, Cydah, and Camaini.