PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

Matthew 25:1-13                                                           THE  BRIDESMAIDS'  PARTY

Sermon November 9, 2008:  People's United Church of Christ, Dover, DE:  The Rev. Dan Griggs

 

          The lectionary lessons at the end of the church's devotional year are about Judgment Day.  Well, of course!  The lectionary tells the story of Jesus—we can pray through the gospel story anew each year:  Advent, "Jesus is coming"; Christmas, "Jesus is born"; Epiphany, "Jesus begins his ministry"; Lent, "Jesus prepares for the cross"; Easter, "Jesus is raised from the dead"; Pentecost, "Jesus sends the church into the world";[1] and now we come to the last four weeks, and they're about Judgment Day:  it makes sense in the Christian story.  The irony is that our holiday Thanksgiving falls near the end of all these scripture lessons about judgment; so we're caught between two different worlds—the harvest festival and the End of the world.  We'll get to Thanksgiving.  Today the Gospel presents to us a question of major importance for our living:  Is there anything at stake in your choice to be a Christian?  That's what this parable of the ten bridesmaids is about. 

 

          Let's begin by indulging the story:  it's about a party.  It's sort of like a wedding shower—the men quit the place and the women gather for punch and games and gifts.  But Jesus is also talking about the church:  turn on the lights, light the gas range, set the tables, let's have a fellowship dinner!  It's to be enjoyed.  He intends this to be a story that's really about the life of the church (that's us) in the world, "waiting for the bride-groom" at the End.  But while we're here, we have to answer this question:  How am I going to invest in this thing called "living"?  I have only so much resources.  After dealing with the job, and the doctor, and the cable company, and those pesky family issues, and finances—how am I going to invest here?  And besides, surely God didn't create such a beautiful world if we're not supposed to throw ourselves into it with passion and take care of business!  Jesus says that all ten of the brides-maids fell asleep waiting. 

          Have you felt the lull?  the drag as this present world groans on—this earth, this "party" called "life"?  "Sleep" in the parable is a reference to that slow "dying of the light."[2]  Our sleep is the drag of routine. 

          How many parents are watching an adult child sleep-walking through the world?  And how many of us in the middle of our lives wonder if there will ever be any passionate cause again?  any insight?  Oh, there's no feeling of fear, but neither is there much alertness.  A lot of people live in a land of forgetfulness—a kind of fantasyland that helps us get through it all. 

          Last month when the federal government finally got serious about addressing this present economic pain, one of the first things anybody said was, "We can talk later about what caused this and who's to blame:  right now we need to do something."  And we rode off in all directions at once, because nobody took the responsibility in a way that was helpful.  When the media analysts began analyzing it, they concluded that "there's enough blame to go around":  that's not very helpful either.  Things happen because somebody did something:  find out who and what, and then you can fix it. 

          Remember back in the early 1990's when the rival war-lords had control of Somalia, and all the television news was about the starvation, suffering and brutality—and why doesn't somebody do something?  And then, why doesn't America send in the Marines and fix it?  And so we did; and that led to the tragedy of two dozen American military personnel getting killed and dragged through the streets of Mogadishu.  And then, did the television news readers take any responsibility for pushing us into it?  We all seem to have forgotten that it was our choice to go there—with high-minded intentions, for sure; but decisions have consequences.  It's more comfortable to go numb. 

          In this parable of the brides-maids, they all fall asleep and forget that they're waiting for the bride-groom.  Is there anything at stake in our choices? 

 

          A shout rings down the street, "Here comes the bride-groom!  Get up and greet him!"  In an ancient Palestinian wedding the groom led a parade through the streets, followed by a three-day celebration; so this call means that the real party is about to begin.  The ten brides-maids begin moving around, but they're thrown into turmoil, because, for the purposes of Jesus' parable, this is Judgment Day.  Interesting, isn't it, that the End of the World is depicted not as a conflagration but a party—"the marriage supper of the Lamb," it's called in the Book of Revelation.  It sounds like rising up out of a stupor to enjoy the celebration, but they're confused. 

          You know, I don't think we believe much in any kind of Judgment Day anymore:  not really.  By that I mean, somehow it seems we've decided that there's nothing at stake in our living, beyond here, now.  What's at stake when people nowadays have an extra-marital affair?  Maybe a little embarrassment.  After all, isn't everybody divorced?  Who is really serious anymore about breaking a promise to God "until death us do part," or the promises spoken to the beloved? 

          Or is there anything at stake in spreading rumors, gossip and lies about other people?  Everybody knows that the more people a story goes through the less accurate it is, and still we love a good story about somebody.  A woman who hosts a radio talk show in California started the rumor last year that Barack Obama is a Muslim, and twenty years from now there will be people who tell their grandchildren that he was our first Muslim President:  he's a Christian, formed by Christian teaching in our own denomination.  But gossip interrupts the truth.  What happened to Jesus' words, "let your yes be yes, and your no be no; anything more than that is demonic"?[3]  What's at stake here in your soul?  This is why I said that I doubt we believe very much in Judgment Day anymore:  nothing seems to be at stake in our living. 

          Jesus says that the brides-maids wake up and light their lamps, and five of them discover that they're out of oil:  their lamps are burning very low.  What's Jesus talking about?  The Gospel of Matthew was written about 85 A.D., fifteen years after the Jerusalem temple had been destroyed, after the Christians from Jerusalem had scattered.  The first generation of Christians were mostly dead by now, and the second generation were getting older; and still the Son of Man had not returned.  The Christians Matthew was writing to had fallen into a deep disillusionment:  They were moral people, but had they believed a lie?  Was all this stuff about managers and wise men, miracles and beatitudes, death resurrection and return—was it all for nothing?  They had grown lax, careless in their souls.  Might that be our problem, too?  It would certainly seem so, if I'm right in saying that so many of us are convinced that there's nothing really at stake in our choice to be Christians. 

 

          But if that's what we believe, we're mistaken.  There really is something at stake in our living:  our souls are at stake.  It doesn't matter if you believe in hell or not; your life is on the line in this thing called Christian faith. 

Your character is at stake:  whether you're a true human being or a self-indulgent knave—character.  Your humanity is at stake:  whether you're awake or sleep-walking through your days and weeks and years:  your humanity.  Your spirit is at stake:  like the woman at the well who put Jesus off by talking religion, "Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet," when Jesus was trying to help her see who she really is;[4] or like the rich young man who wanted Jesus to give him a list of rules to get him into the kingdom of heaven, talking religion, when Jesus was trying to break him free of his economic bondage to his possessions.[5]  Our spirit is at stake. 

          The parable of the brides-maids party says that people get lulled into thinking there's nothing else to be, nothing more to change, no God who really judges my heart and my deeds.  We've been tricked into thinking that there's nothing at stake in our living.  Life is a television with 500 channels, and we can take a little from each, but it has no real significance.

          And the oil in our lamp burns low.  We're in no hurry to buy more oil, because God seems to be a push-over.  And all the time God has been working to bring us to real living.

 

          Before midnight comes and the moon and the stars disappear, before the stores close for you, is there something you need to take care of?  Is there a humanity you want to claim?  Is there something at stake in your choice to be a Christian?

AMEN