Twenty Sixth Sunday After Pentecost - Sandy Webb, Seminarian - 11/9/2008

In the name of the One, Holy, and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

I have yet to see my first Salvation Army Christmas Kettle of 2008, but as I read today’s lesson from Matthew, I cannot help but think of their slogan: “Sharing is Caring.” Jesus certainly approves of sharing, and every kindergartener knows that sharing generates good will, civility, and kindness in a way that refusing to share does not.

God’s most intimate desire is that everything in creation will be in right relationship with everything else. Sharing promotes that good order.

This sermon was a struggle. I could have written something about preparedness, joining the chorus of preachers who admonish Christians to get ready for Christ’s return. Yet,something else in the text has caught my attention. Something else just doesn’t make sense. Let’s think about the story again:

Ten bridesmaids prepare for a wedding. They’re probably twelve to fifteen years old. They’re smiling and laughing as they fuss over all of the little details. Their hair is just so, their flowers masterfully arranged, their dresses perfectly aligned. The bridegroom’s delay gives them a chance for some more carrying on before they welcome the guest of honor. Their wait becomes a slumber party, and they nod off amidst all of the merriment, wide smiles on their faces, new friends on their minds. Anyone
who has attended a youth group lock-in knows what I mean. It’s quite a day.

When the bridegroom actually arrives, the story becomes far less idyllic. Five of the bridesmaids reach into their pockets, pull out flasks of oil, and refill their flickering lamps. The other five reach into empty pockets, and realize that they have a problem. Sheepishly, they ask their new friends to share what they have. Selfishly, their friends decline. Surely there would be a few drops of oil to
spare, especially with the bridegroom so close at hand. Yet, seeing that oil is scarce, the amply resourced bridesmaids hold tight to what they have for fear of running out.

Shockingly, Jesus seems to celebrate this behavior. The greedy bridesmaids are described as wise. The less fortunate fools find themselves out on the street, having been denied by the bridegroom they set out to honor.

In praising parsimony, Jesus leaves the parable open to a number of problematic interpretations. We could conclude that Jesus wants us to protect our own futures by jealously guarding all of our resources. We could conclude that Jesus wants us to tell the less fortunate that they must fend for themselves. We could even conclude, amidst our energy crisis, that Jesus doesn’t want us to run out of oil! Tempting and timely as those interpretations may be on the Sunday after Election Day, they
are not Jesus’ message.

To accept these literal interpretations is to deny the second Great Commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”1 To accept these literal interpretations is to deny Matthew’s famous ending of this very same chapter: “Truly I tell you, just as you did not [feed, welcome, clothe or visit]one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

Perhaps some insight into Jesus’ meaning can be found in his tricky last line: “Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Many translations suggest that “keep watch” would be a better rendering. Lifeguards keep watch at lakes. Soldiers keep watch at forts. “Keeping watch” involves more than consciousness. “Keeping watch” implies vigilance, protection, and stewardship. “Keep watch, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

In the next chapter of Matthew, Jesus is in Gethsemane before his arrest. He uses the same phrase again, asking Peter, James and John to “keep watch” with him. In his darkest hour, Jesus begs for the faithfulness and companionship of his closest disciples, and rebukes them when they fail to provide it. The bridesmaids also fail. Each thinks only of herself; not one keeps watch.

Do you suppose that the wedding is really all that joyous? The groom is grieved to the point of denying any knowledge of half the bridal party. How much could he celebrate amidst that pain? Could the remaining bridesmaids party hearty, knowing that they did not even try to prevent their friends’ suffering? Aren’t the guests burdened by the sight of five empty chairs at the head table, each one testifying to disorder in the world, and brokenness in relationship?

At a deep and profound level, something is missing. The celebration is incomplete. The world is in a state of disorder. This is no reward. Five bridesmaids had a problem, but all ten suffer in their own way because relationships were broken. Keeping watch involves sharing our burdens as well as our resources.

Jesus has not changed his mind on issues of selflessness, charity, and love. We are not permitted to look away from the poverty and loneliness in this hurting and broken world. Selfishness and complacency amidst all of the suffering that surrounds us can only be described as sin.

In the epic election season just ended, I have learned more than I ever cared to know about “Joe the Plumber” on one side, and about “Joe from Scranton” on the other. However, in an election in which religion played an undeniable role, I have heard precious little about “Joe from Nazareth,” and more specifically about his baby boy, sent to redeem this broken world.

What if the day and hour of Christ’s return had come sometime between the Iowa Caucuses and last Tuesday? What if the day and hour of Christ’s return comes sometime between now and coffee hour? Would Christ find the world in good order? Would Christ find us keeping watch?

These are the questions that we must always keep at the front of our minds. We cannot afford to take a hiatus. We cannot afford even an hour, even a minute, even a second. Jesus tells us that we must always keep watch. Always, for we know neither the day nor the hour.

Some of the parables in Matthew refer to the outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, but this one does not. This story just ends. The foolish bridesmaids find their way home, and hopefully learn an important lesson about preparedness. The greedy bridesmaids also find their way home, learning instead a lesson about charity. Both live to see another day, and both will be given
another chance to get it right.

God gives us plenty of chances as well. God became flesh in Jesus Christ for the express purpose of restoring right relationship, but after two thousand years, we keep getting it wrong. Every day, we have dozens of opportunities to help restore right relationship in the world. While we avail ourselves of many such opportunities, we let many others pass us by. Like the bridesmaids, we often fail to
keep watch.

The kingdom of heaven is promised to us collectively, not individually. We cannot enjoy the fullness of God’s promise until everyone is able to enjoy it together. None can celebrate while any are suffering.

Maybe this is a sermon about preparedness after all. Christ will come again, and the whole creation needs to be ready. Jesus charges us to keep watch by preparing ourselves, and by packing a few extra provisions to share when our sisters and brothers come up short. By both preparing and sharing, we help restore right relationships on earth, and help bring about the kingdom of heaven.

Amen.