If you were around in December of 1999, you might remember the collective angst we shared about Y2K. Not only was the world moving into another century, but we were also crossing into another millennia. Specific concerns centered around technology. How were information systems going to manage years starting in 20 versus 19? Would all digital-based services just stop – communication, banking, entertainment? I knew a young woman who was so concerned that she talked to her priest, convinced that this was a sign of the end times. He assured her that whatever happened, worrying about it wouldn’t help and that God would be in the midst of it. As we know, engineers built this date eventuality into their code, and all was well.
The Bible is full of the stories of God’s people anxiously awaiting the future and their place in it, like the Thessalonians in the Epistle assigned for today. With the anticipation of the unknown comes unsettling emotions, including apprehension and fear. In the years following Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, the Christian community in Thessalonica spread his Good News and formed strong bonds in the face of persecution, sharing their resources freely. At the same time, the Thessalonians were troubled by Christ’s delay in returning to earth when God would sweep all creation in a Divine embrace, the Parousia in ancient Greek. After all, Jesus’ disciples assured his followers that they would see Jesus again in their lifetimes. So, when their friends and family members started dying with no Jesus in sight, the Thessalonians were understandably confused. When was this Parousia going to happen? Would they even see it? And what would happen to everyone who died, maybe including even them, before Jesus returned?
Paul, also expectantly awaiting Jesus’ reappearance, seeks to calm the Thessalonians and writes “We believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died.” Relax, Paul says, those who are living at the time of the Jesus’ return will join those who have gone before and are already with Christ. Of course, Paul expands on this thought, as Paul often does, and in trying to be helpful, lays out a whole last days scenario that’s been the subject of countless books and movies. Finally, Paul says, “do not grieve as others do who have no hope and encourage one another.”
Still, waiting is difficult, especially when it involves a change, a move into the unknown. Think back to when you’ve had to wait for something that has the potential to alter your life – the arrival of a baby, a move to a new place, a new role at work, or medical test results. Feelings may veer from anticipation to anxiety. Sometimes, adulting is just exhausting, which is where Jesus meets us in today’s parable from Matthew’s gospel, written some 25 years after Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians.
If the Thessalonians had been watching the timeline to Jesus’ second coming with increasing concern, imagine how Matthew’s audience must have felt. Nothing much has changed for this new Jesus movement. Rome is still in control of Israel, and, in fact, has destroyed the temple in which they worshipped. And Jesus still hasn’t come back to make all things new. Matthew, like Paul, wants to reassure Jesus’ followers and includes in his Gospel a story about waiting.
New Testament professor Amy-Jill Levine suggests this parable should be called The Woefully Delayed Groom rather than the parable of the Wise and Foolish Bridesmaids. The Greek word for the ten women is the same as that used for Jesus’ mother Mary, variously translated as maidens or virgins, so we’re talking about very young women. Scholars have conflicting ideas about first century Jewish wedding customs, but parables are never intended to be taken literally anyway. They disturb us, provoke discussion, and prompt us to reexamine our perspectives. This parable is traditionally viewed as an allegory, designed to teach a single truth by connecting a series of metaphors. Jesus is the bridegroom; the women are the church, and the lamps they’ve brought to guide them to the wedding feast represent the faith of Jesus’ followers. So, the narrative goes, be patient, keep your lamps burning in faith, and you’ll meet Jesus in the afterlife. If you don’t prepare, you’ll be caught looking for oil of devotion in the middle night, the doors to the heavenly party will be locked, and you’ll be “left behind.” Pretty straightforward…But is it?
As we’ve seen in other parables, Jesus begins this one with the phrase “the kingdom of heaven is like,” or “can be compared to.” In what ways is the kingdom of heaven like this and in what ways is it different? If we look for ourselves in the story, perhaps we’ll learn how to anticipate and plan for the future as a faith community. I don’t know about you, but I’ve found myself in each one of the characters at one time or another. First, all ten young women fall asleep while waiting for the bridegroom, so constant vigilance and insomnia don’t seem to be heavenly requirements.
Maybe we’re like the five ones whose lamps are burning out. Sometimes life’s challenges prevent us from seeing God’s presence. Our beacons of faith sputter and cast a faint glow on the path forward. We desperately search inspirational books and social media posts trying to find the clarity we had, instead of believing that God waits to meet us, even in our despair and doubt.
Or maybe we’re like the five who have plenty – oil, faith, possessions, stability, privilege, but fear losing all those things. We zealously guard our precious resources refusing to share them with those in spiritual or physical need, instead of recognizing that God is the source of everything we have.
Are we the bridegroom? Maybe we feel hurt when our loved ones don’t live up to our expectations. We forget that about the times we’ve let people down, like the tardy groom arriving well after the bridal party has gone to sleep. Our unforgiving perceptions of others can separate us. We lock the doors to our hearts to protect them from future wounds, instead of remembering that God welcomes everyone, even those, like us, who’ve made mistakes.
Perhaps Jesus is describing how God wants us to treat each other with hope and humility as we longingly await Jesus’ return. “Keep awake” Jesus says at the end of his story “for you know neither the day nor the hour” when God will appear. Though we don’t know when Jesus will come at the end of the age, we can experience God sightings every day, if we look for them. This parable may be more about trust than fear, about the abundance of God’s gifts rather than their scarcity, about reconciliation rather than judgement.
In our Old Testament reading, God’s servant Joshua gathers all the Israelites together in the land to which God delivered them. Reminding them of Yahweh’s saving grace, Joshua tells the Israelites they must decide which God they will worship, famously saying “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” The Psalmist echoes Joshua’s sentiment, saying, “We will recount to generations to come the praiseworthy deeds and the power of the Lord, and the wonderful works he has done.”
This is the way we keep our Christ lights burning, even when shadows fall and struggles trouble us. We share with each other - our families, friends, and neighbors - how the Spirit is moving through our lives, and we show love as Jesus taught, especially with those whom the world has forgotten. We awaken each other to the vastness of God’s compassion as we wait, forever in beloved community with those who were, are, and yet to come, for Jesus to fulfill creation’s Divine restoration.
