[Jesus said to his disciples:] “Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten young women took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those young women got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet, and the door was shut. Later the other young women came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.
Matthew 25:1-13
My sermon from the 24th Sunday after Pentecost (November 8, 2026) on Matthew 25:1-13.
80 miles to the north and west lies what remains of the oldest known church in the world. In the 1930s, archaeologists from Yale University headed into the Syrian desert to excavate the ancient city of Dura-Europos. Dura-Europos was a major trading hub for the Roman Empire that needed to expand its fortifications around the year 255 CE. The Persians were on their way and so the city made its walls thicker and taller. This work, however, buried the buildings next to the wall – and one of them happened to be a house converted into a church. The expansion plan didn’t work and the city was destroyed the following year. But those buildings covered by all that dirt survived. The church wasn’t very large and nothing on the outside made it appear to be anything special. Yet inside its walls was a small baptismal room with walls painted with scenes from Jesus’ life. The artistry of the paintings isn’t very good but the vibrant shades of reds, yellows, blues, and greens made these stories come to life for those living 200 years after the Cross and Resurrection. When the community gathered with water and prayers to welcome someone new into the body of Christ, the art on the walls showed how they were connected to God’s story forever. And one of the biggest paintings in that space showed women holding large candles which might be a direct reference to the story Jesus told in today’s reading from the gospel according to Matthew.
Now the parable Jesus shared came near the end of his public ministry. He had, for three years, traveled throughout the ancient near east to preach, teach, and heal. When it came time to celebrate the festival of Passover, Jesus and his friends joined thousands of pilgrims in the city Jerusalem. His entrance into that place, though, was a bit different since he acted like a king – inviting his friends to wave palm branches in the air while he rode through the streets on a donkey. Jesus spent his days preaching in the Holy Temple and sharing meals with anyone who invited him to their table. Not everyone was thrilled with what Jesus was up to since they knew disruptions to the status quo could bring about the city’s destruction. Those in power did what they could to make Jesus go away. Jesus, though, kept talking and before his arrest and trial, he bookended his ministry with a long sermon filled with all kinds of stories. Jesus used real life situations to make his words relatable. But he also made sure that parts of his story seem a little weird. An awkward behavior, an unlikely situation, or an unexpected hero was the thing that would make Jesus’ words stand out. And when we notice the part that doesn’t fit, we discover God’s word for us.
But noticing the weird is hard since we’re living 2000 years after Jesus’ journey from Galilee to Jerusalem. The experience of ancient farmers, townspeople, slaves, faithful, and doubters doesn’t always match our own. Weddings, in Jesus’ day, were similar to our own since they required a lot of planning, people, and money to pull off. Yet the rituals and events that made up an ancient wedding aren’t entirely clear. From what we can tell, the party – rather than any specific ceremony – mattered the most. And it was expected for the food, drink, and fun to last seven days long. At some point during the festivities a special meeting between the bridegroom and the bride’s parents would take place to finalize the financial resources each side would bring to the marriage. And while these terms were mostly figured out when the couple was first engaged, once the wine started to flow, everyone tried to get a better deal. The meeting would go long and when it was over, the bridegroom would be escorted to the next event by a procession of women lighting the way. The details that made up this meeting and procession, however, are unknown so we’re not entirely sure what the weird might be. It might be the lamps they carried, the fact they waited outside, or that a store was open in the middle of the night for them to buy some oil. We don’t know what we don’t know which can make it difficult to interpret what Jesus said. But when we find ourselves not fully understanding the context of his words, there’s one other thing we can do to help us listen and learn. We can use our spiritual imagination to enter the story and notice the one thing the women do the most – they wait. And waiting, even when it’s our job, can be pretty annoying. We want life to fit our schedule rather than needing to change our life for it to fit everything else. There is the kind of waiting that is a little fun like when we’re counting down the minutes to an amazing first date or when we’re busy wondering what Santa’s going to bring us on Christmas. But there’s also the other waiting filled with all our worries, anxieties, and fears. Those are the moments when our days slow down and our nights seem to go on way too long. Waiting when we’re busy holding unanswered prayers, dashed hopes, and brokens dreams is the kind of thing we’d do anything to avoid. The waiting we do can make it seem as if we have to live our life entirely on our own. And so it’s not surprising there are seasons when our faith feels like it has closed its eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Jesus, I think, does give us the space to ponder what it means to be like those wise or foolish young women. But he also might be reminding us how God knows what it’s like to wait. As much as we would like God to work on our schedule, God’s plan isn’t entirely our own. God does what God will do but that doesn’t mean God is waiting to make love real in our lives and in our world. When we encounter kindness, patience, compassion, and mercy, we’re meeting a God who doesn’t wait for us to be perfect before showing what love can do. The kingdom of God isn’t waiting for us to get everything right before God shows up in our lives. Rather, God’s light keeps shining even if our hearts and our souls feel empty and cool. I know it’s often hard to believe that since so much of our life and our story feels unfair and faith is often framed as us doing what we can do to get God to notice us. Yet Jesus, in this story and throughout his ministry, reminds us of a promise at the heart of who we are. When the young women showed up, they weren’t there because they were the most faithful or the very best at staying awake. Rather, they were a part of what was going on because the wedding party couldn’t happen without them. Waiting is hard and I’m sure we wish we were the kinds of people with a spirituality that stays faithfully lit no matter what comes our way. But God knows how human we are and every follower of Jesus – including those who were baptized by a painting of women in the Syrian desert 1800 years ago – needs the promise that our relationship with God doesn’t depend only on us. During those moments when it feels as if we have to chase after God, God comes to us through the Word, at the table, in our prayers, and with a little water to proclaim you are already part of something so much bigger than ourselves. You, regardless of how brightly your faith burns, are God’s beloved because God’s love cannot do anything less. You matter. You have value. And you really are worth living, dying, and rising for. The waiting we do is hard; yet God’s commitment to you is eternal. And even when we give up on God, God will not give up on you.
Amen.