Sunday, 12 November, 2023
Gospel Text: Matthew 25:1-13
I find today’s parable troubling. Why do the wise bridesmaids and groom respond so harshly towards the foolish ones? Even if they had no oil to spare, why do the wise bridesmaids seem completely unsympathetic to the foolish ones’ situation? They respond, “No! Go find your own!” And the groom’s response is even worse. He not only prohibits the foolish from entering the banquet, but he seems to deny their existence – “Truly, I don’t even know you.” If we interpret the parable to mean that wise bridesmaids are faithful Christians and the groom is Jesus, then this vision of the Kingdom of Heaven is a harsh one. Today’s parable is a warning: “Get your act together, or you’ll be left out of Heaven.”
That interpretation doesn’t seem to match what we know about Jesus. Jesus - the compassionate one, befriending sinners and dining with them, who heals the sick, finds the lost, and seems to favor the totally unprepared and unfaithful. We know this Jesus, through his death and resurrection, proclaiming to the world that the Kingdom of God is a free, unmerited gift, rooted in God’s abundant grace. It would seem, considering what we know about Jesus, it should be the other way around: the foolish make it into the Kingdom of Heaven, and the wise instead find themselves locked out of the banquet.
Maybe this all seems confusing this morning. Resolving what the parable tells us about who Jesus is might take more time than I have for this sermon. However, I want to draw you attention elsewhere in the parable: “And at midnight, there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bride’s groom; come out and meet him!’” This message is not simply, “Jesus can be found in the places we least expect him.” It is instead a proclamation Jesus appears in ordinary places, places of humility, rather than in grand displays of holiness and piety. In fact, the parable’s proclamation is like what Martin Luther described in his theology of the cross. God is found in the ordinary, and God is found particularly in the dark places of life. God is found in moments of suffering and in the lives of those who suffer. Jesus comes to us in those things, people, and places that we’d rather not talk about and would rather not gaze upon. One of those things is the reality of suicide.
This past week, I spent two days teaching a workshop that gives people the skills and ability to intervene when they discover someone is contemplating suicide and taking their own life. I have taught this workshop many times, and what I have observed is suicide is one of those “dark things” that we as humans have a difficult time talking about. It is hard to talk about the fact there are people who experience difficulties in life, so difficult that they would take their own life. Sadly, there is a myth that places a moral judgment on suicide as an unforgivable sin. More tragically, the Church has been guilty at times for perpetuating this myth. This myth causes people to hide their true feelings and the fact that they are suffering and are reaching out for help. The training teaches people to be aware of this fact, to be ready to see the very subtle signs that people may be thinking about suicide, and to be ready to help them through that moment and connect them to the resources they need.
While the training does give people more confidence in intervening when they think someone is struggling with suicidal thoughts, there is a deeper transformation. Those who attend the training become more willing to draw near to someone experiencing a dark moment. They have a deeper empathy for the person’s suffering and struggle to stay alive. In that transformation, I believe, the Jesus of the Cross is drawing near in that moment and not just to be with them in suffering but to raise up their humanity in a way that brings life, light, and hope.
This parable doesn’t explain who Jesus is. It is also not about commending the wise and condemning those who might be foolish. It is a parable that teaches us that Jesus comes to us in dark places and in moments of suffering. Jesus comes to us…..in that person we tend to ignore on the streets, begging for our spare change….in the homeless and hungry as the weather turns colder…..in the immigrant, refugee, and foreigner we’re told to fear….and in those who struggle with their mental and emotional health, even to the point of suicide.
As we ready ourselves, longing to see Christ in our midst, may our lamps be filled with the oil of compassion, mercy, humility, and love. Such oil fuels divine light in the dark places and on those who suffer….so that we and all people may clearly see the One who has come, is continually coming, and will in fullness come again: Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.