Jesus MAFA, The Ten Young Women
Last week was very busy, so I'm a little bit behind on posting my sermons. This is from Sunday, November 12th. On that morning, we examined the parable of the foolish bridesmaids. This is one of a series of uncomfortable parables in Matthew's Gospel.
Sermon
Good morning. When I tell people that I’m a pastor, I get a
lot of questions about the work and how I do it. Some of the most common
questions are:
- How do you come up with a new sermon every week?
- Do you ever run out of things to say?
- How do you pick the scriptures?
I usually get these questions from people who don’t know me
very well. I mean, anybody who knows me knows that I never run out of things to say. But honestly, the scriptures have
so much to teach us, that it’s not that difficult to find something that’s
teachable and that works as a sermon.
This week, one of our members asked me how I chose the scriptures,
so I told her that I followed the Lectionary. She gave me a blank look. Then I
realized that it was a teachable moment, and perhaps I needed to share that
with all of you.
The Revised Common Lectionary is a systematic way to work
through the Bible. It offers a series of readings on a three-year cycle,
arranged around the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Currently, we are in
Year A, which is structured around the Gospel of Matthew. Each year starts with
Advent and ends with Christ the King Sunday. So this year, the new year, Year
B, begins on December 3rd; that’s when we’ll start hearing lessons
from the Gospel of Mark.
All of the other readings that we hear on a Sunday—the Old
Testament lesson, the Psalm, the epistle reading—each of those readings has
some sort of connection to the Gospel text.
Now there’s no rule that says I have to use the Lectionary,
but it’s a very useful tool. Most Protestant churches use the Lectionary; the
Roman Catholic Church does, too. It helps me to stay focused on the Scripture.
The Lectionary keeps me from preaching my own gospel; it keeps me from writing
my sermon first, and then finding a Bible story that “proves” I’m right.
We have two very interesting pieces of Scripture this
morning. Each of these texts could be very easily misused to “prove” a point,
especially if they are taken out of context. For instance, in the reading from
the Book of Amos, what most people remember is verse 24: “let justice roll down
like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Taken by itself,
it presents a nice, easy call for justice and righteousness. Taken as a unit,
it draws distinctions between self-righteousness and true righteousness; it
reminds us that God’s judgment is not something that any of us should seek.
That’s why the text from Amos is paired with the Gospel lesson.
This morning’s parable from the Gospel of Matthew is part
of a longer sequence in which Jesus describes God’s judgment and the coming
Kingdom of God. This is a challenging parable; it makes me uncomfortable. It
doesn’t quite fit with the rest of Jesus’ teachings. The wise bridesmaids
refuse to share their oil with the foolish bridesmaids, and then the foolish
bridesmaids were shut out of the wedding banquet. It almost seems like Jesus is
saying:
“Don’t share.”
“Don’t share with those who don’t have enough.”
“Look out for yourself.”
“It’s their fault; you’re not responsible for them.”
That doesn’t sound like Jesus to me and I don’t want to
preach on a text that says, “don’t share.” It seems to me that that’s the
opposite of what Christian community is about. But when we start thinking about
God’s judgment, we worry about ourselves first. We start thinking about who’s
in and who’s out; who is saved and who isn’t. And it’s really easy to say, “I’m
righteous; I know I’m in. I know I’m not one of the foolish bridesmaids.”
That’s a trap. Jesus set that trap.
The truth is, most of the time, we want to substitute our
judgment for God’s judgment. We believe too easily in our own righteousness and
we believe that other people ought to be righteous in exactly the same ways.
That’s always a big mistake. As much as we say we believe in grace, we act as
if we can work out our own salvation, and once we’ve worked it out, our work is
done. But it isn’t. Salvation isn’t a one-time event and there’s no formula.
In two weeks, you’re going to hear the parable of the sheep
and the goats. That story is also called the judgment of the nations. In that
story, Jesus addresses the disciples and the crowds that have gathered around
him, and offers a definition of righteousness: The righteous people are those
who feed the hungry, provide water to the thirsty, clothe the naked, visit the
prisoners and the sick, and welcome the stranger. Those are the sheep, the
people who follow the call of the shepherd, the Christ.
The people ask Jesus, “Lord, when was it that we saw you
hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when
was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you
clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?”
Jesus responds that whenever anyone does any of those things for anyone, they
have done it for Jesus. The reverse is also true. Any time that anyone fails to
feed the hungry, take care of the sick, or welcome the stranger, they have
failed to do that for Jesus.
The word parable means to cast beside. That is, a parable
asks us to hold one thing, one image, one idea next to another. The parables
invite us to look at ourselves, to cast ourselves into each of the roles.
In the parable of the sheep and the goats, neither the
righteous people nor the unrighteous people know when they helped Jesus, or
when they ignored Jesus. The same is true in the parable of the bridesmaids. We
aren’t simply the wise bridesmaids or the foolish bridesmaids; we’re both. We
are wise and foolish in equal measure. Our lamps are always empty and we always
have enough oil.
I believe that through this parable, Jesus calls us to live
gracefully. But what does that look like?
When I was in seminary, I was a terrible note-taker. That’s
only half true. I’ve always been terrible at taking notes. I will not serve as
secretary of any organization. My mind wanders when I take notes and I write
very slowly. I hate writing by hand; my signature looks a little bit different
every time I sign a check.
My dear friend Charissa—the Reverend Charissa Howe, I’ve
probably mentioned her before—is an excellent note-taker. We joke that she got
me through seminary. If we were in a class together, I wouldn’t bother taking
notes. I knew Charissa would share her notes and they’d be better than my
notes.
Sure, she still teases me about it, but she never got
bitter or resentful. She never said no and she probably would have shared them
with anyone who asked. She didn’t learn any less by sharing; her grades didn’t
go down.
And honestly, I’m sure I would have passed all of my
classes if she hadn’t shared her notes. I might have B or a C instead of an A
or a B, but I’d probably still be here today if she hadn’t helped me, though it
might have been more stressful, a little more difficult.
In the grand scheme of things, my seminary grades aren’t
all that important. What is important is that we became really good friends in
the process. I learned how caring and compassionate she is; I learned that I
can trust her. And I learned that she’s enough of a smart-aleck to tease me
about it. So, we have that in common, too.
The grace in the parable of the bridesmaids is the
invitation to constantly look at ourselves. This is how we avoid the trap of self-righteousness.
When we see ourselves as the foolish bridesmaids, we are reminded that we are
always in need and that we can’t do this on our own. When we see ourselves as
the wise bridesmaids, we are reminded that we always have something to share,
something that is needed by someone else. As we hold these two ideas next to
one another, we can live differently and more faithfully. We can shore more and
we can receive more. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Benediction
Now, beloved, as you depart from this place, remember that
we are called to be the Church, the body of Christ in the world today. Remember
that we are both the wise bridesmaids and the foolish bridesmaids. We are
called to go forth and be instruments of God’s love and peace and love and reconciliation.
Do not return evil for evil to any person, but know that we are all loved by
God, and that we are called to reflect that love to everyone we meet. Go forth
and be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. In the name of Jesus
Christ, our Lord, let all God’s children say, Amen!
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