The Ten Virgins

I think I finally understand the parable of the ten virgins.

For those of you who may not be familiar with it, here it is:

Matthew 25

1 Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom.

2 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish.

3 They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them:

4 But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.

5 While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept.

6 And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.

7 Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps.

8 And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out.

9 But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.

10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut.

11 Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us.

12 But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.

13 Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.


Just a brief note about parables: they are simply stories which are intended to illustrate a point. We all use this technique from time to time.

People often talk about prophecies and parables in the Bible as if they are very difficult to understand and/or subjectively interpretable. For the most part, they aren't. If a story is meant to illustrate a point, then usually you have only to look up what point is being illustrated. Voila, interpretation! As far as prophecies go, half the time the interpretation is written out right there next to the prophecy, and when it isn't, you just need to know the standard symbols that are used to illustrate the same things over and over. Most if not all of these standard symbols are defined clearly somewhere in the Bible.

So this passage is a parable embedded in a prophecy, and as such I've pretty much always gotten the basic gist of it. The bridegroom is a standard symbol referring to Christ. The virgins are clearly the people who are waiting for His return. Oil represents faith. Incidentally, olive trees generally represent the church (while fig trees represent Israel/Jews), and I think it's kind of cool that olive oil, which comes from the fruit (fruits in general usually represent "works") of the olive tree, is faith.

At any rate, you get the basic gist of the story when you understand what symbolizes what. All right, so there are these people waiting for the return of Christ (believers), and other people come up and ask them to share their oil (faith) and the believers say no, because they only have enough for themselves.

So, at its most basic, this parable talks about people who want faith, and go about trying to obtain it, but it's too late.

But on a deeper level...what does this mean? The well-prepared virgins are being asked to share their faith, and are refusing--what does this mean? Isn't refusing to share your faith always wrong? How could sharing faith reduce your own?

I think I finally understand.

Over the years, we as the church have lost sight of something, and that is that our PRIMARY (and maybe even in some circumstances ONLY) focus should be ourselves and our own faith. Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. MY love. My heart. My faith. My walk with God.

We know that we are required to be watchmen, and that if a watchman doesn't warn the inhabitants of the city of their impending doom, their blood is on his hands. But too much of the time, this responsibility of watchman takes over and becomes our only concern. All of our faith, all of our spiritual accountability becomes outwardly-focused on the world around us, and the secret state of our own hearts is ignored.

I tried an experiment a few weeks ago, and was surprised at the results. I decided that for one week, I would focus only inwardly. when I heard a sermon, I would only think of how it applied to me, and what I could gather from it to apply to my own life. I would not think, at any point, when reading the Bible or a political column or essay, or while watching television, anything that resembled, "Yes, that is what [other] people need to be told." I would only, only, only focus on myself. Just for one week.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't even make it a few hours.

Things in this world have been getting ugly for a while now. Because iniquity abounds, the love of many waxes cold. We all have different ideas on how exactly iniquity is abounding; we either believe that people are too open to homosexuality, or too opposed to it. We log onto political forums and try to turn others to our way of belief, whatever that belief may be. We either picket gay marriages, or we counter-protest people who are picketing gay marriages. Whether we believe we are fighting bigotry or fighting immorality, we are on the side of God, and carry with us the full force of his righteous indignation.

Surely, surely, it is important to stop bigotry, or to speak out against sin. Surely, surely it is always wrong not to share my faith. I am being a watchman.

But here is the thing: my primary responsibility is, and always has been, my own heart, my own ability to love, my own faith, and my own commitment to God.

Yes, we are told to be watchmen. But we are also told very clearly to remove the beam from our own eyes before telling someone else about the speck in theirs.

Luke 18: 9-14

Also He spoke this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

So, then, my primary duty is to fix my own heart. And when it comes to my own heart, then, what is my first order of business?

I am REQUIRED to love. There are thousands of verses about this--about what love means, and how it is expressed, and what is not love. 1 Corinthians 13 is one of the more famous passages, and really should be re-read from time to time. 1 John is also almost all about love. We are told that he who loveth not knoweth not God, because God is love. We are told that people will know that we are His disciples, not because we picketed the right things, not because we posted the right things in forums, and not because we fought for the right things, but because we had love one for another.

It can get no clearer than this:

Matthew 22:35-40

Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law?

Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.


What that last sentence means is that if we really loved, we would not need to be told anything else--ALL of the laws are, at their root, commandments to love. If we loved, would we murder? Would we steal? Would we covet what other people had, or, alternatively, would we be happy for them that they had it?

And that--THAT is my primary responsibility: to be the custodian of the oil in my own lamp, and to love.

So here is my shocking statement: if I am not capable of engaging in a political discussion or debate without becoming unloving, then I need to withdraw until I can. The virgins told the oil-less ones where to find oil for themselves, so maybe I need to point people in the direction of the Bible, and then I need to stop. My DUTY to watch my own heart is greater than my duty to share anything with anybody else.

The thing is that faith without works IS dead. It's true. But we have become so focused on how important it is to show these works--these external manifestations of our faith--that we neglect the internal substance of it, and our works are become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.

I'm not saying that we should not share our faith, convince others, debate or even fight for what is right. What I AM saying is that where my heart is while I am sharing, convincing, debating, and/or fighting, and how I express that faith is MORE IMPORTANT. I should be constantly pausing, examining myself, and saying, "Are you being loving now? Are you expressing yourself with love?" and if the answer to those questions is, "No," then maybe I am not the person who should be sharing right now.

People often say that because in Matthew 22:35-40 we are instructed to love God first and humankind second, it is okay to engage in hateful behavior toward others as long as it is done because of our love for God. Because clearly our love for God trumps our love for humans.

But here's the deal: they are part and parcel of one another. It's one of those mysteries that is nearly impossible to explain; but my love for human beings IS my love for God, because it is an expression of God's love within me. God IS love. I John 4:20 "If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?"

This, my friends, is the beam that is in my own eye, and it needs to be addressed before I worry about the speck of dust in yours.

The world is a battleground, and as time progresses, it will become more so. Each well-televised battle seems so very important. I want to save the world.

But the battle is also inside of me. The mystery of Christ is that my eyes do not see as His do. When I think of an important battle, I think globally. Getting something passed by Congress; that is important. Peace in the Middle East; that is important. But His ways are higher than my ways. Today, when I made fun of a coworker, a major battle was lost, and for all I know, to Him, that was the biggest battle that happened today.

Do you know what I think Christ's greatest sacrifice was? I don't belittle His death on the cross; heaven knows I don't. But, for thirty-some years, He lived through Every. Single. Day. Without ever falling, even once. Not even when no one was looking.

When I want to save the world, I want that one big act--that big grandstand, in one moment in time. The big hero. Difficult? Yes. Would I be able to do it? Probably not. But I might. But as hard as that would be, being all godly and heroic for one moment, fuelled by the knowledge of my own glorious sacrifice for God would be really easy in comparison to one week of tiny, invisible, and consistent victories. I know for certain that the latter is beyond me.

Make me better, Lord, make me better.