50-50 isn’t good enough for God

Sermon on Matthew 25:1-13

After the last couple of days, I feel like I have an idea of what it is like to wait. Mostly impatiently. Without knowing the time or the place, where I would learn about it. Would I be at home, running to the fridge, grabbing the champagne that’s been cooling since November 3rd?

Would my neighbors run out into the streets? Would I be shopping? Or in the car? What would I do? Would I be prepared to take the News no matter the outcome?

After the last 8 months I feel like I have an idea of what it is like to wait. In the beginning extremely impatiently. Then it turned into a state of resignation and later some kind of acceptance. And by now I have to admit that I find some joy once in a while in this “in-between time”. When having lunch with my husband on a weekday, I simply enjoy it. When being flexible about vacation because the kids can log into their Zoom from everywhere, I feel a sense of freedom. And yet, I still wait for the time After Corona. Or at least with a vaccine.

Am I prepared for that? Or will it come as another surprise?

When we started talking about holding an in-person service outdoors, at first we all felt a bit overwhelmed by the logistics. And then, someone said: “It’s not as if we haven’t had time to think about this for the last 7 months.” Well, it’s true. And it’s also true, that we don’t necessary use every waiting time to be best prepared.

After the last nearly 2 years that I have lived here now, I feel like I should be prepared for the next big earthquake. I know I should have stocked up on food and water and have my emergency backpack ready to go every day and night. Truth is, I am half prepared. We have water and canned food, lights and batteries. If it happens at night though, my phone will most likely be uncharged. Oh, and our kitchen would be a mess, since nothing is stored earthquake proofed.

What I am saying is: Who am I to judge the foolish girls from today’s Gospel.

So, that is the Gospel for today. The story how half the people chose wisely and the other half chose foolishly. How half of them got to go to the party and the other half didn’t.

Well, on another Sunday I might have been happy to preach that divisive message. Even though I doubt it. But certainly not today. Certainly not after a week that’s been one of the most exhausting, mentally draining weeks I have ever experienced. And certainly not after we know, again, that this country is basically divided in half. Or, as many from both sides of the spectrum would say, divided into the wise and the foolish. Which of course depends on your own perspective. But I am pretty sure everyone puts oneself in the wise category.

And today, I refuse to believe that that’s what the kingdom of God will be like. A divided group of people with 50% remaining outside in the darkness. That’s not the kingdom of God. That’s our reality in 2020. If that’s the kingdom of the God, I sure don’t want to go there. Because there it would be like this for eternity. Here, we have a chance to come together as one people.

So, let’s look at the Gospel. It’s very well known and the moral seems to be utterly clear. So clear that a sermon shouldn’t be needed. The message is: “Be prepared.” And looking at my own emergence preparedness I hereby have to confess that I continue to fail. Of course, I watch you thinking now, no, pastor, that’s not what Jesus is talking about here. It’s about being prepared for when Jesus will come back one day. Or at least to be prepared for my own death.

And sure, that’s fair. Even though I am not sure I will ever be prepared to die. And I am certainly still not prepared for Jesus’ great comeback. How I know that? Because I keep missing him in the streets. I keep walking by him, not feeding him, not talking to him when he might need it.

So, let’s look at the Gospel again. We have an amazingly tardy and rude groom. He shows up late and through that puts 10 young women in danger. They were outside waiting for him all by themselves at night. Back then that was probably not the safest place for women to be. And when he finally comes, he doesn’t even apologize. He just expects everyone to be ready. Not my type of guy, honestly.

Then, there are 10 girls. They were probably around 12 or 13 years old, because at the age of 14 girls were already married. They are basically kids. Excitedly they left their homes to go to a wedding. Maybe the last one before their own. They brought lamps burning on oil. I picture them singing, chatting, laughing in anticipation. After a while they got cold, they got tired, they fell asleep. Leaving their lamps on so that they would be seen in the darkness.

Suddenly, they are wakened by a loud noise. The groom is coming. Get up and get ready! Quickly! Their lamps have burned out after all those hours. 5 girls smile and grab their little replenishment to refill their lamps. The other 5 girls stare at them. “Oh, that’s a great idea. I should have brought some, too. Would you please share your lamp with me? We could just walk in pairs, right?”

But the prepared girls see their chance, right here, right now to prove how great they are to the groom and the world. Instead of sharing with their friends and really sticking together as girls they try to outcompete them. It’s what women so often do. We are each other’s harshest judges. How we look like, how we wear our makeup, how we don’t wear makeup. Whether we stayed at home with the kids or hardly took off any time, whether we breastfed or bottle fed.

We somehow often fall for the notion that only one choice can be right, and that’s ours. And then we go ahead and condemn everyone who picked differently. Without looking at the situation or the needs. Without caring what’s best for that woman or that family. Often without even listening to the other side. Which actually isn’t the other side or worse. Just another way of living the life of a woman.

Imagine what happened if we women stopped judging each other and actually came together around all the issues we share. It would be a revolution. If the vulnerable and marginalized in a society worked together to access the party. If the people of a nation worked together to make their country a better place for everyone. It would be a grant revolution.

But this story is realistic. Not a fairytale at all. The 5 well prepared girls don’t only not share. They also give their friends some piece of really bad advice, covered in a caring, soft voice. “Quickly, run and buy some oil. If you hurry you might make it.” And off they go. Losing any chance to meet the groom. Losing their chance to go to the wedding altogether. Of course, it’s too easy to simply blame the wise girls. The foolish ones might have welcomed the idea as well. It saved them from the embarrassment to meet the groom unprepared. Instead of facing their fears in the darkness, they ran away.

And the groom? He didn’t bother about those lost souls. He shut the door and partied with 50% of the invited guests. Which basically proves that this is not an image for God. At all. God, who runs behind one lost sheep. God, who welcomes the lost son. God, who sends his only son into the world to save us. All of us. That God surely doesn’t slap a door in the face of some tired, sweaty latecomers.

And yet, this story is the Gospel. Because it mirrors our reality. And it shows a way out. “Stay alert!” Not to be part of the chosen people. But to choose compassion over competition. And dialogue over winning. And inclusion over exclusion. “Stay alert!” For at the end of the Gospel according to Matthew, he will report how Jesus sent out his disciples. All of them. The well prepared and the always a little late ones. To go out, teach, heal and preach to the world. Not just to 50% of its population. To everyone. To come together around one table. Because there is only one table in the kingdom of God and the light will shine and it will be bright enough for everyone. Amen.