Bulletin

Living from the Liturgy

‘At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.’

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‘Woe to you who desire the day of the Lord.’

How often do we, as Christians, sing loudly of the joy of Christ’s coming to judge the living and the dead? How often do we speak of Jerusalem the Golden and heaven, our happy home? We talk about these things with such sincere giddiness, or sometimes insincere, but no less giddy giddiness, because we operate under the assumption that, at least to us, no ill will befall us. Rather we will simply be gathered together, and brought to the Father’s glorious light.

But the day of the Lord, it is darkness, and not light. It is gloom, with no brightness in it.

Our Lord speaks to us in a parable this day, and it is not a parable of comfort. Rather, it is one of warning.

‘The kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins.’

Who, then, are these virgins? It cannot be any other than the Church. This is not a parable about those who profess Christ and those who don’t. It is not about the believers versus the atheists, or the godly versus the godless. All those involved in our Lord’s narrative are virgins, they are those who have been purified by the sacrament of the font. Our Lord, now, distinguishes not between the faithful and the faithless, but rather between baptized and baptized, Christian and Christian, between two neighbors, both who flock their porches with kitschy Bible-verse sentimentality.

Yet they are virgins. In our society, to be called a virgin is almost synonymous with being called an ugly loser; someone who has neither the personality, nor accomplishment, nor intellect, nor wealth to be attractive to others. We think this because we are a decaying and disgusting people, who thinks that the purpose of having a personality or will, or mind, or possessions is to indulge our basest animal desires. Let such bestial thinking be left to the beasts. It is of no concern to us.

For we, who are reasonable, will simply call a thing what it is. A virgin is one who has not known any man or woman. But not simply this.

A virgin is not one who simply has not been united to another in sexual union. That is merely a statement of fact. One who remains a virgin is more rightly understood as one who will not be united to another, unless that other shows and proves the full devotion of their life and love. It is one who remains unstained by the world, for she knows the world does not love her. It is one who remains uncorrupted by the seductions of this godless society, of its politics and pleasures and rage and so-called righteousness, for she knows that such seductions are only to use her for their own gain. With these, the virgin has no communion, for the virgin will only be touched by the one who will die for her.

So it is that the parable instructs us as to what it means to even be in the Church at all, to be counted among the baptized. It is, as good Christians used to say in the 90’s, to wait for the one. The virgin is the one who waits, and waits with expectation, for the only love that will prove true, and will not be fooled and used and beguiled by the many cads and rakes whose affection will prove false.

To be a Christian is to be a virgin. To be a virgin is to be a loser in the sight of the world, but the world is fading away. To be a virgin in reality is but to be a steel-eyed cynic: to see through every lie and seducer, with all their flattery, and smile only at the coming of that love which indeed shall bleed for the beloved. To be a virgin is to be patient, and to hold back the grin of gladness for the only one who makes glad the hearts of men.

But the parable is very clear on one point. Only those who are chaste are counted among those who are within the Church, who await the bridegroom. But still, not all those who are chaste, not all those who wait; not all shall meet him.

For there are those whose lamp shall not go out, and those whose lamps shall, for they will have no oil.

What are these lamps, but the vessel of their own hearts? What is this oil, but faith in the crucifixion of the Christ? This faith given to us as a gift in the saving flood?

It is by oil that priests were ordained into the priesthood in the days of Israel. So too now are Christians made by baptism with water, which is the oil of wisdom. Yet oil that is unused will go rancid. So, then, what is the special character of a lamp, and of oil, but that it burns with fire, that it makes light? This fire is the fire of love, kindled by the Holy Spirit which resides in faith, as in a temple; for though we are reckoned righteous apart from works, yet faith without works is dead, for faith is never apart from works, even as a mother is never without a child.

Remember that it is written: ‘They will know you by your love for one another.’ And elsewhere ‘Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your works of love, and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.’ For ‘though I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am as a sounding brass, or a chiming cymbal.’ And ‘though I have prophesy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge, yet have not love, I am nothing.’

For again, ‘faith without works is dead.’

But I hear I do not want to moralize. I am not telling you just to do more good works, do more Christian things. Pray more, fast more, give more.

We must see, rather, that good works are a light, they are a light by which we see the Lord, and a light by which the Lord is seen.

We must labor in love for our neighbor, and labor in faith in God, for to do otherwise is to lose the light by which we see Christ, and so enter into darkness, where nothing can be sensed, save what we can grope with our hands, that which is hard and physical and within our reach, that which can be touched, that which is worldly.

It is the nature of sight that it sees what is far off, given there is enough light. It can sense what cannot yet be felt. But to those who have no light, only that which is palpable seems real, and upon those things to which  they direct their attention. In touching only what is of the world, they become worldly, and in becoming worldly, they become carnal. The carnal do no good works, and therefore see no good thing. But to those who serve in love, sight is bestowed, and they see in truth both what is near, and what is far off, what has gone away, and what is now coming.

[More I would like to say on this, of how to exercise our faith in the reality of love and good works is how the Lord becomes visible to us, how in the exercise of godliness, God becomes visible in us, and visible in our neighbor. But many have complained that my recent sermons have been too long; so let this whet your palate for a future sermon, of whose coming, no one knows the day nor the hour.]

But let us return to our Lord’s words.

‘As the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and slept.’ For death comes to all, the faithful, and the faithless; the loving, and the unloving; the wise and the foolish. ‘All are of one place; all are of dust, and all turn to dust again.’

‘But at midnight there was a cry, “Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.”

‘Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps, and the foolish said to the wise, “Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.” But the wise answered saying, ‘Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’

‘And while they were going to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut.’ ‘For apart from faith shall no man be justified.’

‘Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he answered “Truly, I say unto you, I do not know you.”’

Who are these foolish virgins but those Christians, those of us, who though we attend Church and pray before our meals, though we put on all the outward forms of religion, yet have no faith.

For though outward forms to the faithful are of the greatest glory and help, to the faithless they are hypocrisy and damning in the sight of the Lord, who sees the heart. For ‘Woe unto you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you devour widows’ houses, and for a pretense make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation.’

In this parable the day of the Lord has come; the bridegroom has arrived. To those wise virgins of faith, it is to them as the most joyous wedding feast. But to the hypocrites, ‘it is darkness, and not light; as if a man fled from a lion, and a bear met him, or went into the house and leaned his hand against the wall, and a serpent bit him. Is not the day of the Lord darkness, and not light, and gloom with no brightness in it?

‘For the Lord makes no distinction between persons,’ ‘but judges the heart’, whether it cleaves unto the Lord for salvation, or whether it relies on an outward show of religiosity.

Remember, the Lord despises such hollow false piety, even as the Prophet Amos declaims:

‘I hate, I despise your feasts, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies, Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them; and the peace offerings of your fattened animals I will not look upon. Take away from me the noise of your songs; to the melody of your harps I will not listen.’

Even as the Prophet Amos declaims now:

‘I hate, I despise your masses and your Saints Days, and I take no delight in your solemn vespers and liturgies. Even though you offer me your incense and collects, I will not accept them. And the benediction placed upon the people will not be my benediction. Take away from me the noise of your hymns, to the harmonies of your choirs and organs I will not listen.’

Many will say, ‘Well, I may not be a believer, but I think when I die and go to heaven, God will see that my good deeds outweigh my bad. He’ll surely let me in.’ But your good deeds, even your pious deeds, even your great church attendance, these will be of no avail to you. They were to be to you as vision and sight and aid, to help you do the one thing needful, which is to keep watch for the coming of the Lord, to proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

This is where this parable terrifies us: it is not said that the foolish virgins have no oil, nor that their lamps have never been used before. It is not that they never had faith, nor did any good works. Rather the bridegroom judges based on one thing, and judges Christians at this: did the fire still burn at the moment of his arrival?

Some of you may think: ‘this is a lot of Law, I can’t wait for the Gospel.’ And being a Lutheran pastor, you might reasonably expect me to end this sermon on the Gospel. But I will not add to the words of our Lord.

The end of the church year draws nearer, and the Lord leaves open the question: which are you? The foolish, or the wise? It is not my place to answer this for you, to ease your conscience, to tell you that surely you will be counted among the wise, for our Lord does not now want you to slip into complacency. Rather, He desires that you trim your wicks, and light the fire, that your eyes may be set only on Him; that you may see His coming, in His word, in His sacrament, in every moment of your passing life, that you may wait, and see His coming.

For He indeed is even now drawing near. And what you shall do as you wait, He now tells you:

‘Watch, therefore, for you know not the day nor the hour.’

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Preached by Pastor Fields
Sermon Texts: Amos 5:18-24; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13