"Christ does not marry the prepared. Christ prepares the ones He marries!" Trinity 27 2025

23. November 2025

Trinity 27

Matthew 25:1–13

Then the kingdom of heaven shall be likened to ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Now five of them were wise, and five were foolish. Those who were foolish took their lamps and took no oil with them, but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. But while the bridegroom was delayed, they all slumbered and slept (Mt 25:1–5).

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

Jesus’ parables never align with our desire for spiritual self-improvement. They are not simple moral stories meant to teach disciplined Christian living. They are not an instruction manual for preparing yourself to meet God. They are tools of death and resurrection. They reveal the rot of our self-righteousness and push us—sometimes kicking and screaming—into the arms of a Savior whose mercy is the only thing that will hold when heaven and earth collapse.

The parable of the ten virgins is no different. The challenge for us is that we tend to interpret it backwards. We assume Jesus is giving us instructions: “Here’s how you stay alert. Here’s how you prepare. Here’s how you ensure your lamp stays lit.” We think Jesus is creating a spiritual obstacle course so only the strong, diligent, and foresighted reach the wedding feast. But if that’s what this parable means, then none of us will make it. Because all ten virgins fail. All ten fall asleep. All ten are unable to wake themselves up. And not one of them has a plan for what to do if the groom is late.

The whole thing starts in a way that should unsettle you. All ten virgins are pure. All of them have lamps. All of them are waiting for the bridegroom. No one is living like a pagan or running around in scandal. Outwardly, the church looks fine. Respectable. Pious. Lamps trimmed. Good order. Catechesis completed. Membership on file. But Jesus isn’t testing their external readiness—He’s revealing the difference between faith and unbelief.

Five are foolish; five are wise. And of course, you immediately want to know which one you are. But here’s the blunt truth: if you’re measuring yourself, you’re already in the foolish camp. Because the foolish and the wise divide on one thing: faith in the promise of the bridegroom. Not performance. Not preparedness. Not moral scorekeeping. Faith.

According to the Law, wisdom means being future-oriented, calculating, disciplined, and gathering spiritual risk-management tools so that when Jesus appears, you can show Him your portfolio: “Look, Lord, I’ve prepared. I’ve stored up. I’ve got reserves.” The foolish, according to the Law, are the ones who don’t plan, don’t calculate, don’t secure enough oil, and don’t have everything in hand.

But according to the Gospel, that whole framework is upside down. A Christian just born from the Gospel appears foolish to the world because faith isn't a strategy. Faith isn't about stockpiling. Faith is about receiving. Faith is about empty-handed dependence on the One who has promised to come for you.

This is why the foolish virgins are foolish—not because they failed to pack enough oil, but because they did not trust the bridegroom. They feared running out; they feared being judged; they feared the delay. Their panic reveals the real issue: they didn’t believe the bridegroom was gracious. They believed he was the kind of man who would punish them for being unprepared, so they ran off to fix themselves before facing him. That is unbelief dressed up in pious anxiety.

Then comes the part that should shatter any remaining self-confidence: all ten fall asleep. No one stays alert. No one keeps watch. No one is the epitome of spiritual discipline. All fail. This is exactly how Scripture describes humanity—“no one seeks God,” “all have turned aside,” “all we like sheep have gone astray.” If salvation depends on staying awake, then we are doomed.

The only thing that saves anyone is the call at midnight: “Behold, the bridegroom!” The voice wakes them—not their readiness, not their vigilance, not their superior discipline. The Gospel call creates readiness. It wakes the dead. It puts the lamp in your hand and light in your darkness.

But that fear kicks in for the foolish. “What if our lamps don’t last? What if we aren’t enough? What if He is angry? What if He won’t accept us?” This is the reflex of the Old Adam. It’s the voice that always says, “Run. Fix yourself. Get more oil. Get worthy. Get prepared.”

And that is the one thing that condemns them. They leave the groom behind. They run from the very promise meant to save them. The wise don’t refuse oil out of selfishness—they simply refuse to take part in the foolishness of unbelief. “Go buy oil” is not a cruel command. It’s Jesus revealing the futility of trying to buy what only He can give. You can’t buy readiness. You can only receive it.

The door shuts. That’s the Law. The Law always shuts the door. “Lord, Lord, open to us.” And the Law answers: “I do not know you.” If that were the final word, then yes—hell should scare you half to death. And Jesus gives you that fear on purpose. If you cling to your works, your preparation, your perceived readiness, the door will close on you. The Law will not bend.

But the parable is not the final word. Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection are. After the resurrection, the disciples are like the foolish virgins. They hide behind locked doors, afraid of judgment, feeling unprepared, ashamed of their failures. And Thomas—the stubborn realist—demands more proof. He wants to see the oil. He wants to measure the supply. He seeks visible security.

What does the Bridegroom do? He doesn’t lecture. He doesn’t stand outside the locked door waiting for them to get it together. He walks right in. He stands among the foolish, the fearful, the unprepared, the ashamed. He shows His wounds. He speaks peace. He provides everything they lack. The Groom breaks through locked doors—not to punish, but to give Himself. That is the Gospel. That is the wisdom of faith. Christ does not marry the prepared. Christ prepares the ones He marries.

Your faith is not the flame you keep alive through your efforts. It is the flame ignited by His Word, nourished by His promises, sustained by His Spirit, and renewed every time He brings you again to His wedding feast in the Sacrament. Here, today, the Bridegroom comes—perhaps delayed in the eyes of the world, but never absent. Here, He fills your lamp. Here He feeds you with His Body and Blood. Here, He names you His bride.

So you hear the warning—because Jesus means it. But you do not hear it without the Gospel—because Jesus means that even more. Blessed are those foolish enough to trust only what Christ gives. Blessed are those who wait for Him with empty hands. Blessed are those who come to the feast again this morning. Blessed are you, for the Bridegroom knows you, calls you, forgives you, and receives you.

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
St. John Ev. Lutheran Church & School - Sherman Center
Random Lake, Wisconsin