Rev. Jay Rowland, “Now Is the Time” a sermon based on Matthew 25:1-13. This sermon utilizes material published by Jill Duffield, “All Time Belongs To God” in presoutlook.org, Looking Into The Lectionary, 23rd Sunday after Pentecost.
Now Is the Time
Given the events of this week and recent months too, I want to start by quoting our denomination’s Declaration of Faith:
“There is no event from which God is absent; [God’s] ultimate purpose in all events is just and loving. That purpose embraces our choices and will surely be accomplished. [God our] Creator works in all things toward the new creation that is promised in Christ.”
Faith statements such as this are not only “Affirmations of Faith” but also Assurances of Faith. I find myself leaning hard upon any and all words of assurance passed down to us by previous generations as well as through the scriptures.
It is very easy these days to lose perspective, to feel as if what we’re experiencing is unique or somehow more difficult than any previous generations have had to endure. And so, given everything we’ve endured so far in the year 2020, it seems to me that what is most called for right now is perspective. Perspective infused by the Holy Spirit, perspective through which we may see current and recent events as the medium through which we must and we shall live in hope and act in love as carriers of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.
I think it has now become painfully clear that living faithfully as disciples of Jesus Christ does not come easily nor inevitably. Christian discipleship in all its self-emptying is hard work. Spiritual work. I wonder if we perhaps believe that spiritual work, spiritual maturity isn’t “work” but is instead supposed to be peaceful and serene like watching a sunrise or sunset. If so, then it can be painful to experience the difference between faith and fantasy.
To put it another way, choosing to serve our living God who demands our all is difficult. And dare I say it, no more difficult for us than it was for those whose faith was challenged by the living during the Plague, or the Reformation or any of the bloody wars and conditions of the Middle Ages while social upheaval swept across Europe. Or here in America how can it be said that life in 2020 is more difficult than it was for those who experienced Slavery, or the Civil War, or the “Spanish Flu” or WW1, WW2. Christians who lived through those times surely struggled to cope with what must have appeared to them to be the end of the world.
Just as we are now, prior generations also had to discover, rely upon, and practice resilience and faith. Resilience from their faith in the midst of the chaos of what must have appeared to be “the end of the world”
Resilience can be thought of as keeping oil in our lamps despite the late hour. Resilience is a miracle in how it can see us through fatigue and disappointment, through myriad distractions, disillusionment, weariness, complacency, temptation. Navigating times like these requires all the virtues of Christian maturity we can muster. With much intervention by the Holy Spirit.
Because contrary to the dominant narrative and myth that proclaims “failure is not an option” reality has a way of forcing us to confront the fact that we do fail. Often. Failure is nothing to hide or be ashamed about. As people of faith, we confront our failure and we practice repentance, forgiveness & seeking forgiveness, and we learn humility … all of which contributes to a truly holistic, healthy, and mature faith rather than the illusion, denial, and self-deception which runs rampant in the halls of government and “modern” society
As we continue to endure uncertainty in the wake of this last week’s election and the world near to us and far from us continues to suffer from COVID-19 ... climate change … and the fall-out from recent natural and human-created disasters, all of this continues to impact how we live and move and have our being as disciples of Jesus Christ in the year 2020.
I was tempted to skip the gospel parable from Matthew today. Like most of the parables of Jesus, this one comes across as harsh, exclusionary, judgemental. But I decided to take it on in the hopes of perhaps opening our eyes and our hopes--with the help of the Holy Spirit.
For centuries the parables of Jesus have been inflicted upon people by a distinct group of other people for their own particular purposes. Amy-Jill Levine, a Jewish scholar of the New Testament, at Vanderbilt Divinity School, has taught me this, among other things. Parables challenge presumptions among religious authorities and people. Jesus’ parables are stories that intentionally create discomfort among any who are comfortable or complacent with spiritual corruption, to challenge human patterns and structures which displace and divide people.
Today’s parable is another example:
The foolish said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.'
But the wise replied, 'No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.' And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut.
Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, 'Lord, lord, open to us.'
But he replied, 'Truly I tell you, I do not know you.'
Most of us have been conditioned to project God into this scene rather than see ourselves in it. But parables are not metaphors or allegories about God. But unfortunately, that’s how parables have long been taught, interpreted and presented. And in this parable, many of us are conditioned to hear God saying to someone, if not us: “truly I tell you, I do not know you.” But that is a direct contradiction to most everything Jesus says and does in the Gospels.
What if Jesus intended this parable to be a mirror? What if Jesus hoped to expose our accepted patterns of living and relating to one another as a way to remove the blinders covering up our behaviors, structures, and institutions?
What if this parable is intended to help us feel what it’s like to be on the losing end of human patterns and practices of division and enmity and competition?
What if Jesus tells this parable in order to reveal the deeply entrenched, hidden patterns and structures and presumptions of those who wield authority and power upon those who have no authority or status or power? What if this parable reflects the damage we inflict upon our own communities —particularly our own faith communities?!
What if the whole point is that Jesus wants us to see whom we truly serve as opposed to who we think or say that we serve? … confront us with the question: are we truly serving God’s kin-dom or the status quo?
Our ways of living and being in this world either serve God or they don’t.
Who in this world today benefits most from our way of living and being and relating?
Can any of us say without hesitation: God 100%?
Of course not. Which brings us back to the importance of admitting our human failure, the importance of discovering humility.
The gospel calls us to always be ready to welcome and reflect Jesus Christ as Savior not because it comes naturally to any of us, but because it does not, or as someone somewhere once famously said, “ … not because it is easy, but because it is HARD”
Keeping the oil in our lamps requires much of us if we are serious about reflecting the true Light of the world.
Jill Duffield puts it this way, beautifully:
Ours is the oil of gladness that comes with unity, regardless of our differences.
Ours is the oil of anointing that marks us for priestly service … that prays for everyone and asks God to intercede in ways that bring repair and reconciliation.
Ours is the oil of healing that eases the suffering of those left beaten and battered and abandoned on the side of the road.
Ours is the fragrant oil of burial that the women took to the tomb when they discovered it empty.
Ours is the oil that dedicates to God all spaces & places, reminding us that we stand on holy ground whether our feet are standing in church, synagogue, or mosque … or standing on the streets, the floors of our homes, or the floor of factories, hospitals, boardrooms, courtrooms or classrooms.
Ours is the expensive oil that we pour out on Jesus' feet in adoration and worship, knowing that the unabashed love of God bears witness to the grace we receive from Christ and extend in his name.
Now is the time to fill up our lamps with the oil of Scripture that informs and encourages, shapes, and guides us.
Living faithfully in this time demands that we choose to serve God no matter how much it puts us at odds with our culture, or our political affiliation, or our even our blood relatives.
Duffield continues,
Now is the time to stock up on the oil of gladness and healing, the oil of dedication and anointing.
All time belongs to God. No chapter of history is abandoned by the Creator.
The God who so loves the world, enough to send the Son to save it, calls us into covenant to love it, too. This is by no means easy. In fact, it requires all our heart, soul, mind and strength.
I believe we are called, no, wait, I believe we were born for this: to be filled by God’s Holy Spirit, to let the Lord fill up our lamps, and keep our lamps lit—not hidden in embarrassment, nor hidden behind our failures, our shame, our privilege or our wealth or our possessions.
Because Jesus is surely coming--ready or not. But Jesus does not come wielding fear or punishment—no, that’s how the world comes to us. Jesus does not want any of us to be afraid of Him, or of God; Jesus does not want us to live in fear of any man, or any person, or any thing.
Jesus simply calls us to be ready. Regardless of the hour. Regardless of whatever seemingly dire situation seems to be bearing down on us. Because to be “ready” means understanding that we truly need Jesus and we want Jesus to appear just as He promised!
Because if ever there was a time in our lives that we truly need Jesus, now is the time.
So be ready! Let that lamp of God that is in you shine God’s light. For the time has surely come.
Now is the time.
