Scripture: Matthew 25:1-13
I want to make three points in today’s sermon, about The Profession, The Procession, and The Pronouncement.
But first, Point Number One… The Profession…
One of my family’s best summer vacations occurred in August of 2012 because it corresponded with the Summer Olympics in London. We would come back from the beach or pool, have lunch, and watch the Olympics. We would come home from dinner and watch the Olympics. I love the Summer Olympics, and the most memorable part of these games was the debut of one of the all-time greatest swimmers, Katie Ladecky, who was just 15 years old at the time.
And in her very first race, the 800-meter freestyle, Ladecky was not favored to win a medal. But she got off to a surprisingly fast start! And I’ll never forget the color commentator complaining, in a patronizing way, that the young Ladecky is going to have to learn to pace herself. She’ll have to learn that getting off to such a fast start is no way to win a long race like the 800-meter freestyle—which is 16 lengths of the pool—or eight laps.
But guess what? Ladecky not only started fast. She swam fast in the middle. And then… when it counted most, she swam fast at the end… And to everyone’s surprise she won gold, the first of nine gold medals in her career—and counting!
Today’s parable—sometimes called the Wise and Foolish Virgins or, as I’ve called it, the Ten Bridesmaids—is a shocking warning from Jesus that, when it comes to being a Christian, getting off to a good start… a fast start… or, indeed, any start at all… is never enough. You have to keep going until you reach your appointed finish line.
This parable should be especially sobering. It is aimed squarely at people like the vast majority of us who have already started in our journey of lifelong Christian discipleship: we’ve made a profession of faith in Christ. Most of us profess faith now. We’re members of this or some other church. And most of us at least go through the motions of being Christians—otherwise why bother giving up a Sunday morning for church?
You’re here after all…
And yet… Jesus warns us… faithful church members… Getting started is not enough for salvation.
Instead, in terms of this parable, Jesus says, we need enough “oil in our lamps”—whatever that “oil” represents—to make it to the finish line… and the finish line for us will either be the end of our natural lives… or the Second Coming of Christ, whichever comes first.
But let’s talk about the parable. These lamps are likely clay oil lamps—with a reservoir for olive oil and a spout. A flax wick sits in the oil and protrudes from the spout. That’s where you light it. If you’ve been to the Holy Land, you’ve seenthese lamps. Archaeologists have found them all over the place. And in this first-century Jewish world, these bridesmaids are waiting, alongside the bride, for the bridegroom to appear—at which point these bridesmaids would go outside to meet the bridegroom and follow him in a joyful procession into his house for the big wedding banquet.
This procession was part of an ancient wedding tradition…
Speaking of which, my second child, Townshend, is married to Lydia, who is the daughter of Ethiopian immigrants. And Lisa and I, and the rest of the family, were exposed to some great ancient Ethiopian wedding traditions when they got married. For instance on the Saturday morning of the wedding day, Townshend, along with his dad, and his groomsmen, had to “fight” members of Lydia’s family so that Townshend could capture Lydia, remove her from her parents’ house, and take her away for the wedding.
The “fight,” of course, was as real as professional wrestling… The outcome was already guaranteed. Nevertheless… we took part in that tradition on the Saturday morning of the wedding. It was fun.
And that’s why these bridesmaids needed their lamps. It was a tradition… a way of honoring and celebrating the bridegroom as he returned to his home with his bride.
It probably goes without saying that the bridegroom represents Christ—because in many places of both the Old and New Testament, that’s how Jesus is portrayed.
And we know that Jesus is directing this parable to people like us—professing Christians—because, after all, please notice that all ten bridesmaids have accepted the invitation to the wedding banquet. They are friends of the betrothed. They are insiders. They’re dressed the same. They’re waiting together. They’re friends with one another. They’re all carrying the same lamps.
From an outsider’s perspective, these ten bridesmaids are indistinguishable from one another.
The only difference is that, when the bridegroom returned, only five of them were ready… and five of them were not.
I listened to a sermon on this scripture by John Piper—who I think is nearly the best preacher of his generation. I love him, our theological differences notwithstanding. But I listened carefully, because Piper is Baptist. Which became relevant as he talked about this oil… or its absence. Which I’ll explain in a moment… And believe it or not, here in the Bible Belt we are surrounded by Baptists… and even the non-denominational churches ascribe to Baptist doctrines.
And here’s how you can know Piper is Baptist: because, he said, the five foolish bridesmaids didn’t have any oil at all… that their lamps were dry.[1]
And why would he say that? Because as a Baptist, he believes in the doctrine of once-saved-always-saved… or eternal security. And he, along with nearly everyone else, believes that this oil represents saving faith or, if not, then it represents the Holy Spirit or sanctification or good works. I think Jesus leaves the question of the oil open because, in a way, it doesn’t matter: whatever the oil is, it’s something that you only possess if you are truly a believer.
Therefore, from Piper’s perspective, the bridesmaids left home for the wedding without filling up their lamps or carrying an extra flask.
In other words, they never possessed saving faith to begin with… They may have looked like authentic Christians, but they always only “went through the motions” of believers. Their faith was never real.
I hate to say it, but I don’t think it’s that simple…
And I don’t believe that’s what this parable teaches.
These bridesmaids had at least some oil in their lamps. At some point, before the long delay of the bridegroom’s return, the foolish bridesmaids’ lamps were full… just like the wise ones. Their lamps burned dry not because they had no oil, but because they didn’t bring extra oil for the long wait. In fact, several modern translations add the word “extra” to verse 3, so that it reads: “they took no extra oil with them.”[2] Because they did not anticipate how long the bridegroom would delay before returning.
But originally they had oil in their lamps, as verse 8 indicates: “And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’”
Our lamps are going out. We lit them. And they lit successfully. Because there was some oil in the lamps. But now they’re going out.
And why am I belaboring this point, brothers and sisters?
Because scripture teaches that backsliding is possible. Dangerously possible.
In other words, even after someone comes to faith in Christ… even after they’ve been born again… even after they’ve received the Holy Spirit and have begun living an authentic life of Christian discipleship…
They may yet lose the saving grace they once possessed… through their persistent, unrepentant sin… through disobedience… through neglect… through unbelief. And they may not know it or think about it at all!
That fire of faith got lit at some point, but it has since gone out.
And this corresponds with the teaching of the rest of the New Testament: Jesus himself compares us believers to branches who are connected to the life-giving vine of Jesus. These branches must continue to “abide” in him, he says, or be cut off.[3]
Several years ago, my youth pastor growing up, Bill Bullard, died. Lisa and I attended his memorial service in Atlanta, in the sanctuary of the Baptist church where I grew up. Hundreds were there, including dozens of old friends and youth group alumni.
During the service, and afterward, people talked about the “good old days”—youth camps, retreats, lock-ins, all the crazy things we did together—and how much Bill meant to us. “Good old Bill! We love you, Bill. We’ll miss you.”
But something was missing.
Everyone was talking about Bill. Almost no one said anything about Jesus.
If I could have spoken at the funeral, I would have reminded them not mostly of what Bill did for us forty years ago, but what God did for us through Bill… because Bill himself made sure it wasn’t about Bill. Those campfire testimonies, those prayer groups and Bible studies, those songs we sang—that was all about Jesus: how amazing Jesus is, what he had done for us, what he was doing in our lives.
And I left that funeral wondering: How did so many people I watched profess faith in Christ, often with tears and great emotion… who got baptized, who “rededicated” their lives to Christ—sometimes more than once… how did so many stophaving a living, vital, growing relationship with Christ?
Have they backslidden? I hope not… If so, I hope they heed the warning of this parable and repent while there’s still time…
Dear friends, we must also heed the warning of this parable… Merely professing faith and getting started isn’t enough… We have to keep going… We have to finish the race God has set before us.
And that’s Point Number One: Profession…
Point Number Two: Procession…
One aspect of this troubling parable—that especially troubles people—is the response of the wise bridesmaids to the foolish when the foolish ask if they can share their oil. And the wise tell them, “No.”
Now, the first quick point to make is that, sadly, saving faith… and the Holy Spirit… and all the good works and virtues that flow from them… these are not share-able commodities. I’ve known so many faithful Christian parents who would love to be able to share their faith with unbelieving children. That’s just not possible.
Literally every person alive has to accept or reject God’s gift of forgiveness, salvation, eternal life for themselves, individually.
But let’s go deeper than that and ask ourselves this question: What is the oil in the lamps for? Or better, who is the oil for?
The oil is not ultimately for the bridesmaids… so that they’ll be able to get into the banquet. Remember what I said earlier: the bridesmaids light their lamps and fall in line behind the bridegroom… as part of a joyful, happy procession to his house.
My point is, contrary to what some people think, when the wise tell the foolish “no,” they’re not being selfish… at all!
Because they’re not lighting their lamps for themselves in the first place! They’re lighting them for the sake of someone they love even more… the bridegroom… to celebrate and glorify the bridegroom… to love and show honor to the bridegroom.
It’s his procession, after all. Not theirs! He graciously invites the bridesmaids to participate in it, but it is for his sake and his glory…
They can’t share their oil because if they themselves ran out, that would dishonor the bridegroom. It would make him look bad… and the whole point of the procession is to make him look great.
How does this connect to our lives as Christians?
We exist to love and glorify Jesus Christ above anyone and anything else. And there’s no close second.
This may surprise some people, but the point of our lives in this world is not to make sure we have whatever we need to make it to the next world. The point is not simply “to be saved”—as if salvation were an end in itself.
No… The point of our lives in this world is Jesus…
To love him… to honor him… to glorify him… to make him known… to make him look great… to reflect his love to others…
Only if or inasmuch as we do those things will we have lived a successful life in this world!
Yet what are we tempted to think counts as success in this world? Money, career advancement, family, popularity, physical fitness, beauty, health… Even we Christians make much of these worldly treasures…
Are we nearly as concerned about making much of Christ… of Christ being at the center of everything in our lives?
I’m asking myself this question too!
“But pastor, if we make too much of Jesus, people in Greenville might think we’re nuts!”
Okay… What else?
Here’s the problem about church… You and I can put nearly every worldly treasure ahead of our relationship with Jesus Christ—and as long as we’re friendly enough, and dress nicely, give a little bit of money, show up every once in a while, we’ll blend right in. No one will say boo. No one will say, “Hey, brother, what’s going on with your soul, right now? Hey, sister, why are acting like this? Where’s the fruit of the Spirit?”
We can be the most beloved church members, and whether we have a living relationship with Christ is beside the point! That’s the way church works… I wish it weren’t that way. Jesus even tells a parable about that, too… The Wheat and the Tares. You can look it up…
In Acts chapter 20, Paul is on his way to Jerusalem for the last time—and he knows he’s going to face intense suffering and persecution there. And when people find out he’s going to this hostile place, they beg him not to go. After all, they think, “You might be killed! Paul, you’re life is too valuable to be thrown away like that!”
And Paul disagrees. In verses 22 to 24 he says,
And now I am bound by the Spirit to go to Jerusalem. I don’t know what awaits me, except that the Holy Spirit tells me in city after city that jail and suffering lie ahead. But my life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus—the work of telling others the Good News about the wonderful grace of God.
The only value of his life, in other words, is that it can be used by Jesus for his purposes…
Even if our Lord has given Paul the difficult assignment of laying down his life for Jesus… then so be it. If he’s doing it for Jesus, then it’s more than worth it.
After all, Paul has already said, in Philippians 3, that “for [Christ’s] sake he has [already] suffered the loss of all things,” but in comparison to Christ, they are all “rubbish”… “garbage”… “worthless” by comparison.
You may have heard a few weeks ago that Elon Musk became the world’s first trillionaire. How easy it would be for someone like Musk to point to this trillion dollars and say, “See how valuable my life is! I’m worth a trillion dollars, after all!”
But not according to God’s Word… As Paul would say, “A trillion dollars is garbage if it’s not used to glorify Jesus… to love Jesus… and to use it for his purposes alone.”
We know this is true… Because we remember that great Foreigner song from 1977: “I would climb any mountain, sail across the stormy sea/ If that’s what it takes me, baby, to show how much you mean to me.”
What does it take to show Jesus how much he means to us? A trillion dollars? Okay… What else is Jesus worth to us?
“If it takes a trillion dollars show you, Jesus, how much you mean to me,” I will do it. “My life’s value is not measured by my bank account, or my popularity, or the awards I’ve won, or the grades I’ve made, or the success I’ve enjoyed… or even my closest family and friends… My life’s value is measured only by finishing the work you’ve assigned to me, Lord. Let me do that!”
Just let me do that, Lord…
And that’s Point Number Two… These bridesmaids can’t share their oil, because the purpose of the oil is the procession—which means our life’s purpose is to love and honor and glorify our bridegroom, Jesus!
Point Number Three… the Pronouncement…
I said a moment ago, that the wise bridesmaids did absolutely nothing wrong when they refused to share their oil. In fact, they did exactly what they were supposed to. Look at verse 9: “[G]o rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.”
In other words, they’re telling their friends where to go to find their ultimate joy, their greatest treasure, their deepest purpose, their life’s abiding value. “Go to that person and receive this gift, and then you, too, will have what we have… and then you, too, will be able enjoy the bridegroom like the rest of us!”
What are these wise bridesmaids really doing? They’re doing the work of evangelism… of bearing witness… of fulfilling the parable’s version Great Commission.
If Christ our bridegroom is as great as we say he is, then of course we’ll want everyone to know him, too!
So that’s what these wise bridesmaids were doing… It’s not their fault, after all, that the bridegroom returns too soon for these foolish bridesmaids to be saved.
[Pray:] “If I’m still living and breathing in this world when Christ returns, please, Father, let me be in the process of sharing the Good News of your Son Jesus.
Let me use whatever precious time you still give me to fulfill your mission! There’s nothing I can do that’s better than that.” Amen?
This parable is ultimately about the Second Coming—that moment when history as we know draws to a close and Christ returns… And the parable warns that, after that moment, there will be no further moments, no further opportunities, for people to repent and believe in Jesus and be saved. Or perhaps I should say, repentance at that point will be useless.
After all, didn’t the foolish bridesmaids repent? It didn’t matter. It was too late. The door was locked. And the Bridegroom gives this devastating pronouncement: “Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.”
Whenever I talk about the Second Coming, I sense that even for many Christians, Christ’s return is not a moment they look forward to.
And I was relieved to see that one theologian I admire, Dale Bruner, in his commentary on this scripture, put his finger on why that’s the case: He wonders, when the Second Coming happens,“Will there be some sadness for the locked out?”[4]
Will there be some sadness for the locked out?
I think Jesus gives us permission in this parable to wonder… I think he wants us to feel the sadness of this parable… of feeling love and compassion for people who are so much like us… except for saving faith.
And in asking this first question, a second question should immediately follow: “What are we going to do about it now?” Because one thing we know for sure right now is, it’s not too late… Literally no one who is living and breathing right at this moment is locked out of the wedding banquet. Sure, that may change in five minutes, but still…
So what are we going to do about it… As a church, what are we going to do about it?
Because one thing is for sure: the devil wants to use every opportunity to divide us and distract us, to cause conflict, to sow seeds of discord and contentiousness… Anything… any trivial thing to distract us from our urgent mission.
Be forewarned…
It doesn’t change the fact that people we know and love risk being locked out of God’s kingdom forever.
Yet we still have time to do something about it!
When I was a freshman in college I discovered the music of Christian singer-songwriter Keith Green, from the ’70s. He had a powerful impact on my life in the late-’80s… and when I came back to his music 30 years later… I was happy to say it still held up!
He has a song called “Asleep in the Light.” It includes these words:
Open up, open up
And give yourself away
You see the need, you hear the cries
So how can you delay?
God’s calling and you’re the one
But like Jonah, you run
He’s told you to speak but you keep holding it in
Oh, can’t you see it’s such sin?
The world is sleeping in the dark
That the church just can’t fight
‘Cause it’s asleep in the light
Wake us up, Lord, to our urgent task… Wake us up…
[1] John Piper, “Jesus Christ, the Bridegroom, Past and Future,” desiringgod.org, 4 April 2004. Accessed 10 September 2026.
[2] See NLT, NASB, AMP, GNT, NET
[3] Hebrews 3:12; 6:4–6; 10:38–39; Romans 11:20–22; 1 Corinthians 10:12; John 15:2–6.
[4] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13–28, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990), 549.