The Ten Virgins

THE TEN VIRGINS

 Rev. Alexander Stewart, D.D.

 “Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom,” Matthew 25:1-13

Parable of the 10 virgins from our
Sunday School blog here.

       It is night in an Eastern city; the narrow streets are deserted; sunk in slumber are the inhabitants of the houses, the dark outlines of which can be traced against the sky. From one solitary dwelling only beams a light, faint and flickering. In the chamber whence it emanates a strange group of human beings is gathered together. The apartment is adorned with all the circumstance of Oriental luxury. Upon low divans and sumptuous cushions, carelessly but picturesquely dispersed upon the floor and against the walls, repose a number of female figures, attired, not for sleep, but for the stirring scenes of the feast and the dance. The sleep that blesses in the intervals of intense excitement, when the wearied body undergoes a reaction, and the thought of excitement to come is not sufficient to sustain the exhausted energies—in those moments when, all that could be done having been done, there is nothing left but to wait—has overtaken them. There, as they sat in sprightly conversation, the merry voices hushed and the ringing laugh ended, while the flickering lamp by the side of each casts its dancing light across dark tresses, rich garments and closed eyelids, they slumber and — sleep. 

       Deep silence reigns within and without. The solitary tread of some late wanderer or the bark of the dogs which infest the streets of an Oriental town alone disturb the universal quiet. One hour, and yet another, passes by; midnight is at hand. And now in the distance is heard the faint sound of music, mingled with shouts of joy, and the deep murmur of an approaching multitude. They come nearer, the sounds become more distinguishable, and not to be mistaken. A long line of light is traced through the winding thoroughfares, the glare of torches is cast upon the fantastic buildings. And now the wild cry is raised: “ Behold, the bride- groom cometh; go ye out to meet him.” Within that dwelling all is at once hurry and confusion. Busy feet are rushing to and fro, the work of preparation is completed, answering shouts of jubilance are raised. The chamber where all was recently so still is now a scene of life and bustle. The virgin companions of the bride rouse them- selves from slumber, trim their lamps, and, taking their oil-vessels with them, go out into the night to meet the bridegroom. Small pause is made as they join themselves to the procession. The joyful train sweeps onward. Arrived at the bridegroom’s dwelling, they find all open for their reception; they pass in, and the doors are shut. Useless is it then for any dilatory guest to knock at those gates. A strong guard is placed over them, who will not allow any interruption of the festivities. When the . friends are so numerous and the occasion so impor- tant, itis justly considered that any one by being unready proves himself unworthy of the privileges to which he had been summoned. 

       Such is the scene to which our Lord alludes in the parable before us—a scene very familiar to those, to whom it was originally addressed. Few among them could have failed to have been present at just such a ceremony. And indeed, with that tenacity of custom and observance characteristic of the East, scenes precisely similar in all important particulars are still to be observed and have been described by travelers of the present day. With what force and vividness must this illustration, drawn from their own domestic life and surrounded with the most endearing associations, have fallen upon the ears of our Lord’s disciples. Nor has the interest of it declined with years. Among the similitudes by which Jesus illustrated the different phases of the “kingdom of heaven”—that kingdom whose subjects are the spirits of men, whose laws are summed up in love, which He came to establish upon earth—few are soreplete with solemn warning, tenderly and delicately administered, few have been the subjects of more careful study and more loving contemplation than the parable of the Ten Virgins. 

       The central thought of the parable is the fact that the call of duty comes to some prepared and to others unprepared for its discharge ; and the consequent warning that mere unreadiness will render all other qualifications of no avail and of no value, excluding both from the possibility of performing what is required and from participation in the reward which attends on that performance alone. The duty of all the virgins alike was to accompany the bride and bridegroom to their abode. The wisdom of the wise virgins consisted in their perfect preparedness to do so, the foolishness of the foolish in their unreadiness and want of care. And in order to place in a more striking light the great danger of that sin of presumption and improvidence against which the whole parable is designed as a warning, all other imaginable causes of the final catastrophe are put aside. Only in_one point did the wise and foolish virgins differ, yet upon that one point turned their widely different destiny. A hundred strong links may be in the Chain, but a single weak one renders the whole useless. Unreadiness, neglect, carelessness, trusting that some- thing will happen opportunely, or that some contingency which we fear will never come to pass, instead of being prepared, as far as lies in our power, for every event—such is the sin of which we are here taught to beware. Such is the error, the evil consequences of which are as surely inevitable as it is true that lost opportunities can never be recalled. 

       No doubt in this parable—indeed in all the parables of this chapter—Jesus was primarily refer- ring to the experience through which His disciples and the Church would be called upon to pass—the former when He was taken away from them, the latter when He came again to judge the world in the glory of His Father and of all the holy angels. When He came again would He find faith on the earth ? Would there be the earnest expectation, the looking for the revealing of the power of God? Or would it be as in the days of the Noah, when all went on with most mundane regularity, the mirth and the festival, the marrying and giving in marriage, with no higher outlook, with no thought of the impending doom, until the day when Noah entered into the ark and the period of grace was over? ‘Watch,’ is the Saviour’s admonition— “Watch, therefore ; for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.” 

       I propose, however, to consider the parable, of which these words form the fitting and impres- sive conclusion, in a much more general way. I take it as a type or symbol of those calls of duty, of those opportunities of good, which we from time to time receive, which we may use or neglect, and which according to our use and neglect of them will be for our happiness or our shame. Christ comes to us with every call of duty, His voice summonses us to work and to endure for Him. If we are ready, we are able to answer the call and to accompany the bridegroom to the marriage; if we are unprepared, He passes on, and the door is for ever shut. It is of no use then to plead our worthiness in other respects, our willingness to perform this duty also, if only we had the present ability ; it is unavailing to point to the preparations we have already made, or to ask for time to perfect them. That constitution of things under which we live is ruled by the inexorable law that reward only attaches to duty done, and that we can only make sure of performing duty by being at all times thoroughly prepared for its discharge. 

       For observe, these virgins were all alike qualified for the task which lay before them. When the foolish virgins came to the door seeking admission the plea was never once advanced that they were in any way unfitted for their office. It was their folly, and that alone, which had excluded them. So there is no man, however naturally depraved, however weighed down with a load of guilt, who is thereby unfitted to become an object of God’s redeeming mercy in Christ. The chief of sinners may be transformed into an angel of light, and he whose hand had wrought only works of darkness may be made willing and strong to do the will of his Father who is in heaven. 

       Again, these virgins were all alike chosen; they were the chosen friends of the bride and bridegroom, selected to bear a special and important part in the nuptial ceremonies. They had no excuse to offer for the non-fulfilment of any duty; they could not evade it on the plea that it was not incumbent upon them. They had an individual responsibility with respect to it; they had been summoned individually and specially to perform it. Not only so, but they had accepted the office entrusted to them voluntarily ; it was no compulsory service. “They went forth to meet the bridegroom.” We are never unbidden guests in God’s presence, we are never unenlisted soldiers in God’s army; if we are there at all we have come at God’s invitation and of our own free will. No duty, therefore, which can present itself is not incumbent upon us; our commission is a general one to do whatever we can for Him. And still less can that special duty to which we have been called, which we have voluntarily undertaken, be excusably laid aside. As it was the virgins’ obvious and natural duty to accompany the bridegroom, so is it ours carefully to do that for which we are peculiarly fitted, to which we feel we have been peculiarly summoned. 

       Further, these virgins were up to a certain point all alike prepared to meet the bridegroom; all were furnished with brightly-burning lamps. They fully comprehended what that duty was which would be required of them; they went forth from their homes with the deliberate purpose of discharging it, and according to their views of its magnitude were not unprovided with the means of doing so— They took ''their lamps” with them. Had the bridegroom come when they expected him, they would all alike have entered in to the marriage. A possible cause of the final exclusion of some is here again laid out of account. They had not committed the gross carelessness of bringing no light whatever with them. They had not even provided themselves insufficiently apart from the consideration of delay. In every point they seemed fully prepared for the efficient performance of everything that was likely to be required of them. So may a Christian man be now fully equal to his duty. His soul cleansed from sin by the purifying blood of Christ, many evil tendencies overcome by the work of the sanctifying Spirit, he may be fully conscious of being called by the Divine voice and upheld by the Divine strength; he may hunger and thirst after some deed to be done for God, some suffering to be undergone for His sake ; he may be preserving his body in purity, and his soul in uprightness; he may be a vessel full of grace, a lamp very brightly burning. Oh, that he might be brought face to face with his task! Oh, that the steps of the bridegroom would hasten, while the firm-set lips betoken resolution and the heart beats with a generous warmth! Oh, that this high hope would never fail and this enthusiasm grow cool no more! 

       But at this point a distinction between the virgins emerges. We learn from a Jewish author that ten lamps or torches was the usual number in a marriage procession, and the selection of ten as the whole number of the virgins is probably thus accounted for; but of these in this instance five, we are told, “were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them; but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.” Some have supposed that by lamps torches are meant or wicks fastened on staves and supplied with oil from the accompanying vessel. This would support the view that the foolish virgins were wholly without faith, that their lamps were never lit, had never really burned. But apart from the consideration that this would alter the whole lesson of the parable, which turns on the distinction not between faith and no faith, but between an enduring and an unenduring faith, that the lamps here mentioned were proper lamps, and that the oil was kept in a separate vessel for future replenishment, not for immediate consumption, is evident from the seventh and eighth verses. There we are told, not that the virgins lighted their lamps, but that they trimmed them, and the foolish virgins complain, not that the lamps could not be lighted, but that they were going out. The lamps had thus been burning all the time the virgins were slumbering, and therefore must have had a store of oil in themselves apart from the oil-vessels which accompanied them. 

       All alike, then, had filled their lamps with oil, but the wise virgins had filled the oil-vessels too. They made provision against delay. Had, then, the thought of delay not occurred to the foolish virgins? It must have done so, but they had evidently not realised it as they ought. Yet the bridegroom came by midnight, and in the East it is not uncommon for him to be detained beyond that time. Had these virgins not been deficient in interest and zeal, they would not have run the risk of exclusion from the festivities for want of a sufficient store of oil, which might have been so easily procured. They were careless— they probably never thought of ascertaining whether they were adequately provided; or they were presumptuous—they thought that, if — required, some one would perhaps be superabundantly supplied; or they were idle—they did not want the trouble of going to those that sold the oil, but chose rather to run the risk of the bridegroom coming upon them unprepared. But whichever of these was the actual cause of the omission, each and all would have been impossible to a more burning zeal, to a more ardent enthusiasm. Had their love to the bride been more intense, had their interest in the proceedings been more real, had their sense of duty been more commanding, they would have anxiously contemplated every possibility and provided against every contingency, as the warrior going into the battle examined every link and every buckle of his armour. As it was, they were ready for present duty, but had not contemplated delay. So there are those who are ready to obey all ordinary requirements, and make all ordinary sacrifices for God and Christ, who in the day of special duty and special trial are found wholly unprepared. They are of those ignoble souls who, if. only they are saved, are willing that it should be as “by fire.” To live as little out of the world and as little opposed to the world’s customs and prescriptions as a Christian can well do, is the life they select for themselves. To have the faintly beating pulse and the nerveless frame of one just recovering from a death-like torpor is their idea of life. Ah, what mean these cold, corpse-like figures with their flickering lamps in the marriage procession? This is the season of high-hearted youth, of warm hearts and jubilant faces, of loud voices and untiring limbs, of lamps flaring out upon the darkness. Will the bridegroom accept that frigid greeting instead of the warm, enthusiastic reception which befits the occasion? Oh, ye who think so to serve God, ye deceive your own souls! The call of duty will oftentimes come to you when you are unequal to it. Great things as well as small are to be done in the world. Never imagine to yourselves limits to the duties for which alone you have to be prepared. Be ready for the greatest, and you will not be wanting for the less ; but if you think only of the least, the greater will overwhelm you in ruin. That which was fatal to the foolish virgins was the delay of the bride- groom. You may have been ready for a duty once, yet have allowed your watchfulness to slacken. Learn to imitate the wise virgins, and, prepared for every contingency, possess your soul in patience. Let not your sword get rusted from inaction, let not your vigilance be lulled into security, let not the oil dwindle; be ready at all times for all things. “This is the point of the parable,” says Calvin, “ that it is not enough to have been once girt up and prepared for duty, unless we endure even unto the end.” Observe, it was not from want of time that no oil was provided—for the bridegroom tarried ; nor was it from excess of occupation—for while he tarried they all slumbered and slept. Even then, at the last hour, that which was requisite might have been procured; and better then than later—when the bridegroom was already approaching, and when, as they actually found themselves compelled to go and buy, they consequently lost the opportunity of participating in the marriage festivities. 

       “They slumbered and slept.” God does not summon us to useless tasks. There was no need that they should watch; all that was required of them was to be ready. The wise virgins slept the sleep of innocence and virtue. They had done all they could ; their duty was patiently to wait, yea, to sleep, that they might not be wearied and sleep-oppressed when called to more active exertion. The foolish slept the sleep of ignorance and carelessness. Who could now distinguish between them? None; until the awaking revealed what they were. “At midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.” The time for action had at length arrived; the pealing summons fell upon waiting ears. “Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out,” or, as in the Revised Version, “our lamps are going out.” There is here no want of inclination or of willingness; they arise with full purpose of obeying the call; they set about the final preparations necessary, apparently unconscious of the true state of matters, or at least not fully realizing it. Now, when they come to trim their lamps the foolish virgins perceive for the first time the error they have made, but the remedy is apparently easy. Indolence and _ selfishness not infrequently go together. Those who will not think or act for themselves are not unwilling to take advantage of the greater foresight and energy of others. There is as little apprehension as remorse in the calmness of the solicitation, “Give us of your oil; for our lamps are going out.” But the importance of the occasion demands a supply which can only be met by individual prudence. At such a time there is nothing over. With all their wisdom the wise virgins were able to bring no more than sufficed for their own requirements. There is no unkindness or want of generosity in their reply. “Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you”; still less is there mockery in their advice, “but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.” The imprudent must bear the consequences of their imprudence; neglect and sloth are not so easily remedied as they suppose. A present effort, an endeavor hastily to accomplish what should have been long ago and leisurely cared for, is the only alternative. When an extraordinary  duty comes to a man who has only prepared himself for ordinary duties, it may not find him unwilling to attempt it. But he soon discovers his want of strength; he has allowed his opportunities of spiritual sustenance to pass away unimproved. The human assistance, which he at first invokes, is powerless to help him. Each man has his own burden to carry, his own contest to wage. Each man’s strength, even at the best, is barely sufficient for that which devolves upon him. Besides, responsibility is individual; it cannot be shifted from one to another. Are you ready for the calls to be made upon you is the question addressed to each. If, through neglect and sloth, you be not ready, the opportunity for discharging that duty may pass never to return. 

       But when human aid is unavailing, may not Divine aid still be sought? It may. Instead of sinking under despair, or sinfully acquiescing in the passing away of the opportunity, go to them that sell, and buy; in other words, seek, in the appointed means of grace, the aids of God’s Holy Spirit, the supply of the strength which you need. It may be that the call of duty will not have ceased to sound before you are able to answer to it. Too frequently, however, is the fate of these careless ones that of the foolish virgins. “While they went to buy the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily, I say unto you, I know you not.” To obtain the requisite grace may require time, and meanwhile the occasion passes by. The virgins went and bought, they came back supplied; there was nothing then to prevent them from fulfilling their office, save that the opportunity had passed. We are not told that they could not buy, that the shops were shut, but simply that it was too late for that time. They never wanted will, now they have strength also, but they cannot recall lost opportunities. Not even the marvelous power of prayer can bring back the chance of discharging duty neglected. 

        In vain they cry at the door, “Lord, Lord, open to us.” With the duty there has also passed away from them position and privilege. The bridegroom knows only as the attendants of the bride those who met him on his way, and conveyed him to his abode. No others have any claim upon him. They only are the true wedding guests who are ready to go in. Absence from whatever cause involves a forfeiture of all rights. They only who have discharged the duty can participate in the reward. It is nothing to have the name or the outward appearance of a Christian, it is by action alone that sincerity is attested and approved. 

        We have thus considered the parable in its more general bearing and in its reference to the thought which underlies it, and we have endeavored to show how every circumstance enforces the warning which it is designed to urge upon men. But there is a special application in the light of which it is, as I have already mentioned, more frequently regarded. It is a solemn thought that there will be a final coming of the Bridegroom when those who lack oil shall go in vain to them that sell. The time for buying will be forever gone. There is a call continually sounding in our ears, with which it is our wisdom to comply. It is the call to participation in the mind and life of Christ, in His life of Sonship toward the Father, and of brotherhood toward men... It is the call to accept the salvation which He offers, which He purchased by His precious blood. Now: may this offer be accepted, now may the living waters be partaken of without money and without price, now has eternal life its abode among men. But He who now comes in mercy will hereafter come in judgment, and they who have pierced Him upon the earth shall look upon Him with despairing eyes. Woe unto those, whose darkened lamps shall then betray them, who come seeking entrance at the shut door, and meet the inexorable reply, “Verily, I say unto you, I know you not”! 

        Let us, brethren, learn to watch and to wait, as well as to struggle and contend, let us sleep in our armor, let us work with the sword girt upon our thigh. Let us have our lamps trimmed and burning and a constant supply of oil to replenish the sinking flame, that when the great cry arises at midnight, “Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him,” we may obey the call at once and without fear, that when we come to the everlasting doors we may find them open for us, and enter in, invited and willing and ready guests, to celebrate the marriage supper of the Lamb. The gates will not be for ever open, the invitation will not be for ever offered; some, in the full glory of that glorious festival, shall lay aside their flickering lamps in the place where no sun is needed, for the Lord God is the light of it; while others shall hear the distant echoes of the joy and catch faint glimmerings of the light as they wander like wandering stars in the blackness and darkness reserved for them for ever. 

 “Watch, therefore ; for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh,” Note.—Lord Lytton’s Vision of Virgins is a poetical rendering of this parable. A reprint of it, revised by the author, may be found in the New Testament volume of Mr. Garrett Horder’s Poets Bible.