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
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| Parable of the 10 virgins from our Sunday School blog here. |
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 themselves 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 important, it is 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 so replete 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 referring 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 Savior’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 impressive 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 armor. 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 bridegroom. 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.
