Summary: Jesus tells a story in Matthew 25 about 10 women invited to be bridesmaids. They arrive at the destination only to discover that the groom has not arrived, but is expected at some unknown hour of the evening. So, the girls wait and wait. Each of them has a lamp fueled by oil. But five of these girls are going to run out of gas, and these same five are going to miss the party!
A few years ago, a newly married couple in Germany started their drive back from their honeymoon location in France to their home in Berlin. Late at night they pulled into a highway petrol station so the groom could fill up the tank. His bride was sleeping in the back of the van. While he was pumping gas, however, she awoke and quietly slipped out to use the restroom.
The groom finished filling the tank, and then climbed back into the driver's seat and headed down the highway. Two-and-a-half hours later, he suddenly realized something was wrong.
His bride wasn't in the van! He'd evidently left the station 100 miles earlier without her!1
It's a funny story, but it also reveals something about how easily people can lose track of what matters. Sometimes we assume everything is fine until we suddenly discover that something essential is missing.
Jesus tells a story in Matthew 25 that has a similar sense of surprise. Ten bridesmaids are waiting for a wedding celebration to begin. Each of them has a lamp fueled by oil. But five of these girls are going to run out of gas, and these same five are going to miss the party!
To understand this parable, one needs to look at the three distinct stages of a first-century Jewish wedding: the betrothal, the preparation and the procession.2
First, the betrothal (erusin): In Jesus' day, a wedding began with a legal contract called a ketubah. The groom's father would pay a "bride price" (mohar) to the bride's family. Once the contract was signed and a cup of wine was shared, the couple was legally married, but they didn't yet live together or consummate the marriage.
Then, the preparation period: After the betrothal, the groom returned to his father's house for approximately one year. During this time, he'd build an addition onto the family home -- a bridal chamber -- to house his new family. Meanwhile, the bride remained in her home, wearing a veil in public to show she was spoken for, and preparing her wedding garments. Crucially, the exact date of the groom's return was often unknown. Tradition suggests that only the groom's father could decide when the living quarters were finally ready for the bride.
Finally, the procession and feast (nissuin): When the father gave the word, the groom would set out, often at night, to "fetch" his bride. He was accompanied by friends and musicians, and their arrival was announced by a shout or the blast of a shofar or ram's horn. The bridesmaids (or attendants) were responsible for waiting with oil-fed lamps (often torches made of rags wrapped around a stick) to light the path. They would join the groom's procession as it wound through the village, eventually leading the bride back to the groom's home. Once the party arrived and entered the house, the doors were shut, and a feast began that could last seven days.
One of the most curious details in this parable is the delay. "As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept." The text never explains why the groom was late or the festivities delayed. Maybe his camel contracted "Surra," a parasitic disease carried by flies.3 Perhaps the groom suffered a wardrobe malfunction when his tzitzit (ritual tassels) got tangled or his ceremonial belt broke. Or maybe the musicians lost the music to "Od Yishoma," the festive and lively song traditionally sung to escort the newlywed bride and groom away from the chuppah. Whatever the reason, the bridegroom doesn't arrive when everyone expects him to arrive, and this delay changes everything.
At first the bridesmaids are alert. They're ready. But as the hours pass, fatigue sets in. Eventually every one of them nods off. This detail is important. Notice that Jesus doesn't criticize them for sleeping. In fact, all ten fall asleep. Even the wise ones.
The problem in the story isn't weariness. The situation becomes a crisis when the delay lasts longer than expected.
The people of God have lived with this tension since the Ascension. Jesus spoke often about the coming of the kingdom of God, and his first followers expected that moment to arrive quickly. Yet generation after generation has continued to live in the space between promise and fulfillment.
Faith, it turns out, is not simply a matter of enthusiasm at the beginning. It's the long obedience of people who keep trusting God even when the night seems to stretch on longer than expected. The delay in the parable reminds us that discipleship is not about predicting when God will act. It is about remaining faithful while we wait.
When midnight finally arrives, the entire story turns on a single detail: oil. "Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps."
At first, the difference between the two groups seems minor. All ten bridesmaids have lamps. All ten are waiting. All ten appear ready. But only five brought extra oil.
This small decision becomes decisive when the cry rings out at midnight: "Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him." Suddenly everyone wakes up. Lamps are trimmed. The procession's about to begin. And then the foolish bridesmaids realize their lamps are sputtering. Their fuel is gone! All heck breaks loose! It's madness at midnight!
In a world accustomed to 24-hour convenience stores and emergency solutions, we tend to assume that we can usually fix problems at the last minute. Running low on gas? There's a station just down the road. Need groceries? The store is open late. Almost anything can be replenished with a quick stop. But in this parable, the moment arrives when there's no time left to refill the tank.
The foolish women ask the wise ones for oil. But those dear souls firmly refuse. "No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves."
But certain forms of readiness cannot be transferred from one person to another. A relationship with God cannot be outsourced. Faith cannot be stockpiled by someone else on our behalf. At some point each person must decide what it means to keep their own lamp burning.
To return to an important detail referenced earlier: "All of them became drowsy and slept." This sentence feels surprisingly honest. Waiting is exhausting.
We know what it's like to wait for things that seem slow in coming: answers to prayer, healing, reconciliation, justice. The longer we wait, the easier it becomes to grow weary.
Disciples are believers who live in the gaps. The gap between the first coming of Jesus and second. The gap between promise and fulfillment. The gap between suffering and reward. The gap between faith and science. We believe that God's at work in the world, but the days pass, and sometimes the waiting stretches longer than we expected.
Jesus' parable doesn't condemn the bridesmaids for becoming tired. Even the wise ones fall asleep. The difference between them lies elsewhere.
Jesus is asking us to think about what it means to cultivate a faith that can endure the long night. Spiritual practices like prayer, worship, service and study are not merely religious habits. They're ways of replenishing the oil that keeps the lamp of faith burning.
They prepare us for the long waiting that discipleship often requires.
The parable ends with a sobering image. While the foolish bridesmaids are away searching for oil, the bridegroom arrives. "... those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet, and the door was shut." Later, the others return from their quick trip to 7-Eleven and knock on the door. "Lord, lord, open to us." But the groom isn't having it: "Truly I tell you, I do not know you."
The story closes with Jesus' warning: "Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour."
The point of the parable is not to frighten people with the image of a closed door. It's to remind us that faith cannot be postponed indefinitely. The life of discipleship is something that must be cultivated over time. It's the quiet work of keeping the lamp burning while the night stretches on.
Which brings us back to that story of the German couple at the gas station. The groom eventually realized what had happened. He turned around and drove back down the highway to retrieve his bride who had been waiting patiently the entire time. She wasn't holding a flaming torch soaked in oil. But she was waiting for his return.
The kingdom of heaven, Jesus says, belongs to those who wait in readiness -- not just at the beginning of the journey, but through the long night of waiting.
Let's make sure there's enough oil for the road ahead.