The Oil of True Faith: A Parable of Preparedness Text: Matthew 25:1-13
Introduction: The Great Sorting
We live in a sentimental age, an age that has confused the kindness of God with a sort of grandfatherly indulgence. The modern church, in many quarters, has presented a gospel that is all welcome and no warning, all grace and no gravity. We have made the door to the kingdom wide, and the way easy, and have assured many of their salvation who have no biblical reason for such assurance. But Jesus, who is the embodiment of all grace and truth, tells stories that are designed to rattle our complacency. He tells parables not to make things easy, but to make them clear, and the clarity is often sharp enough to cut.
The parable of the ten virgins is one such story. It follows directly on the heels of the Olivet Discourse, where Jesus has been speaking of His return and the end of the age. This is not a gentle bedtime story; it is a bucket of ice water for a drowsy church. It is a story about a great sorting, a final division that happens within the visible community of believers. Notice, this is not a parable about the church and the world. All ten virgins are "virgins," set apart, waiting for the bridegroom. They are all, to an outside observer, in the same boat. They all have lamps. They are all part of the bridal party. They all profess to be waiting for the same event. And yet, when the moment of truth arrives, they are revealed to be two entirely different kinds of people.
This parable is a direct assault on the idea of nominal, cultural Christianity. It demolishes the notion that you can be saved by association, by being in the right building, by saying the right prayers, or by having the right friends. It teaches us that there is a profound difference between a mere profession of faith and a true possession of faith. And the difference, as we will see, is the oil. This parable forces us to ask a deeply personal and urgent question: Do I have oil in my lamp? Not, "do I have a lamp?" Not, "am I waiting with the others?" But, "do I have the oil of genuine, Spirit-wrought faith that will see me through the long delay and the midnight cry?"
The point is not to create a culture of fearful introspection, but rather a culture of diligent, joyful preparation. Eschatology is not given to us so we can draw up charts and timetables for the end of the world. It is given to us so that we might live wisely and faithfully in the here and now, prepared to meet the Lord whenever He might come. Whether He comes in the first watch or the last, whether He comes in our lifetime or a thousand years from now, the command is the same: Be ready.
The Text
"Then the kingdom of heaven may be compared to ten virgins, who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Now five of them were foolish, and five were prudent. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the prudent took oil in flasks along with their lamps. Now while the bridegroom was delaying, they all got drowsy and began to sleep. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said to the prudent, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the prudent answered, saying, ‘No, there will not be enough for us and you too; go instead to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they were going away to make the purchase, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding feast; and the door was shut. And later the other virgins also came, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open up for us.’ But he answered and said, ‘Truly I say to you, I do not know you.’ Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know the day nor the hour."
(Matthew 25:1-13 LSB)
Two Kinds of Apparent Believers (vv. 1-4)
The parable opens by setting the scene and introducing the central distinction.
"Then the kingdom of heaven may be compared to ten virgins, who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Now five of them were foolish, and five were prudent. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the prudent took oil in flasks along with their lamps." (Matthew 25:1-4)
Jesus says the kingdom of heaven "may be compared" to this situation. This is a story about the visible church in this age, between the first and second comings of Christ. The ten virgins represent those who profess faith in Christ. They are "virgins," which signifies a professed purity and separation from the world. They all have "lamps," which represent their outward profession of faith, their good works, their church attendance, their doctrinal affirmations. They are all engaged in the same activity: they "went out to meet the bridegroom," Jesus Christ.
From the outside, you cannot tell them apart. They look the same. They sound the same. They are in the same youth group, the same Bible study, the same covenant community. But Jesus, who sees the heart, immediately draws a sharp line through the middle of the group. Five were foolish, and five were prudent, or wise. This is a moral and spiritual distinction, not an intellectual one. The foolishness here is not a low IQ; it is a failure to prepare for the long haul. It is a shallow, superficial faith.
The difference is the oil. The foolish took their lamps, but no extra oil. Theirs is a religion of the moment. It works as long as the lights are on and the bridegroom is expected shortly. It is a faith that has not counted the cost. The prudent, however, were prepared for a delay. They "took oil in flasks along with their lamps." What is this oil? The oil is the substance of true, saving faith. It is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is the grace of God that not only justifies but also sanctifies and preserves. It is not something you can see on the outside, not at first. The foolish virgins had enough oil in their lamps to get them started, to make them look the part. But the wise had a reserve, a deep, internal reality that corresponded to their external profession.
The Delay and the Sudden Cry (vv. 5-7)
The parable now introduces the element of time, which serves to test and reveal the nature of each virgin's preparation.
"Now while the bridegroom was delaying, they all got drowsy and began to sleep. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps." (Matthew 25:5-7)
The bridegroom was "delaying." This is a crucial point for us. Two thousand years can feel like a long delay. Generations of Christians have lived and died expecting the Lord's return. This delay is a test. It sifts the church. It exposes those whose faith was based on immediate excitement or temporal blessings. And notice, "they all got drowsy and began to sleep." This is not the point of condemnation. The wise slept just as the foolish did. This simply reflects the reality of life in this age. We get on with our lives, we work, we marry, we raise children. The church goes through periods of quiet and routine. The sin was not in sleeping, but in sleeping without being prepared.
Then comes the shock: "at midnight," the most unexpected hour, the cry rings out. The arrival of the Lord will be sudden and world-shattering. It will interrupt the normal course of human history. There will be no time for last-minute preparations. The shout demands an immediate response: "Come out to meet him."
At this point, everyone wakes up. "Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps." The moment of accountability has arrived. Trimming the lamp means getting ready, making your profession visible and bright. And it is at this very moment that the fundamental difference between the two groups becomes terrifyingly apparent.
The Great Separation (vv. 8-12)
Here we see the tragic consequences of a lack of preparation and the impossibility of a last-minute fix.
"And the foolish said to the prudent, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the prudent answered, saying, ‘No, there will not be enough for us and you too; go instead to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they were going away to make the purchase, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding feast; and the door was shut." (Matthew 25:8-10)
The lamps of the foolish are "going out." Their superficial, external religion is failing them in the moment of crisis. Theirs was a faith of borrowed light, not an internal flame. In their panic, they turn to the prudent. "Give us some of your oil." This reveals a profound misunderstanding of the nature of saving faith. You cannot borrow a relationship with God. You cannot get into heaven on your parents' faith, or your pastor's faith, or your spouse's faith. The oil of the Holy Spirit is not transferable.
The reply of the wise is not selfish; it is realistic. "No, there will not be enough for us and you too." They are not being mean; they are stating a fact. Grace is not a commodity to be shared out like rations. Each person must have their own supply. Their advice, "go instead to the dealers and buy some," is a statement of the grim reality. The time for preparation is over. While they are scrambling, making a last-ditch effort to obtain what they should have secured long ago, the bridegroom comes.
And the consequences are final. Those who were ready, the prudent, the ones with oil, went in with him to the wedding feast. This is the great consummation, the joy of the Lord, eternal fellowship with Christ. And then two of the most terrible words in Scripture: "the door was shut." The opportunity is gone. The separation is complete and irreversible.
The foolish virgins return, but it is too late.
"And later the other virgins also came, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open up for us.’ But he answered and said, ‘Truly I say to you, I do not know you.’" (Matthew 25:11-12)
They cry, "Lord, lord," acknowledging His authority now that it is too late. This echoes Jesus' warning in the Sermon on the Mount: "Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 7:21). They had a form of godliness, but they denied its power. They knew about Him, but they did not know Him.
His response is not, "You didn't try hard enough," or "You made a mistake." It is far more devastating: "I do not know you." This is not a lack of information. It is a lack of relationship. He is the bridegroom, and this is a wedding feast. The central issue is one of intimate, covenantal knowledge. They were part of the external machinery of the wedding party, but they were strangers to the groom. This is the great tragedy of nominal Christianity: to live your whole life in the vicinity of the kingdom, only to find out at the end that you were never truly a part of it.
The Concluding Exhortation (v. 13)
Jesus concludes the parable not with a detailed allegorical breakdown, but with a sharp, direct command.
"Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know the day nor the hour." (Matthew 25:13)
This is the punchline. This is the application. "Stay awake" or "keep watch." Given that all ten virgins fell asleep, this cannot mean we are to avoid physical sleep or to live in a state of constant, anxious agitation. Rather, it means to be spiritually alert, to be prepared. It means to live in such a way that the Lord's return, whenever it comes, will not catch you by surprise. It is a call to diligent faithfulness in the present.
How do you stay awake? You make sure you have oil. You cultivate a deep, abiding relationship with Jesus Christ through His Word and prayer. You mortify sin. You love the brethren. You engage in the work of the kingdom, not as a way to earn your salvation, but as the necessary fruit of a salvation already possessed. You don't just carry a lamp; you make sure it is filled with the oil of the Holy Spirit, which is to say, with a living and active faith.
The uncertainty of the timing, "you do not know the day nor the hour", is not meant to paralyze us with fear, but to mobilize us in faithfulness. Because we do not know the hour, we must be ready at every hour. The Christian life is not a sprint to a finish line we can see; it is a marathon run in faith, with our eyes fixed on a bridegroom who has promised to come. Our task is not to predict His arrival, but to be prepared for it.