Pentecost 24 – 2026
Matthew 25:1-13
Marian Free
In the name of God Source of all being, Eternal Word, Spirit of Life. Amen.
I imagine that many of you have read the Narnia series by C. S. Lewis. Even though the stories are written for children, they contain within them a great deal of wisdom, wisdom that has informed my own faith. The 3rd book in the series, The Horse and his Boy tells the story of Shasta, a young Narnian who was washed up on the shores of the neighbouring country, Calormen. Shasta was raised by the poor, cruel fisherman who found him. He was made to work long hours and often suffered beatings when the man had had a bad day. One day, when he overheard the fisherman negotiating to sell him, he wandered over to where the buyer’s horse was tethered and told his troubles to the horse. When the horse spoke, the boy was startled but taken with the horse’s dream to escape to the land of joy and freedom – Narnia. He untethered the horse and together they set off.
At about the same time, a young princess, Aravis, was desperate to escape a marriage to a much older man. In order to escape, she drugged the maid who was responsible for her. Shortly after their escape the two children met, and after some discussion agreed to travel together with their Narnian (speaking) horses.
Towards the end of their journey, they learn that the Calormen army is planning an attack on Narnia and they determine to speed up and to warn the Narnians. As they gallop towards the border and relative safety, they are chased by a huge lion which frightens the horses into galloping even faster. The lion is faster still and before they reach safety, it reaches out and draws its claws across Avaris’ back seriously injuring her.
The children make it to safety, but the injured Aravis must remain with the hermit with whom they found protection. Shasta continues alone. One night, he and his horse both feel a presence beside them. When Shasta has the courage to speak, he tells the lion (for that is who it is) the story of their adventure including their numerous terrifying encounters with lions. “There was only one lion, for I am that lion,” said the lion. “Then it was you who wounded Aravis,” says Shasta. “It was I.” “But what for?” “Child,” said the Voice, “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his (sic) own.”
Those of you who know Narnia will know that the lion, Aslan, represents the divine.
That is a long introduction, and you may be wondering what on earth it has to do with this morning’s parable about the 10 young women. Let me explain.
Towards the end of Matthew’s gospel, we encounter some grim predictions and several bleak parables which foreshadow the return of Jesus, judgement and the end of the world as we know it. It is usual to interpret these as parables of warning and judgement; a call for watchfulness and readiness. As I reread the parables, it occurred to me that while they are indeed parables about our need to ready, they are also parables about individual responsibility and how we build and maintain our relationship with God.
This I think is the point of the confronting story about the young women. At its heart is relationship, not watchfulness. Ten young women are waiting for a bridegroom, five have brought extra oil with them. The wait is so long that all the women fall asleep. When the bridegroom arrives, the five who had no oil are still at the market. When they return and knock, they are not castigated because of the oil. They are locked out because the bridegroom does not know them. His response is not: “Where were you when I came?” OR “why didn’t you think to bring enough oil?”. He answers the knock by saying: “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”
“Truly I tell you I do not know you.” Ouch -now, there is the sting.
Despite what we might have learnt in Sunday School, we know next to nothing about the wedding traditions of first century Palestine and the parable is frustratingly short on detail. So, we don’t know where the groom has been or why he is so late. The key point is that five young women were not present when the groom arrived, and having been locked out are not let in.
The parable seems to be telling us that our relationship with the groom is as important, if not more, than our preparedness. Relationship is personal and cannot be given to or shared with someone else. Even if we wish to we cannot give our oil (our faith) away. Someone who has no faith can’t buy or share ours. We can encourage others to have faith, but we cannot make them enter a relationship with God. We can share what we know, and the riches that come from faith, we can encourage our friends and families to live in such a way that they would not feel out of place in the company of all the saints, but ultimately, we cannot force them into a relationship with the living God. Faith can be shared but it not transferable – we can’t take some of ours and give it to another[1].
This parable is often used to encourage (threaten) people to always be on their best behaviour. In reality what the parable is trying to do is to remind us that faith is less about what we do (how good and bad we are), but more about our trust in God’s love for us and our willingness to return that love. It is our hearts that we need to prepare and our relationship with God that needs to be built. Lives spent deepening and strengthening that relationship, have no need to fear that the door will be locked.
[1] I have borrowed this idea from Chelsea Harmon. Centre for Excellence in Preaching https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2026-11-08/matthew-251-13-4/
