The Ten Virgins: Matthew 25:1-13

Matthew 25:1‑13
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Tins parable describes prophetically the conduct of professing Christians in relation to the hope of the Lord’s coming. It is most certain that when the Son of God went up into the Father’s house He left behind Him the promise to come again, and gather home to Himself all those for whom He died (John 14:3). For the fulfillment of this, all should have looked with fervent desire.
“Then shall the Kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom.
And five of them were wise, and five were foolish” (Matt. 25:1-13). Christianity is a heavenly order of things. When it really engages a man’s heart it sets him entirely outside of the present evil world, with his face towards the glory of God. The fact that his Saviour is no longer here has spoiled the world for the Christian. A stranger below, he waits for Christ’s coming from above. It is Satan’s unceasing aim to pervert the heavenly character of Christianity; hence the worldly employments with which religious leaders fill the minds of those who follow them—bazaars, concerts, and the like.
The virgins are divinely divided into two companies—the wise and the foolish; the essential difference being that the one had oil in their vessels with their lamps, and the other had not. Oil is the emblem of the Holy Spirit, who is God’s great gift to all who believe the Gospel (Eph. 1:13). He who has not God’s Spirit is no Christian, whatever his pretensions (Rom. 8:9). “While the bridegroom tarried they all slumbered and slept.” The hope of the Lord’s coming for His people, which so fired the souls of believers in the apostles’ day, became lost when the apostles were no more. Since that time men in Christendom have spoken only of the day of judgment at the end of all things. The “Te Deum,” with other ancient writings, acknowledges this solemn truth, but of the Saviour’s descent into the air to call up His saints not a trace can be found in the literary remains of centuries.
But the midnight cry has gone forth. The nineteenth century witnessed a revival of the hope. From one end of Christendom to the other the cry now resounds: “Behold the Bridegroom; go ye out to meet Him.” Under the mighty impulse of the midnight cry multitudes of true believers― “wise virgins” have aroused themselves, and have shaken themselves free of worldly associations, religious or otherwise, and have resumed the original waiting attitude of the Church of God. The foolish virgins are also full of activity, though in a wrong direction. Realizing that something is lacking, they are redoubling their religious zeal in the hope of fitting themselves thereby for the Bridegroom’s presence. Sacraments and formalities of every kind are their confidence and stay.
Our parable shows that when the bridegroom came, “they that were ready went in with him to the marriage, and the door was shut.” Readiness consists, not in attention to religious formalities, but in unfeigned faith in the Saviour’s name, and in His atoning blood. Only those of whom this is true will find themselves on the right side of the door when the critical moment arrives. Those outside appeal in vain: “Lord, Lord, open to us.” But one reply is possible: “Verily, I say unto you, I know you not.” Both true and nominal Christians, like the wise and foolish virgins are alike in their profession, but the return of the Lord from heaven will make clearly manifest how deep is the moral gulf which really separates the one class from the other.