Matthew 25 - and a bow to poet John Milton

How many sleeps 'til lilacs bloom, huh?

The apocalyptic vision of Matthew's Gospel continues in chapter 25. What the three stories there have in common is division of the righteous from the unrighteous at the second coming, the judgement and assignment of the judged to either eternal reward or punishment.

Take the parable of the ten virgins: five foolish and five wise. Plenty of interpretations can be found on line including here, but most bog down by fitting the story laboriously into previously-held end-times views. They end up overworking the analogy, applying every detail to specific, present-day reality, neglecting the significance of the context in which it was spoken.

If I've got it right, the hearers of the time would have visualized a Palestinian wedding with the groom coming to claim his bride followed by a procession back to the groom's family home for the celebration, the group's way lighted by bridesmaids—sort of—carrying lamps. You'd let the party down if your lamp went out en route. 

It continues the “be prepared, be expectant of the Kingdom's coming” motif of the previous chapter. If it was spoken to the disciple group in a teaching-learning setting, I expect they would have derived from it the intended message: don't lose heart if it takes longer than expected, don't be diverted from our purpose, don't risk the disappointment of being found napping when the Kingdom is breaking through.

A few interpretations I read take this parable as an indication that the wise virgins represent those in the born again, evangelical stream of the present-day Western Christian church while the foolish virgins are all those Christendom people of the past plus Catholics, Anglicans, Episcopalians, Mormons, SDAs, Mennonites, etc., etc. denominations out there that say “Lord, Lord,” but will not be recognized by the returning Messiah at the last trump. The, assumption being, of course, that at the last judgement, verdicts will be denominationally determined: judgement by formula.

The wise virgins in this version are a really exclusive club.

The parable of the talents seems less difficult at first glance, but should probably not be studied without some reference to poet John Milton's On His Blindness. Responsibility seems to be handed out here in more and less demanding amounts and those who invest whatever talent or resource they've been given, who put them to work, are rewarded. Those who fail to do so are punished. 

It can seem a very corporate, stock market kind of relationship between resources investment, profit and loss so that I can imagine it as a motivator for the entrepreneurial among us. It may also be as overworked as the first parable and it's hearers may, rightly or wrongly, have simply acknowledged through it that Jesus had expectations of them based on what he'd given them.

John Milton went blind, and wondered aloud what his handicap would mean in terms of the parable of the talents, for instance. Are the blind, the lame, the shy, the slow-of-speech, the mentally challenged even considered in the admonition to be fruitful in the kingdom? His conclusion, “they also serve who stand and wait” is a significant sidebar to this parable, I think. What I gather from the parable is that we should recognize and encourage everyone to be confident in the exercise of their gifts, no matter what their “size,” and reward them for it. Too much talent is unnecessarily wasted.

And then the sheep and the goats parable. “Given a choice—and knowing both animals—I'd much rather be a goat,” Agnes said once. Here, the animals are irrelevant; it could as easily have been cows and horses for all the good the imagery does. Bluntly put, the final judgement in this parable will hinge on how well we did regarding the second great commandment back in Matthew 12. Like the other two, it seems harsh and merciless, the dividing as arbitrary as NAZI guards separating Jews for either work camp or extermination.

There's some reason to believe that in this parable, “whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” refers to the disciples and followers whom Jesus previously called his brothers and sisters; this would then be a judgement upon those who persecute Christians. In my world , though, it's generally been seen as a pretty clear indication that Christian duty leans heavily toward generosity to our fellow human being, particularly those who need our help most.

I close with the entire text of Milton's On His Blindess. I consider it scripture. It's in my cannon.

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."