Stewarding Resources to Maintain Vigilance and Prudent Expectance of Christ’s Return
“Then the kingdom of heaven will be comparable to ten virgins, who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. “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. “The foolish said to the prudent, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ “But the prudent answered, ‘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. “Later the other virgins also came, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open up for us.’ “But he answered, ‘Truly I say to you, I do not know you.’ “Be on the alert then, for you do not know the day nor the hour. (Matthew 25:1-13)
Introduction
The basic thrust of this parable and the Parables of the Talents and the Minas is to be ready for Christ’s return. Where the Parables of the Talents and Minas focus on preparedness by multiplying the resources given by the Master, the Parable of the Ten Virgins is more about the use of resources to persevere in preparedness. In this essay we will look at the admonition Jesus gives and the practical ways one can remain vigilant and ready to the end.
Key Words and Phrases
Foolish – μωρός (Strong’s G3474 – mōros) foolish, stupid, impious, godless
Prudent – φρόνιμος (Strong’s G5429 – phronimos) intelligent, wise, prudent, i.e. mindful of one’s interests
Messianic Model – Focus on Jesus’ example
Some of the most visible ways we see Jesus modeling prudence is by the way He used His time and stewarded relationships.
Time Management – Jesus knew when to do things and when not to do things. He routinely mentions His hour has not yet come or has come. (John 2:4, John 12:23, John 13:1, John 17:1) When it was not time to enter into conflict that could potentially end in death, He moved on. (Matthew 12:14-15) And when it was time for the cross, He marched straight into Jerusalem. (Luke 18:31-33) Timing was something Jesus stewarded to perfection. (John 5:19) His three year ministry has lasted for over two millennia.
Stewarding Relationships – Jesus preached to and helped scores of people. His efforts to relate to people were both evident in population and geography. (Mark 6:44, Mark 3:7-8) But in the process of engaging so many people, He also saw the need to develop leaders to sustain the movement after He was gone. He helped many but invested deeply in a few. (Mark 3:14, John 17:4-6)
Key Theological Implications
The return of Christ is a focal point in Christian theology. Jesus talked about it extensively in His parables and in direct explanations with His disciples. (Matthew 24, 25, Luke 12:35-40, John 14:1-3) The primary theme of His exhortations was for His followers to recognize the signs of the times and to be ready for His return.
Although the Apostle Paul was only in Thessalonica for three Sabbaths (Act 17:2-3) before he was run out of town by jealous Jews, he included the return of Christ in his short-term discipleship. (2 Thessalonians 2:5) In both of his letters to the church he would give further instruction on the second coming of the Messiah. This was very early in the young converts’ education.
Although there are many different interpretations and opinions, the church’s emphasis on eschatology continues to this day. The one thing that we can all agree on is that Jesus said He would come back and that we should be ready for His return. His admonitions should both encourage us and draw our attention as kingdom citizens to faithful service and vigilant faith.
Contemporary Spiritual Significance
Many find end times theology confusing or at worst a nonessential doctrine. This is exactly what Jesus warned against. Although there have been many abuses of the doctrine; fear mongering, false predictions, and even those who claimed to be Christ themselves, It should not make us any less vigilant in preparing for His return.
But it would be good to talk about what this preparedness looks like. Readiness for His return does not look like a person with their eyes on the clouds and waiting for the trumpets to sound. At Christ’s ascension even the angels prodded those who watched His departure with these words;
“Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into the sky? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in just the same way as you have watched Him go into heaven.” (Acts 1:11)
In other words, “Get after it! Go do what He commissioned you to do!”
Jesus Himself makes it quite clear what being ready looks like by the many parables and admonitions He gave to His disciples. One of the clearest is found in the end of Matthew chapter 24;
“Who then is the faithful and sensible slave whom his master put in charge of his household to give them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that slave whom his master finds so doing when he comes.” (Matthew 24:45-46)
These are the faithful expectant stewards of the kingdom, those who are using their resources, gifts, talent, abilities, time, and yes, the whole of their lives to glorify God and advance His kingdom.
The Transformative Power of Being Ready for Christ’s Return
Proper anticipation and orientation of stewardship will cause the individual, the church, and the kingdom to grow. Anticipation creates both a sense of urgency and a focus on the things that really matter, the things that are eternal. Orientation facilitates a healthy intentionality in assessing and employing one’s contributions as a steward of God’s kingdom. Both of these take time to develop through learning, application, and character development. It is not a static proposition but rather a dynamic process that lasts a lifetime in pursuit of God. Growth and transformation are inevitable for the wise and prudent servant.
Conclusion
The Parable of the Virgins is an exhortation by Jesus to do what it takes to cross the finish line prepared for His return. It harkens back to the old adage that “the Christian life is not a sprint, it’s a marathon.” But it is not a leisurely stroll through the park either. We are to be busy at the Master’s work and patiently but fervently anticipating His return.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Oil in Our Lamps
The maple leaves spun down in lazy spirals, catching the October light as they settled onto the playground equipment. Sarah watched her three-year-old, Milo, navigate the climbing structure with the determined concentration of a mountain climber, his small hands gripping each rung with fierce deliberation.
“I swear he’s going to give me a heart attack before he turns four,” she murmured, not taking her eyes off him.
Beside her on the bench, Emma laughed, bouncing her six-month-old on her knee. “Wait until he discovers he can jump off things. That’s when the real fun begins.”
Jan smiled from her spot on the grass, where she was building a tower of blocks with Emma’s two-year-old twins. At forty-three, she was the oldest in their loose confederation of mothers, the one who’d been through the sleepless nights and toddler years twice over. Her boys were in middle school now, but she’d never forgotten what it felt like to need other women in the trenches with you.
“Remember when we thought pregnancy was the hard part?” This from Keisha, who was trying to convince her eighteen-month-old that wood chips were not, in fact, a food group.
Their Tuesday and Thursday meetings had started accidentally six months ago—Sarah and Jan arriving at the same time, week after week, until conversation became inevitable. Then Emma had joined, newly moved to Tacoma and desperate for adult interaction. Keisha had rounded out their group a month later, and now these mornings felt essential, like vitamins or coffee.
“Speaking of hard parts,” Emma said, her tone shifting to something more careful, “did anyone else’s church do that whole rapture sermon series? My mom sent me three YouTube videos about the end times this week, and I honestly don’t know what to think anymore.”
Sarah groaned. “My feed is full of that stuff. Half the people are stockpiling supplies, and the other half are arguing about pre-trib versus post-trib like it’s a sports rivalry.”
“What does that even mean?” Keisha asked, abandoning her wood chip patrol to join them. “I grew up Baptist, but we never talked about any of that.”
“It’s basically different theories about when Jesus comes back and how it all happens,” Emma explained. “Some people think believers will be taken up before things get bad, others think we’ll go through it. And everyone’s so sure they’re right.” She shifted the baby to her other knee. “My mom’s convinced it’s happening any day now. She keeps telling me to ‘be ready,’ but I don’t actually know what that means. Like, should I be doing something specific? Praying more? Going to more Bible studies?”
Jan had been quiet, letting the younger women articulate their confusion. She’d heard variations of this conversation before—the anxiety that modern end-times preaching could generate, the way it sometimes paralyzed people rather than mobilizing them. She thought of Jesus’ parable of the ten virgins, of oil and lamps and a bridegroom’s arrival.
“Can I tell you what I think?” Jan asked, and something in her voice made them all turn. Not authoritative, exactly, but grounded. Sure.
“Please,” Emma said. “Because right now it just feels like noise.”
Jan stood, brushing grass from her jeans, and moved to where she could see all their children at once—a habit that never died, even when your own kids were taller than you. “A few years ago, I got obsessed with this topic too. Read all the books, watched all the documentaries, tried to decode Revelation like it was a puzzle I could solve.” She smiled ruefully. “Drove my husband crazy. Finally, he asked me: ‘If Jesus came back tomorrow, would you be doing anything differently today?'”
Milo shrieked with delight as he reached the top of the climbing structure, and Sarah gave him a thumbs up before turning back to Jan.
“That question gutted me,” Jan continued. “Because honestly? I was spending all this time trying to figure out when and how, but I’d stopped focusing on who I was becoming. Jesus told this parable about ten women waiting for a bridegroom—five had enough oil for their lamps, five didn’t. The ones who ran out missed everything, not because they didn’t care, but because they hadn’t prepared for a long wait.”
“So we’re supposed to stockpile spiritual oil?” Keisha asked, half-joking.
“Not stockpile. Steward.” Jan picked up one of the blocks, turned it over in her hands. “Jesus wasn’t subtle in his parables. Over and over, he told people: ‘I’m coming back, so be busy with what I gave you to do.’ The oil isn’t about having all the right theological positions. It’s about faithfulness over time. It’s about…” She gestured at the playground, at their children, at the circle they’d formed. “It’s about this, actually.”
Emma frowned. “Hanging out at parks?”
“Building relationships. Investing in people. Using your gifts.” Jan looked at each of them in turn. “Sarah, you’re always the first to notice when someone’s struggling. Last month you showed up at my house with dinner because you somehow knew I’d had a terrible day. Emma, you’ve got this gift for asking questions that make people think deeper—I’ve watched you do it in our conversations. Keisha, you’re hilarious, but you also have this way of speaking truth that doesn’t feel judgmental. You made me rethink my whole approach to discipline just by telling a story about your grandmother.”
“I did?” Keisha looked genuinely surprised.
“You did.” Jan sat back down on the bench, and they instinctively drew closer. “The prudent virgins—the wise ones—they made sure they had what they needed for the long haul. Not because they were paranoid, but because they took the bridegroom seriously. They believed he was coming, so they lived accordingly.”
A breeze scattered more leaves across the playground. One of Emma’s twins toddled over and climbed into Jan’s lap, and she settled him there with practiced ease.
“But what does that actually look like?” Sarah pressed. “Because I’ll be honest, most days I’m just trying to keep everyone alive and fed.”
“Yes,” Jan said simply. “Exactly that. Jesus was really clear about this—the person who’s faithful in small things will be faithful in large things. You think keeping a three-year-old alive isn’t kingdom work?” She nodded at Milo, who was now attempting to hang upside down. “You’re raising a human being who could change the world. You’re showing him what love looks like, what patience looks like, what forgiveness looks like—even on the days when you’re doing it imperfectly.”
“Especially on those days,” Emma murmured.
“Right. And these mornings?” Jan gestured at their circle. “This is discipleship. This is how the early church actually functioned—people doing life together, helping each other follow Jesus in the middle of ordinary things. Paul spent three weeks in Thessalonica, and you know what he made sure to teach them? That Jesus was coming back. Not to scare them, but to give them purpose. To help them understand that everything they did mattered.”
Keisha had gone quiet, her usual energy stilled. “I think I’ve been so worried about doing it right that I forgot to just… do it.”
“That’s the trap,” Jan agreed. “Jesus spent three years modeling what preparedness looks like. He managed his time intentionally—knew when to engage and when to withdraw. He poured into masses of people, but he also invested deeply in twelve specific humans. He stewarded everything—relationships, opportunities, even his own life—with this incredible purposefulness.”
“I like that word. Purposefulness.” Sarah was watching Milo again, but Jan could see her really thinking. “It feels different than just being busy.”
“It is different. You can be busy and still run out of oil.” Jan shifted the twin on her lap so she could see them all better. “The foolish virgins weren’t careless because they didn’t care about the bridegroom. They just didn’t think about sustainability. They didn’t prepare for the marathon.”
“So how do we prepare?” Emma asked. “Practically, I mean.”
Jan considered. “For me, it’s meant being really honest about where I invest my energy. It’s meant saying no to good things sometimes so I can say yes to better things. It’s meant developing habits that keep me connected to God—not legalistic stuff, but real relationship. Reading Scripture not to check a box but to let it change me. Praying not just in crisis but in the ordinary moments.” She paused. “And it’s meant community, like this. People who’ll tell me when I’m drifting, who’ll remind me what matters.”
One of the twins started fussing, and Emma stood to retrieve him. “My mom would say that’s not enough. That I need to be more… I don’t know, on fire or something.”
“Maybe,” Jan said gently. “Or maybe your mom’s working out her own relationship with God, and what she needs looks different from what you need. The point isn’t to become your mom’s version of ready. It’s to become you, fully formed into who Jesus created you to be. That’s the transformation that matters.”
“Fully formed sounds exhausting,” Keisha said, but she was smiling.
“It’s a lifetime process,” Jan admitted. “And here’s the thing—nobody crosses the finish line perfect. The wise virgins weren’t wise because they never struggled or doubted. They were wise because they kept refilling their lamps. They kept doing the next right thing, day after day.”
Sarah’s phone buzzed—probably a reminder about naptime. They’d been here almost two hours already. “So when people ask if I’m ready for Jesus to come back, what I should really hear is: ‘Are you faithfully doing what you’re called to do right now?'”
“Yes,” Jan said. “And the answer doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be honest. Some days my answer is ‘I’m trying.’ Some days it’s ‘I forgot to try until just now.’ But I keep showing up. I keep asking God to reshape me. I keep…” She trailed off, watching their children play together, these small humans they were all trying to shepherd toward something good and true. “I keep remembering that Jesus’ return isn’t meant to terrify us. It’s meant to orient us. To remind us that everything we do today echoes into eternity.”
They gathered their things slowly—diaper bags and water bottles, shoes that had been kicked off, half-eaten snacks. The maple leaves continued their gentle descent around them.
“Same time Thursday?” Emma asked, and they all nodded.
As they walked toward the parking lot, Keisha fell into step beside Jan. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”
“We all need reminding,” Jan replied. “That’s why we keep showing up.”
Sarah’s voice carried back to them: “Milo, honey, we don’t eat leaves either.”
Jan laughed, the sound mingling with children’s voices and rustling leaves and the ordinary sacredness of an autumn morning in Tacoma. This, she thought. This was the oil in their lamps—these faithful friendships, these honest conversations, these small humans being loved into being. Not dramatic or flashy, but real. Sustainable. Enough for the journey, however long it took.
And if the Bridegroom came tomorrow, or next year, or decades from now? She would still have spent today well. Still have invested in what mattered. Still have been about the Master’s work, in a park on a Thursday morning, helping young mothers understand that readiness wasn’t about having all the answers.
It was about showing up. Again and again. With whatever oil you had.
And then, because grace was inexhaustible, letting Jesus refill your lamp.
ToBeLikeJesus 