For the purposes of this essay, I will use a labeling scheme similar to Van Inwagen. I am going to define a miracle as that phenomenon which departs from natural law within an interval of “t1 to t2”, (t1 being the moment of the initiation of the event departing from natural law, and t2 being the moment this event ends), and label it A, and disassociate it from that which happens after t2, i.e. the consequence of the said miracle.[1] I will define “t2 to the present” to refer to the consequences of the said miracle A, and label this B.
We live in a world which places great precedence on science, and, in fact, relies on it to an extent. Who now sees a ball fall to the ground and thinks of a different explanation for its proclivity towards the Earth than that of Newton’s laws of gravity? Furthermore, we use these laws to help design such things as airplanes and grandfather clocks, relying on the idea that these laws will never change. This may be so, but what if the grandfather clock’s weights being pulled towards the Earth by the force of gravity were the consequence B of a miracle A? This would mean that if A had never occurred, B may or may not have happened, possibly resulting in a consequence in which the laws of gravity were perceived to be broken. By Hume’s and Van Inwagen’s definitions of a miracle, this would be considered a miracle. However, this is clearly not a miracle, and would, in fact, be how the world would function in the absence of miracles. If the very underpinning of the laws of gravity (and indeed any other scientific or observed law) is incessant strings of miracles A[2] setting off expected consequences B, then the absence of miracles A might or might not cause a complete undermining of any and all perceived laws in science. A good analogy to use for this scenario would be to think of the miracles A as a kind of “fuel” for the consequences B (the laws of nature as we currently understand them). If the fuel were to “run out,” (if the miracles were to stop occurring) it would be quite plausible that the consequences B would be unable to occur.
A scientific world-view would not make belief in the occurrence of miracles irrational. It seems that there is an infinite amount of knowledge about our world that we do not yet know, or have not discovered. For example, we still have not found a definitive answer to the question of what is the “smallest particle,” or subdivision of any body. Time seems to be infinitely dividable, challenging our ability to set arbitrary units upon it. Thus, conjectures such as the ones I am making regarding the origins of the laws of nature are still possible, given that we still do not know what causes them on a fundamental level. It is equally possible that we cannot know, a conjecture surely harrowing to scientists. The end of scientific inquiry occurs when the final underpinning of our experience is understood, one which is possibly unobservable or miraculous and, if indeed it is, must be accepted as such given our experience. If indeed the underpinning is miraculous, by its very nature, we should not assume that the occurrence of miracles is a constant. Instead, we should assume that, at any time, miracles may not occur, and this would not be surprising. Thus, we should not be surprised if the consequence of a lack of this underpinning, miracles, were the breaking of natural laws. Perhaps a contrived story could further illustrate and make plain this assertion. Let’s say that Mark is sitting at an empty desk, when, all of a sudden, a book spontaneously appears in front of him on the desk. Surely, Mark would be surprised, as he is expecting his world to constantly conform to the laws of nature and this is contrary to them. However, now that this event has occurred, Mark can begin to realize that the laws of nature themselves could be seen as laws which were assumed by man to be constant, when in fact, they are not. After realizing this, any other breach in the laws of nature that Mark might encounter would not surprise him, as a fundamental change in his view and understanding of the world has taken place. In this way, if science reaches a point where the underpinning of our experience is fundamentally and essentially unobservable or miraculous, there is no way for us to ever be able to place such complete predictive power on the consequences of such unobservable or miraculous elements (such as the laws of physics, gravity, or any other natural law). We would need to include, after the formulation of a law of nature, a clause which states that “the law is true with the condition that the essentially unobservable elements which make up all aspects of our experience remain in a state that is consistent with how they have always been, or interchange with any state which would produce the same consequences that remaining in the same state would.” This clause, given that we still do not know the smallest, most fundamental particle that makes up that which we experience, is perfectly acceptable. Thus, a scientific world-view incorporating these clauses would not find a belief in miracles problematic or irrational. Mackey states, in his Miracles and Testimony, that “we are fairly good at detecting dishonesty, insincerity, and lack of conviction, and we readily reject what we are told by someone who betrays these effects. But we are strongly inclined simply to accept, without question, statements that are obviously assured and secure.” (Mackey 426) This is the cause of Mark’s initial surprise. Because scientists often make statements about the laws of nature with such certainty, this causes us to be “strongly inclined” to take their words as the fullness of truth. Scientists should not, however, continue to have this air of certainty, because, as I have pointed out, many things have yet to be discovered (and may even be undiscoverable) which could completely reverse their idea of the very fundamentals of our experience.
In conclusion, the fact that we still do not know the smallest particle or the shortest duration of time leads me to believe that (based on the history of science finding ever smaller particles) the smallest particle and shortest duration of time is unobservable. Given this lack of information, it is possible that miracles could be occurring to such a particle (as Van Inwagen surmises) that we are unable to observe. If this is the case, and if it is also the case (a highly likely proposition) that the consequences of this miraculous change in the causal power of this unobservable particle follow the natural law, it could be stated that, though we do not (and cannot) know for certain the nature of the miracle, we can say with certainty that, unless we know the nature of this smallest and most fundamental particle (an impossibility), we cannot be certain that the laws of nature (or indeed, any law obtained by scientific method or life experience) are constant.
Works Cited
Mackey, J. L. “Miracles and Testimony.” Philosophy of Religion: An Anthology. By Louis P. Pojman and Michael C. Rea. Sixth ed. Boston, MA: Wadsworth/Cengage Learning, 2012. 425-432. Print.
Van Inwagen, Peter. “Of ‘Of Miracles’.” Philosophy of Religion: An Anthology. By Louis P. Pojman and Michael C. Rea. Sixth ed. Boston, MA: Wadsworth/Cengage Learning, 2012. 415-425. Print.
[1] Van Inwagen combines t1-t2 with “the early stages of any such ‘divergence’” (Van Inwagen, 416), which, “stages” being plural, would include the most direct consequence(s) of the miracle occurring immediately after t2.
[2] Again, given that the miracle occurs in an extremely brief amount of time (an amount shorter than that degree of time which can be observed) to a particle smaller than that which can be observed.
On the Universal Applicability of Truths Gained by Religious Experience under Certain Conditions.
First, I would like to argue that perceptual beliefs based on religious experiences are at least equally valid as perceptual beliefs based on sensory experience. I will do this by means of responding to objections.
Objection I. If not everyone has religious experiences, how can we determine that God exists? Why then should religion be universally accepted?
Answer. The ability to have sensory experience is not also universal, yet it is universally applied; for instance, a completely blind man never having seen colors has no evidence to support the belief of their existence. However, if he believes in their existence, he has come to such a conclusion based on evidence drawn from other people’s sensory experiences. Explaining colors entirely to a blind man is impossible; and for the blind man, the existence of color is something ineffable. The blind man cannot fully comprehend the nature of color, yet this does not preclude its existence. If for one man color is ineffable and incomprehensible, and for another it is describable and understandable, nothing prevents God, Whom only those with the ability to have religious experiences are able to perceive, from being describable and understandable to some,[1] and ineffable and incomprehensible to others. Thus, colors exist as surely as God exists, and vice versa. Religion should be universally accepted just as our perceptual beliefs about our world are accepted. Our world is physically accessible and understandable only through the senses; and, as such, “…we have no cognitive access [to our physical world] that is not based on sense perception.” (Alston 242) Our reliance on—and restriction to—sense perception for perceiving and understanding our world in the physical does not mean that understanding the divine must also be restricted to sense perception.[2] Just as a blind man understands as much as he can about what the world looks like by means of hearing a description of it by a man who can see, so too are people who do not have the proclivity of having religious experiences able limitedly understand God through revealed religion and by those to whom religious experiences are common. In fact, it could be said that the basis of religion is a text received by means of religious experience.
Objection II. Accounts of religious experiences are diverse and often contradictory. For example, some religions hold that there is but one God, while others hold that there are many. As for sensory experience, all agree on the perceptual belief. Given this, how can religion be universally accepted?
Answer. The question of religious pluralism often divides people who maintain that their religion is the true religion. This is belief is not a problem in itself; the problem arises when, given that there is one true religion, yet do different false religions claim that title. I would like to argue, however, that all religious experiences are experiences of that one true religion, but due to a person’s preconceived notions of what he believes, the religious experiences are corrupted subconsciously so that they may fit into the model of his religion (if his religion is a false religion). Due to this corruption, the information extrapolated from such a corrupted version of the religious experience is contradictory to another false religion, and may even be contradictory to the true religion which produced it in the first place.
One way we can tell that all religious experiences are initially (or “prima-facie”, to use Alston’s term (Alston 242)) from the same source, that is, the one true religion, is that it becomes clear after comparing accounts of religious experiences that there are some commonalities. For example, let’s say a man who professes Buddhism has a religious experience. The religious experience (unadulterated) has to do with a single, omnipotent God, and not many Gods. The Buddhist would then subconsciously adapt the religious experience to be about his polytheistic faith by interpreting it to be about multiple gods. This adaptation is what causes and perpetuates the existence and prevalence of false religions, and the strife and turmoil that arises from their existence.
Second, I would like to counter William James’s idea that a religious experience is not applicable universally. James comes up with criteria for use in determining whether something is a religious experience or not. However, he does not have any criteria which help determine whether a religious experience is corrupted from the original unadulterated religious experience of the one true religion, or whether it is prima-facie. James’s criterion of ineffability, while it could be true that religious experiences in the prima-facie stage are unable to be communicated fully, this does not mean that an acknowledgement of the fact that one had a religious experience is impossible. What I am arguing here is that the very acknowledgement of a religious experience is applicable universally in that it provides evidence for the existence of the possibility of religious experience to those who never have them. For something to be completely ineffable, its very existence would not be able to be expressed. The fact that we do have many historical and current accounts of religious experiences tells us that they are not purely ineffable; they are able to be acknowledged at least in their basest form: as a religious experience. If it were possible to express the prima-facie religious experience, this would be ideal, and should be universally accepted, but as it is not possible, the best way to utilize accounts of religious experiences is to compare them with each other and to deduce what the core similarities are. These core similarities are as close as we can get to an account of the prima-facie religious experience. This should be applied universally, as the sample of the religious experiences used in deducing the prima-facie religious experience should be all-inclusive. Practically every major religion has at least one god or higher power, so deducing the simple fact that “God exists” from an all-inclusive sample of religious experiences would be easy. Thus, given this logic, it should be universally applicable that God exists.
Conclusion. It is clear now that religious experiences should not be judged by the same set of standards as sense perceptions. Religious experiences are part of an entirely separate class of experience than physical sense perception. At the present moment, the realm of religion and the realm of the physical are not connected, and they must be accessed using different faculties. Instead of applying a scientific method to religious experiences as we would to sense perceptions, we should create a standard of verification to determine how corrupted from the prima-facie religious experience any given report of a religious experience. The standard should be the deduction of commonalities of a large non-biased sample of religious experience, and if a given religious experience contains more commonalities to the standard, it can be judged to be less corrupt than if it had less commonalities, in which case it would be judged more corrupt.
Works Cited
Alston, William P. "Perceiving God." Philosophy of Religion: An Anthology. By Louis P. Pojman and Michael C. Rea. Sixth ed. Boston, MA: Wadsworth/Cengage Learning, 2012. 241-247. Print.
James, William. "Mysticism." Philosophy of Religion: An Anthology. By Louis P. Pojman and Michael C. Rea. Sixth ed. Boston, MA: Wadsworth/Cengage Learning, 2012. 224-241. Print.
Footnotes
1. Here, I am assuming that God is readily revealing Himself to be understood and experienced by those who have religious experiences.
2. I am not saying that the divine cannot ever be perceived using sense perception.
The Question of the Importance of Works in Being Chosen for Salvation.
In the Revelation of St. John, in the twentieth chapter, St. John prophesies that there will be two resurrections of the dead: one for those who
...were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the word of God, and which had not worshipped the beast, neither his image, neither had received his mark upon their foreheads, or in their hands; and they lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years (Rev. 20:4)[1]
and one for the “rest of the dead” (Rev. 20:5) who shall be “judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works” (Rev. 20:12). This raises a question about what role works play in salvation. St. James notes that “faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone” (James 1:17), and rhetorically asks, “can faith save him?” (James 1:14). Conflict arises when one considers what St. Paul writes in the First Epistle of St. Paul the Apostle to Timothy. He writes that “…Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief” (1 Timothy 1:15). This is problematic; if the very purpose of Christ’s sacrifice was to save them whose sin is their very identity, which would make works irrelevant. A sinner with many works and a sinner with few works are both equally sinners, and thus, equally atoned for. In the passage from Revelation, there are two resurrections; one for martyrs and one for the rest of the dead. In the second resurrection, the dead are judged according to their works as written in the Book of Life. However, with martyrs, the idea of works is not even brought up. If one were to make the case for works being necessary for all men to be saved, how could it be that the act of being martyred was a work? Perhaps the solution to this problem can be found in a different interpretation of how works arise. Perhaps having faith (as is described of the martyrs, they believed in the “witness of Jesus, and…the word of God” [Rev. 20:4]) inevitably produces works, regardless of intention. If this be the case, then it is not by the amount of works that the dead are judged and chosen, but the depth of their faith.
[1] All scriptural citations are taken from the Authorized King James Version of the Holy Bible.
A Systematic Interpretation of the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins.
The parable of the wise and foolish virgins, Matthew 25:1-13, is rich in allegory, full of possibility for interpretation, but also a bit problematic. Dean O. Wenthe, in his essay “The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids”, notes that the parable “has been interpreted in a wide variety of ways. One scholar has understood it as an attack upon the hypocrisy of Jewish teachers in Jesus day. Still another says that it can only be properly understood if we assume that the setting is Passover-night. Bultmann and Donfried regard it as an allegorical creation of the early church” (Wenthe 9).[1] I would like to systematically put forward my own interpretation of the parable, give examples of other avenues of possible interpretations as they might arise, and analyze what Jesus’ concluding admonition means in the context of my interpretation. The context of this parable is important in determining what type of information it conveys. Wenthe notes that “this parable is placed in a series of eschatological admonitions” (Wenthe 9), so it is highly probable that the content is similar. If the parable be indeed eschatological, this would inform the range of possible interpretations we could give it.
For the interpretation I would like to put forward, let us first break up and unpack each analogical unit of the parable, and define them, verse by verse. In the first verse, we are introduced to the central analogy found in this parable: “Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins…”[2] The fact that the kingdom of heaven is being associated with virginity is interesting: the fact that the kingdom can have this quality must mean that it can lose its virginity. This prompts us to ask the question: What does virginity mean in this context? A virgin kingdom is a kingdom which has yet to be consummated: its day is yet to come. A spiritual marriage must first take place, if this is the case. This also brings up the idea that, although the kingdom of heaven is everlasting (2 Peter 1:11), there will be a single event which “consummates” the kingdom. Before determining what that event will consist of, let us continue to define the rest of the analogical units for the purposes of this interpretation. Still in the first verse, we are introduced to the “lamps”. The symbolism of a lamp is rich. Scripture uses lamps as a symbol in another text: the psalmist states that “[t]hy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Ps. 119:105). Let us thus define the lamps that the virgins carry (if they are lighted or able to be lighted, as the psalm states that the lamp provides “light unto my path”) as the same “word” mentioned in the psalm, God’s word. Whether this “word” is that of God the Father, Christ Jesus, both, or God Almighty (the whole Trinity at once), is open to further interpretation, but is tangential to our discussion.[3] For our purposes, we will label it as simply the “word of God”, and not explicate it further. Whenever prophecy is recounted in Scripture, it is prefaced by the action of the word of God coming upon the prophet. Thus, included within this “word of God” are all the sayings and prophecies of the Hebrew prophets (1 Chr. 7:3, 2 Chr. 11:2, Luke 3:2, Rev. 1:2). Other Scriptures equate the “word of God” with “the counsel of the most High” (Ps. 107:11), “the law of our God” (Is. 1:10); it is eternal (Is. 40:8); man’s sustenance (Luke 4:4); only able to be heard by those who are “of God” (John 8:47); that which is spoken by men who have received the spirit of Pentecost (Acts 4:31); the Gospel (Acts 13:44); not the kingdom of God itself (1 Cor. 4:20); the “helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit” (Eph. 6:17); a sanctifying force (1 Tim. 4:5); it is “quick, and powerful…a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart” (Heb. 4:12); it “framed” the worlds (Heb. 11:3); it is the “King Of Kings, And Lord Of Lords” (Rev. 12:11-16). Thus, it seems the “word of God” (and, consequently, the lighted lamps), is Christ Jesus Himself in the context of His interactions with His creation. Still in the first verse, we are also introduced to “the bridegroom”. The bridegroom is a very common description of Jesus Christ, in the context that He is yet to come.[4] Thus, upon determining the parable is eschatological, reading the first verse, and keeping our definitions in mind, we can state that this parable is possibly communicating to us what constitutes the kingdom of heaven. The movement of the lighted lamps to “meet the bridegroom” is also interesting in this interpretation, as we have defined both to mean Jesus Christ. However, the lighted lamps would be Christ proclaimed, and the bridegroom, Christ expectant. This would imply a reunification within Christ, with Himself. It is not only this, however; the bearers of the lighted lamps also partake in this unification, as we shall see later. The fact that all the virgins possess lamps (whether or not they are lighted or able to be lighted), as signified by the possessive “their” in “took their lamps”, is also significant. The virgins own the lamps; they are their responsibility. For the purposes of this interpretation, I am going to equate the lamps with the virgins themselves; the virgins are their lamps.
Moving on to the second verse, we are told that, of the ten virgins, “five of them were wise, and five were foolish” (Matt. 25:2). The significance of the equal division of five and five is not to be overlooked. What this does is it discounts the idea that quantity is of any importance in God’s decision to save the wise. He does not save the wise because they are more or less in number than the foolish; God is impartial to number. It may also make a statement of the end times: that only half of mankind will be saved, but this is unlikely, given other Scripture regarding salvation (Rev. 14:1). It also could mean that the probability that a man be wise or foolish is the same. The significance of the numbers five and ten could also be discussed, but this would be tangential to our discussion.
In the third verse, we are introduced to “oil”, and that the foolish “took no oil with them” (Matt. 25:3). In the Scriptures, oil has a very significant meaning. Oil is a substance used for anointing (Ex. 29:7). Anointing is a method of sanctifying (Lev. 8:12). Thus, fact that the foolish virgins failed to take oil with them means it is impossible for them to “anoint” or “sanctify” their lamps (which we earlier defined as themselves). The foolish virgins are therefore coming unto the bridegroom without having been sanctified or made clean. Oil is also used for anointing a king (2 Kings 9:6). As those who are faithful to God are made “heirs” in the kingdom of heaven, this oil also bears the significance of being the very “substance” which makes us heirs: the grace of God (Titus 3:7, James 2:5, Gal. 3:29). Physically, as oil is necessary fuel for the lamp, this has implications for the foolish virgins. Just as oil is needed to light the fire in the lamp, so too is the anointing of God’s grace needed to justify us faithful and kindle Christ Jesus within us, baptizing us with fire (Matt. 3:11, Luke 3:16). The foolish virgins, then, do not have the grace of God, and with it, sanctification. It is also crucial that the virgins “provide oil for themselves” (Wenthe 12), because this would mean that both the wise and the foolish virgins have the ability to receive God’s grace, and it is not God’s election concerning to whom it goes.
In the fourth verse, the wise did take oil with them, and thus are capable of sanctification, according to our interpretation. The taking of the oil is now associated with being wise.
The fifth through seventh verse of the parable describe the moment of, preceding, and following the coming of the bridegroom. The symbolism of all the virgins sleeping in verse five could be interpreted in a variety of ways. Sleep is often a euphemism for death (Ps. 13:3, Dan. 12:2, John 11:12-14), especially connoting being dead to spiritual things while on earth (Rom. 13:11, Eph. 5:13-15), as well as being in a state of sin (Eph. 2:5). Thus, we could interpret the virgins to be physically dead, like Lazarus, spiritually dead (although this is unlikely as the wise virgins are spiritually prepared), or in a state of sin. If we interpret them to be physically dead, this parable would be a warning to those yet alive on earth to ready their “lamps” with “oil” (souls with grace), so that when they “sleep” (physically die), they may be judged “wise” before the “bridegroom” (worthy of everlasting life). This interpretation leaves room for the theological idea of purgatory, as the bridegroom does not come immediately to redeem His saved once they are dead, but, in fact, “tarried”: a moment in which, after death, the virgins must take what they have prepared on earth and present themselves to be judged. Only then are they admitted to the “wedding”. We will discuss the meaning of the wedding later. If we are to go with the idea that the virgins are spiritually dead, this would imply that, even though the wise virgins prepared their souls for the coming of the bridegroom, this is not enough. This interpretation, thus, would not make sense, so we will discard it. The third interpretation, that the virgins are in a state of sin, is plausible. If indeed the virgins are representatives of mankind on earth (as we shall see in our later discussion on Jesus’ concluding admonition), it is necessary to take into account that all of the virgins be in a state of sin. The mentioning of “midnight” as the hour in which the bridegroom returns is simply a stylistic hypothetical; it is also mentioned as a possible time for Christ’s return in Mark 13:35-36. The rising of the virgins in the seventh verse could be a symbol of repentance, birthing life from the ashes of the death of sin. The trimming of the lamps could also be seen as a form repentance and spiritual cleansing: readying the soul for judgment. However, since the foolish virgins do not have oil (grace), trimming the lamps (readying the soul/repenting), as we shall see, will do no good.
Verses eight and nine are very interesting because of their interpretive implications for the nature of grace. The foolish virgins ask the wise for their oil, “for our lamps are gone out” (Matt. 25:8). This the first time the foolish virgins realize they are without oil (grace). The foolish realize they are naked before God; they lack the armor of grace and are spiritually empty. Just as the lamps without oil cannot support a flame, so too cannot a soul without grace support the indwelling of Christ Jesus. In the ninth verse, the wise refuse to give the foolish their oil, “lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves” (Matt. 25:8). This could signify that the wise realize that the grace of God can neither be given by man nor received from him; it must be “purchased” from God directly. This “purchase” implies an exchange; an exchange that would be taking place between man and God. The foolish virgins must offer their bodies as “a living sacrifice” (Rom. 12:1) to receive the grace of God. Thus, just as the wise virgins admonish the foolish to buy oil from “them that sell”, so too do those filled with the grace of God admonish them that lack it to offer their bodies as “a living sacrifice” in heavenly exchange for such grace.
Verse ten is open to much interpretation. This verse brings up the idea of timeliness as crucial to salvation. Before the foolish virgins are able to complete the exchange needed to obtain the oil (the grace of God), the bridegroom (Jesus) comes (returns), and “they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut” (Matt. 25:10). The issue of timeliness is one that is full of interpretive possibility. One could argue that Christ is telling us that He (the bridegroom) is predestined to return before some are ready, as those who are not ready at His coming were not destined for salvation. One could also argue that the coming of the bridegroom in this parable happens to have arrived before the foolish were able to obtain oil, and that, it could have been possible for him to have arrived after they obtained it, thus allowing them time to be saved. This verse also introduces the marriage, which is extremely significant. A marriage implies a union of two parties: the bride and the bridegroom. We are not introduced to a bride, however, so we must decide who (or what) constitutes the bride. Bridal imagery pervades both the Old and New Testaments. The bride is God’s people (Is. 62:5), the Church (Eph. 5:25, Eph. 5:31-32, cf. Song of Songs), the new Jerusalem (Rev. 21:2, Rev. 21:9-10), and the Body of Christ (Col. 1:18). Given these definitions, it is possible that the wise virgins are not simply witnessing the wedding, but are, in fact, the very ones the bridegroom is marrying (the five wise virgins, and, thus, God’s saved people, constitute one bride, not five or more). This reasoning gives further evidence that the wise virgins constitute the kingdom of heaven: if the bride is defined as the new Jerusalem (which is heaven), and the wise virgins are, collectively, the bride, then it follows that the saved are the heavenly kingdom, which, after union in marriage, are, in effect, united in Christ. The concept of the “door” mentioned in the tenth verse is also important to our interpretation. The image of the “door” is a very loaded image in Scripture. Doors were a means of separation between the holy and the profane, as in the “door of the tabernacle of the congregation” in the Hebrew scripture (Lev. 10:7). The same also applies to heaven. The door of heaven separates the faithful from the unfaithful so that only the faithful may be in the presence of the tabernacle/temple of God (Ps. 78:23, Rev. 4:1, Rev. 11:19, Rev. 21:3, Rev. 21:22). The door is also Jesus Himself (John 10:9). Finally, there is a judge that stands afore the door of heaven (James 5:9) who determines whether a soul be worthy of entering (Rev. 20:12, Rev. 20:15). The door is also within the soul, just as the kingdom of heaven is within the soul (Luke 17:21), and the door within the soul is one through which Christ must enter (Rev. 3:20). Given these definitions of the “door” which is shut in the tenth verse, we can now interpret what this means in this parable. The wedding occurs within the “room” to which the door leads, which means (using our analogy to the tabernacle of God) that the wise virgins are worthy of being in the presence of God’s temple. The permanence of the closing of the door is open to interpretation. The parable fails to mention whether the door may or may not be reopened. That being said, if one takes into account the passage in Luke which states “knock, and it shall be opened unto you…to him that knocketh it shall be opened” (Luke 11:9-10), it seems as though door is not permanently shut, and may be reopened.
This brings us to the arresting verses eleven and twelve: “Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not” (Matt. 25:11-12) It is left unknown whether these virgins, presumably the foolish virgins, were successful in obtaining God’s grace. There are two possibilities: either the foolish virgins failed to receive God’s grace (because it was no longer possible to receive it or because they failed to offer themselves for the exchange to take place) and called to be let into heaven anyway, or they were successful in receiving God’s grace, but the tardiness in doing so (the door being shut) caused them to be left out of heaven. It is more probable that the first be true, as we have previously determined that the door is not permanently shut. The bridegroom’s words “I know you not” are also significant. In the Scriptures, to “know” is a euphemism for sexual intercourse (Gen. 4:1, Luke 1:34) in addition to its conventional meaning. With this in mind, the bridegroom’s words could signify that the foolish virgins are not included in the consummation of the kingdom (the reunification of Christ and His saved faithful), which would occur after the heavenly marriage to which they were bid to attend.
In the final verse of this parable, the thirteenth, Jesus gives an admonition to them who listen to Him: “Watch therefore, for ye know not neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh” (Matt. 25:13). Through our interpretation of the parable, we can define Christ’s command to “watch” as a sacramental, spiritual vigilance, rather than a physical attentiveness. Christ is not advising us to stay physically awake continuously, but rather to keep our spiritual eyes open through partaking of instruments of God’s grace: the sacraments. Wenthe writes that the “watching” Christ calls us to do “is not to be understood in the narrow sense of rapt attention. Rather it stresses that sort of vigilant activity which results in preparedness at the eschatological appearance of the Bridegroom” (Wenthe 14). By giving an admonition after telling the parable, Jesus thus transforms the parable into an allegory in which everyone is a character: the virgins, the lamps, represent all of mankind; whether or not a man is deemed wise is dependent upon his taking heed of Christ’s advice. Luke, in his telling of the gospel, seems to allude to this parable when he quotes Jesus as saying:
Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are: then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets. But he shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity (Luke 13:24-27).
If this passage be an allusion to the parable of the wise and foolish virgins, this atfirst would seem to contradict our idea that the door is not permanently shut. However, it becomes evident that those who knock on the door and are not permitted entry are only those who are “workers of iniquity”. The inability for some to enter in through the “strait gate” is due to the fact that, though they have not made the exchange to receive the grace of God, they are still requesting entry into heaven. The fact that the “master” (equivalent to the “bridegroom”, and thus, Jesus Christ) accuses the graceless of iniquity means they have not “trimmed their lamps” (Matt. 25:7) or awaken from the sleep of sin; thus, the passage does not contradict our interpretation.
In conclusion, the parable of the wise and foolish virgins seems to be an allegory concerning the nature of salvation, and how it may be achieved. It emphasizes the necessity of God’s grace in salvation, as well as the responsibility of the individual to obtain it. The parable also calls us to sacramental vigilance, and continual repentance, that we may be made worthy of His promises and enter into His kingdom in heaven.
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Works Cited
Wenthe, Dean O. "Parable Of The Ten Bridesmaids : Matt 25:1-13." Springfielder 40.1 (1976): 9-16. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
[1] Wenthe, Dean O. "Parable Of The Ten Bridesmaids : Matt 25:1-13." Springfielder 40.1 (1976): 9-16. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
[2] All scriptural citations are taken from the Authorized King James Version of the Holy Bible.
[3] cf. John 1:1-10, and other writings on the nature of the Trinity in relation to God’s word.
[4] “…Jesus [is] transferring the Jewish expectation of Himself with the bridegroom (Matt. 9:14-15 and parallels) and…[is] transferring the Jewish expectation concerning the coming of God the Father to His own person and word just as He had done in Luke 13:24-30” (Wenthe 13).
