A Better Allegiance EP5: Are You Actually Ready?

In this episode of A Better Allegiance, Robert Uribe asks a question many of us assume we already know the answer to:

Are you actually ready?

Using Matthew 25 and the parable of the ten bridesmaids, this episode challenges the idea that being around faith is the same as being formed by it. Everyone looked ready… until the moment came—and only some were. This message speaks to both those who have stepped away from the Church and those who stayed but may have slowly adjusted along the way.

In a time shaped by division, culture, and compromise, this is a call back—not to an institution, but to Jesus. Because when the moment comes…

It won’t reveal what you said.

It will reveal what you built.

“They all looked ready… until it mattered.”

Transcript

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Hello, welcome back to A Better Allegiance. I'm Robert Urabi. Over the past few episodes we've been walking through some real things. Where our allegiance actually belongs, what it means to love our neighbor beyond just words, what happens when we stay silent in moments that matter, and how easily our faith can begin to be shaped by everything around us, and whether we realize it or not. All of that has been building towards something deeper, something more personal, something that doesn't just challenge what we think, but forces us to ask a question that we don't always slow down long enough to really sit with. Am I actually ready? And no, I don't mean ready in the way we casually say it, or ready in the way we assume we are just because we've been around faith for a long time. I mean ready in the way Jesus was talking about. Ready for what, you ask? Ready for the second coming of Jesus. And for some of you listening, I know that might feel distant or unfamiliar, or maybe even something you've heard before but never really wrestled with. But what Jesus is pointing out to us here is more than just a future event. It's a movement. It's a movement where everything becomes clear, where what's real is revealed, where the life we've actually lived, not the one we've talked about, not the one we've presented, but the one we've built in private, comes to light. And his message is simple, but it carries so much weight. Don't wait for the moment to figure it out. Let's get into it. And at the beginning of the story, there's nothing that separates them. Nothing you can point to, nothing that would make you question who is ready and who isn't. Because they're all there for the same reason, standing in the same place, waiting on the same moment. And from the outside, everything about them looks right, everything about them feels aligned. Everything about them would make you assume they're ready. And that's what makes this story so uncomfortable. What matters most isn't visible at first. And Jesus makes it clear that five of them brought extra oil, and five of them didn't. He didn't rush past the detail because the difference between them isn't in what they're holding, it's what they've prepared. And then time stretches, the moment doesn't come when they expect it to. The waiting gets longer, the anticipation starts to wear down, and eventually all of them fall asleep. Which tells us that this story isn't about perfection. It isn't about who performed better in the moment. It's about what was built before the moment even came. Then suddenly everything shifts. There's a cry in the night. The kind that wakes you up instantly, the kind that tells you something you've been waiting for is finally here. The bridegroom is here. And in that moment, when it actually mattered, what was hidden becomes visible. What looked the same on the outside is no longer the same. The ones who brought oil stepped forward, ready, not scrambling, not panicking, not trying to figure out in the moment, but they were ready, while the others realized something they didn't expect to realize. That what they had was enough to look ready at first, but not enough to last. And now their lamps are going out. And in urgency they turn and ask the others, give us some of your oil. And the answer they received isn't rejection, it's reality that there isn't enough oil to share, there isn't enough to be transferred, there isn't enough to make up for what was never prepared. So they leave, trying to find in the moment what should have been built over time. And while they're gone, the bridegroom arrives, the door opens, the prepared go in, and then the door is shut. And when the others return, they knock and they call out. They expect to still be in, but the response they received is one of the most sobering lines Jesus ever says. I don't know you. And that's where this stops feeling like a story and starts feeling personal. It's like walking out of your house with your phone in your hand, seeing that it turns on, seeing that it lights up, assuming everything is fine, and then getting into the moment later in the day where you're actually gonna need it. Something important, something urgent, and you realize the battery is almost gone. And you think back and realize it looked fine earlier, it worked earlier. You assumed it was ready, but you didn't prepare for when it mattered the most. And now you're in a moment where you need it and it can't do what it was meant to do. And that's the tension Jesus is pointing out. They looked ready until it mattered. And this is where everything we've been talking about over the last couple of weeks all connects. See you can understand allegiance, you can agree with loving your neighbor, you can recognize when silence is wrong. You can even see how culture shapes people and still miss something deeper. Being around truth is not the same as being formed by it, and knowing the language is not the same as living it out in life. And what Jesus is pointing out here is something that cannot be faked, rushed, or borrowed. And this is why that matters right now, because the last several years haven't been just about the events we've lived through. They've been moments that have revealed something about us, about the church, about what has been shaping us. And through everything we've experienced, COVID, division, conversations around justice, war, we were given opportunity after opportunity to reflect the love of Christ, and yet at the same time we've watched faith become tied into power, into influence, to identity in ways that we've created confusion, division, and distance. And maybe God has allowed this moment not just to divide the church, but to reveal it, to show us what we've been building, to expose what has been shaping us, to reveal whether our faith has depth or just appearance. Too often we picked sides before we chose love. We aligned before we listened. We reacted before we reflected Jesus. And the world didn't just hear what we said, they saw how we lived. And maybe the question right now is simple. Can we come back? Back to him? And I want to speak to both sides of this, to those who stepped away and those who stayed, because both matter in this moment. For those who stepped away, you didn't just leave out of rebellion, you left out of disappointment, out of confusion, out of trying to reconcile what you believed with what you're seeing. And somewhere along the way, distance started to feel safer, more controlled, easier to manage. But let me tell you something, Church. Distance might feel safe, but it's slowly costing you something. Distance doesn't build depth, and distance doesn't produce oil. And if you stay there long enough, you can convince yourself you're still growing, but being around it is not the same as being formed by it. And at the same time for those who stayed, staying didn't feel like a decision. It felt like a slow shift. Something that happened over time, something you would have noticed right away, but little by little, something began to change. And if you're honest, there were moments where it felt easier to go along than to stand firm, easier to stay quiet than to speak truth, easier to agree outwardly than to wrestle inwardly, and over time what was being accepted around you slowly began to shape what felt acceptable within you. Until you found yourself still in the room, but not standing on the same way you used to. And the truth is whether you stepped away or slowly adjusted, the call still remains the same. Come back. Not to an institution, but to Jesus. Getting the church back to Jesus won't happen by accident. It will happen through people. And that responsibility belongs to us. So take a real look at your life. Not the version you present, not the version you talk about, but what's actually there. And ask yourself honestly if there is oil. Not just if the oil was there at some point, not just if you used to feel close, but if there is oil right now. Because for some of us the truth isn't that we never had it, it's that it dried up. And slowly what used to be consistent became occasional. What used to be intentional became convenient. And now we're running on what used to be. But yesterday's oil will not sustain you in today's moment. We've gotten really good at looking ready, but readiness is built in quiet, in the daily, in the unseen. And when the moment comes, it won't create something new. It will reveal what was already there. Jesus, search us deeply. Build something real in us, something that lasts. Something that holds when life gets hard, and teach us to know you, not just speak about you, but to know you. So that when the moment comes, we are ready. Amen. Thank you for listening to a better allegiance today. If this episode challenged you, share it with somebody who needs it. And remember, be formed by Christ, not by culture, and keep your allegiance where it belongs. I'll see you next time.