Scripture ReadingLk. 5:36-39He also told them a parable: “No one tears a piece of cloth from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will tear the new garment as well, and the patch from the new will not match the old.And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will spill, and the wineskins will be ruined. Instead, new wine is poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants new, for he says, ‘The old is better.’”Scripture ReflectionOn the eve of his arrest, Jesus gave an expository teaching on the Passover feast. The bread, which signified the Passover lamb, was his body; the wine, which signified the lamb’s blood, was his own blood. According to Jesus, these long-cherished memorials of the ancient Passover, which anchored Israel’s identity in God’s intervention, in fact signified her destiny and soon-coming liberation in Christ. This last cup he did not drink: “I tell you that I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes.” (Lk. 22:18). This is the same cup about which he said, “Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me.” (Lk. 22:42) — the cup of his passion. This is that same cup about which he had earlier asked those disciples of his who were vying for position in his coming Kingdom, “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?”. Indeed they would: “You will indeed drink from my cup.” (Mt. 20:22, 23). When the cloven tongues of Pentecostal fire came down on the Apostles, they were accused of being drunk on “new wine”. There is a double entendre here: not only is this an insinuation that they are drunk on new wine, which is known for being strong; but this was a theological accusation of innovation, deviation from the “true vine” of Israel — that is, the the Word of God upon whom Israel was founded. Of course, Jesus is the Word of God, and He is the true vine (Jn. 15:1). He did not come to innovate, though he proclaimed a New Testament in his blood (Lk. 22:20); he did not come to destroy the Law & Prophets upon whom Israel’s history and destiny rests, but to fulfill them (Mt. 5:17). In fact, Jesus only ever stood for a radical return to the roots of Israel’s life. He accused the scribes and Pharisees of innovation and deviation from the true vine. While at table with them, he spoke a parable against them: “No one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will spill, and the wineskins will be ruined. Instead, new wine is poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants new, for he says, ‘The old is better.” With this parable, Jesus shrewdly highlighted something that would have deeply disturbed both the religious authorities and their adherents: their religious cult was “new wine” in entirely “new wineskins”. Theirs was such an innovative departure, they could not even claim to have poured the “new wine” of their teachings into the “old wineskin” of Hebrew tradition — for it would have destroyed Israel. But Jesus speaks as the head of a restored Israel; Israel, for all of her national traumas, was far from destroyed. He himself was her living hope — she was fully alive in him. In Jesus, the “old wine”, which is “better”, is perfectly preserved in its ancient wineskin. The insinuation here would have been clear to those listening: Jesus represented the true tradition of Israel, stretching back even to before the days of the Patriarchs: “Before Abraham was, I AM.” (Jn. 8:58). The tradition of the Pharisees et al was a counterfeit invention — they were blind guides, wicked tenants, shepherds for profit, thieves and robbers in the sheepgate. These and more accusations Jesus regularly hurled at them, in case the parable of the wineskins had gone over their heads. So when Peter stepped out with the Eleven to preach on Pentecost, he was therefore far from drunk on “new wine”. He was intoxicated with the “better” “old wine” of the Holy Spirit — the original and true inspiration of all Israel’s hope, and the hope of the Patriarchs all the way back to Adam in Eden. Children of God, the “true vine” for us is the Anointed One, Jesus Christ; and God has seen fit to bless us with his spiritual anointing. It is the Spirit of Christ who lives in us and inspires our faith. And though the testament upon which we rest in faith is new, neither the “wine” nor its “wineskin” — the form our faith takes — is new. Rather, the “old wineskin” of our way of life is that same “message you have heard from the beginning: we should love one another.” (1 Jn. 3:11). All of the Law and the Prophets, for whom the religious authorities of Jesus’ day claimed to speak, hang on this commandment, and it is the ancient, timeless “wineskin” of the greatest commandment from God to his children: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” (Mt. 22:34-40; Deut. 6:5; Lev. 19:18). On Pentecost, the Apostles drank deeply of the ancient “wine” of the Ancient of Days, and their lives were forever transformed into “old wineskins” — it was not they who lived, but Christ in them (Gal. 2:20), the ancient Word of God who was before Abraham, and by whom the worlds came into being (Heb. 1:2). And so they indeed drank from the living cup that Jesus drank — for even as Jesus did not live for himself by bread alone, but by every word from the mouth of God, so also his wine was the Spirit of God by whom he lived and lives still. And in his apostles, he fulfilled his Last Supper promise that he would drink this cup anew in the Kingdom of God which he now proclaimed through their mouths on Pentecost. May he so do with us as well. In our so-called “new age” — or age of “newness” perhaps, since newness for newness’ sake seems to be the highest secular value (though there is truly nothing new under the sun) — we might find ourselves longing wistfully for the comfort of ancient traditions to anchor and shelter us in an otherwise ever-changing world. There is a return to paganism among those who long to reconnect with what they hope was a once free and noble human spirit in harmony with the spirits of the natural world; there is a return to ethnic and national identity in hopes of reclaiming some sense of place and purpose in the face of globalism and the internet’s de-localizing, culture-flattening force; there is a return to traditional religious forms even in Christianity, in hope that these forms — whether smells, bells, ancient language, old rules or antique customs — might endow one with the wisdom and peace that presumably established them. Sadly, these hopes are not at all unlike those of the “hypocritical” scribes and Pharisees (Mt. 23:13), who innovated complex religious systems to fill their peoples’ void of meaning and identity after a long train of national disasters — invasions, exiles, cultural and literal holocausts. Their efforts missed the mark; the only tradition they perpetuated was that which the Spirit of God detested: “Because you have rejected wisdom, I reject you from being a priest to me...[Israel’s] leaders judge for a bribe, her priests teach for a price, and her prophets practice divination for money…you deprive the poor of justice in the gate…I hate, I despise your feasts! I cannot stand the stench of your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer Me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them.” (Hos. 4:6; Micah 3:11; Amos 5:12, 21-22). This perverse tradition was the fruitless tree that John the Baptist cried out against: “The axe lies ready at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Mt. 3:10). The fire would be provided by Jesus: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” (Mt. 3:11). “The fire will prove the quality of each man’s work. If what he has built survives, he will receive a reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss. He himself will be saved, but only as if through the flames.” (1 Cor. 13-15). The fiery Spirit of God was unleashed on the world at Pentecost, filling the earth as the waters cover the sea (Hab. 2:14), and henceforth searches all things (1 Cor. 2:10). “Everyone will be salted with [this] fire.” (Mk. 9:49). Let us therefore cling to the true vine, Christ; and may his Spirit bear in us good fruit according to his commandment of love. This is the one, true, most ancient “tradition” to which we should return, and which we should diligently carry along. May this year’s commemoration of Pentecost call to mind that the “old wine” is better, the Holy Spirit of the Ancient of Days; that at our own peril, we forsake the “old wineskin” of faithful love for “new wineskins” of perverse, ever-evolving, ever-“innovative”, ever-ensnaring religious inventions (of which there are plenty secular varieties as well, lest I be unclear) — for such “new wineskins” contain only the “wine of wrath”. Pray we do not fall into such a temptation and trap, or drink from such a merciless cup! May we all, rather, drink deeply from the merciful cup offered to us by our Lord Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Song Meditation: “Table of Grace”
Inspiration has struck!This Holy Week I found myself writing and recording companion songs for the journey, from the Triumphal Entry to the Resurrection. You can find all these brand new songs here:
ICYMI: New Album “Hymns & Homilies” Out NowI invite you to download and listen to my album, out now: “Hymns & Homilies” — an eclectic collection of songs for worship and musical sermons. This is not your grandaddy’s Christian music. Name your price — your support for my work of music ministry is a blessing!
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