They said to him, “John’s disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking.” Jesus answered, “Can you make the friends of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast.” He told them this parable: “No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for they say, ‘The old is better.’” — Luke 5:33-39
In 1965 Keith Miller published a book called, The Taste Of New Wine. It was a call for Christian renewal in the home, the office, and the church. It pleaded against the compartmentalization of the Christian faith, where the average believer was one person in church—and a totally different person at home and at work. Miller called for an answer from the contemporary church to the apostle Paul’s prayer to the Ephesians, “For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches, he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge — that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Ephesians. 3:14-19). The book was one man’s call for the new wine of Christ to be poured into the new wineskins of the church. That call continues today through this parable of Jesus.
They said to him, “John’s disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking.”— Luke 5:33
The setting for this parable taught by our Lord is at a party. Luke calls it, “a great banquet.” Jesus was the guest of honor and the one giving the party was a tax collector by the name of Levi. We know him better as Matthew. He was a Jew and a tax collector, and hated and despised by his countrymen who believed he had sold out to the Romans by taking on the commission to collect Rome’s taxes from his own people. Historians tell us that each tax collector was assigned a fixed amount to collect for Caesar and anything over that amount they could keep. The fact that Matthew evidently had a large house that accommodated lots of guests may indicated his position of wealth. It was a lucrative position. One of Matthew’s peers by the name of Zaccheus, “was a chief tax-gatherer, and he was rich (Luke 19:2). In fact, Zaccheus, when he got saved, was willing to give half of his possessions to the poor and to give back four times the amount to those he defrauded. Matthew had been invited by Jesus to become his discipleand he responded by leaving everything (including his occupation) and following Jesus. In appreciation perhaps, he invited his tax collector friends, some Pharisees and other teachers of the law, to join the celebration. There was much eating and drinking.
A discussion arose among the guests of the party in regard to three different groups of disciples who were present, as to the practice of fasting and praying. The Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist were known for the strict religious practice of fasting—although it was not required by the Law—except on the Day of Atonement. This bothered the legalists in the group and so they directed their concern to Jesus, primarily about fasting.
Jesus answered, “Can you make the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast.” —Luke 5:34-35
In answering his critics, Jesus used the theme of a wedding celebration, something they could all identify with, as an illustration of why his disciples did not fast. Wedding feasts were times of great joy and merriment. They often lasted a week and there was lots of drinking, dancing, music and celebration. Jesus even used the parables of a marriage feast in relation to his first and second coming (Matthew 22:1-14; 25:1-13). Fasting, on the other hand was indicative of a time of sorrow and affliction. Jesus was pointing to himself as a bridegroom. However, there would come a time when he would be taken away (at the crucifixion), then sadness would come upon his guests— his disciples. I’m sure no one understood what Jesus was saying about himself. Many would, however, after his death, burial and resurrection.
He told them this parable: “No one tears a patch from a new garment, and sews it on an old one. If he does he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old.” — Luke 5:36
Even the men at the banquet—there were probably no women present—could relate to this illustration. A piece of clothing gets torn, it needs repair, so a novice would grab a piece of cloth from a newer garment, and sew it on the old one as a patch. There were three things wrong with doing it that way. One, the new cloth wouldn’t match the old one so the tear would become even more obvious; the new cloth would be ruined because part of it had been torn away; and the patch would eventually break on the old garment, because when it was washed it would tear way from the old because of its superior strength, leaving a hole.
What is the central truth that Jesus is teaching through this instruction? I believe he is saying that you can’t mix the old with the new. The new doesn’t make the old better if you insist on keeping the old. The new stands on its own. Holding on to the old ways (the Old Covenant) while using the new ways (the New Covenant), as nothing more than a patch job, will produce an inferior garment, as well as distort the new one. Jesus is the complete new garment, not material for a patch job. “I am the way, and the truth and the life. (John 14:6).
And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, ‘The old is better.’” — Luke 5:37-39
To emphasize his point, Jesus used another illustration out of the culture of that day. This was one that everyone could understand—wine. I’m sure there were wineskins all over Matthew’s house as Jesus continued the parable. One of the rules of interpretation of Scripture is to try and put yourself in the time and place of the writer — into the culture of that day. If we think of wine in contemporary terms we will miss the mark in understanding the central truth of this passage. We need to know what they knew about grapes and wine and wineskins, both new and old,—to understand what Jesus meant.
Grapes were an important crop in the life of agricultural Israel and had been for centuries. God’s word is filled with references to grapes, wine and winepresses. When grapes were harvested, they were taken to a winepress where they were crushed, mostly by using people’s feet. The juice run- off was placed in jars and then into wineskins for easier portability and storage. The first juice of the vine was known as sweet wine because it was fresh and unspoiled. The people of Israel drank this wine on a daily basis. It was a staple. Once placed into a wineskin, however, a natural fermentation process would begin and the juice would soon turn into alcoholic wine. It became zesty, had a new aroma, was delightful to the taste, and had a kick. It produced results. Think of the application!
New wine was never put into old wineskins because the old goatskins they used would become hard and brittle with no elasticity. When fermentation began they would split open and the wine would spill out, becoming useless. New wineskins, however, being soft and pliable would give with the new process taking place within. Old wineskins were only good for old wine. Now there’s one other property of new wineskins that we need to know. New wine, in order to maintain its delightful taste, needed to be transferred to new wineskins frequently. It was customary to pour wine from one vessel to another to improve its quality. If not, it would grow sourbecause of the dregs—the solid material from the grapes (skin, seeds and foreign material) that would form a silt at the bottom of the wineskin and impair the taste.
What is the central truth from this illustration? Jesus is the new wine. When you came to know him, you were an old wineskin full of the old wine of the world. Had you held on to your old ways, while tasting the new wine, it would have leaked out and had no effect. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: the old has gone, the new has come!” (2 Corinthians 5:17). To many believers today, that’s what has happened to their faith. They hold on to the old ways, while sampling the new. Christianity is not a wine tasting event!
In closing this parable, Jesus says that some will like the old wine so much, that they will have no interest in new wine any longer. That’s a sad state to be in, when we resist the new wine saying, “The old is better.” To keep our new wine from becoming sour, we must pour it into other new wineskins frequently. We must give to others the new wine of Christ or we, too, will become sour—full of the dregs (Jeremiah 48:11, Zephaniah 1:12). Sour wine has a terrible taste—one no one wants to try! Anybody wanted to taste your new wine lately? Maranatha!
Pastor Don Kimbro
