New Thoughts (4/8/06-4/15/06)
In this portion of Scripture, we are witness to some of the first instances of Jesus using the parabolic method for teaching. It is noteworthy that this occasion is not an occasion of attack, but solely of explanation. We can tend to think that whenever Jesus responds, He is responding more or less in defense of His ways, but I think we may well misread Him in that supposition. I have read at least one text that found in the parables of Jesus an offensive weapon He was constantly launching against the Pharisees. This is not without merit, to be sure. However, that attack, if it is indeed an attack, is a veiled matter. I find it quite reasonable to think that the God of Hope was using the parable in a hopeful manner. While His vengeance is certainly just whenever He chooses to pursue it, the mercy at the core of His nature, that same compassion of which Jesus had so recently reminded the Pharisees, that it must surely have been present in the Son who is His chosen representative and Heir.
To be sure, there is a sense of gentle rebuke in what is said here, but it is rebuke given with the hope of restoration. It is delivered in three different vignettes, each provided from the rich material of common experience, each leaving the higher point unsaid. Alongside these three, Luke notes a fourth point Jesus made in this context. Given that all of these parables are spoken on this one occasion, I think we must understand them as seeking to make the same point. The threefold delivery of the message is, in that sense, both a rather poetic approach akin to the parallelism one finds in the proverbs and other Hebrew poetry, and a reinforcement of the importance of what is being taught. Like the repetition of “Holy, holy, holy,” we might see this repeated teaching as emphasizing the critical importance of the point being made. Yet, that point is never declared outright.
That is the way of the parable, though. The parabolic method, while used so wonderfully by Jesus, was not unique to Him. It was a standard tool in the repertoire of the rabbi. It is a method by which a high-level, spiritual point is made clear by comparison to a common, everyday experience. By pointing out the nature of the well-known, and often by using that well-known situation to lead to an obvious and inescapable conclusion, a point is made regarding spiritual matters. It is not unlike a simile, in that it seeks to draw a comparison: This spiritual matter is like this everyday situation. What may be deemed unique is the tendency of the parable to leave the higher side of the comparison unsaid. That is to be noticed particularly in the examples found here. Never does Jesus come out and declare what the higher principle is that He is teaching. Amongst His hearers, there will always be those who are attentive and alert. They understand what He is getting at because they understand Who He is and what He is about. Because they are, as His disciples, focused on matters of the Kingdom rather than matters of daily life, they are in tune with His message and understand that it applies to this Kingdom focus. The Pharisees, still focused on their earthly form of ‘righteousness,’ are disinclined to turn their attention on God. So, they hear the message but they miss the point.
This is the deadly danger of a works mentality. When our belief is all about what we have done for God, we are no longer looking to Him. When we become so proud of what we have accomplished for the Kingdom we lose sight of the King and His desire. It no longer matters to us so much what He desires because we have our own agenda now. He should be proud as punch to have us on His team. Why, just look at what we have accomplished for Him! We’ve built these beautiful buildings, established these glittering ministries ‘in His name.’ But, the reality is that we have been using Him, not pursuing Him. The reality is that we have been making a name for ourselves, and drawing on His glory and proper fame to do so. That approach is not only backwards, it’s deadly! God will not share His glory with anybody. That’s the devil’s own error that creeps into the soul, hoping to lead us into the very same disaster that has destroyed him.
In essence, this whole thing could be reduced to those disciples of men saying, “Look what we do for God,” and Jesus saying in response, “Look what God is doing for you.” As I study these parables in more detail, I shall have to see if this understanding holds. But, for now it seems a good premise. It is certainly a worthwhile reminder to us all. Stop bragging of your works lest you begin to think those works are your salvation. Brag instead of the great things God has done and is doing. Brag instead of the impossibility of your own salvation and His determination to save you anyway. What you do, do for love of Him Who has done everything for you, not out of a desperate hope that maybe if you do enough He’ll accept you. Know, once and for all, beloved, that He has accepted you, has already chosen to call you His own child. That’s what that adoption was all about! He has known who you are, and He has been pleased to declare you legally His child, legally heir to your portion in His kingdom. It is written, and in the nature of the kings of old, what He has written into His Law shall not be subject to change. Do you understand this? He has written your membership in His family into Law, and that Law is not subject to change!
Oh! Rejoice in what God in heaven has done for you! Rejoice that He prepares for your reception in heaven, prepares for that day when you will be at His side. Rejoice in knowing that even now, when you are so hard on yourself, when you see your failures much more than your successes; even now He looks down and says, “That’s my child!” with a joy greater than any father ever expressed for his offspring. Rejoice, knowing that His love for you is not hinged on your efforts for Him. His love for you is hinged solely on His love. Let those things you do for Him or in His name swing on that very same hinge.
The Children of the Bridal Chamber (4/9/06-4/11/06)
The first example Jesus chooses concerns the preparations for a marriage. The NASB speaks of the ones Jesus is discussing as the attendants of the bridegroom. Other translations say they are the guests of the bridegroom. The literal translation would be the children of the bridal chamber. However, the term for children can also be used of close and trusted friends. In this particular phrasing, it is the particular friends of the groom who are charged with preparing the chamber for his wedding night that are indicated. To them fell the task of making every necessary preparation, and to ensure that all was in perfect readiness for that moment when the bridegroom would enter into the consummation of his marriage.
Such was the trust of the bridegroom in these friends that they were also charged with insuring the safety of the bride herself. Yet, it is not this specific aspect of their role that is in sight with the present parable. After all, if the bridegroom is here with them, then the bride does not need their protection at present. It is expected to be clear to one and all that these friends, as they help prepare for the wedding are in no way sorrowful, in no way mournful and certainly not put out by the task that is asked of them. It is not the time for fasting, when such a celebration looms. How could it be? No, and I am reminded that even God forbade fasting on the days He appointed for celebration. Recalling how Jesus corrected the typical approach to fasting, it’s easy to see why!
Fasting is something done most often as an act of repentance and contrition. It is an attempt to manifest grief over our sins. In that sense, it would be seemingly impossible to fast without the accompaniment of mourning. It is another manifestation of sack-clothes and ashes, which would still be seen, were such things still in practice. What groom would wish to see his closest, most trusted companions weeping and mourning, gaunt and haggard on the day he weds? What bride would not be moved to tears by the sight of these sad men rejecting the carefully prepared celebration meal, refusing to drink the health of the new couple?
This is the scene Jesus sets before the eyes of those who could not understand His ways. What were they to make of it? In thinking on that, it is necessary to shed the understanding of hindsight which is ours, and try to hear Him with the understanding of those with Him that day. That said, I think we must hear a claim being made by Jesus. He is using the example of the bridegroom to explain the lack of fasting amongst His disciples. The example can only hold if He is in some way as special (at least to them) as is the bridegroom to the bridal party. It seems reasonable to think that He includes the other parables precisely because the point of the first is so likely to be lost on His hearers.
So, before thinking more about the implications of this teaching, perhaps I need to think more about what He is claiming in His unspoken position as the groom. Again, He is talking not so much to the Church of the twenty first century, but to the synagogue of Israel in the first century. He is not talking to those who have read the pages of Revelation, but to those who knew only Torah. I keep wanting to say that He is talking to the experts on Torah, but then I recall that it is not the Pharisees who came with this question, but the disciples of the Forerunner. Clearly, those disciples had missed some of John’s major points, else they would doubtless have been at Jesus’ feet themselves. More to the point, John’s disciples, like those who came to Jesus, were a mixed bag. If there were any scribes amongst them, there were doubtless very few. The majority were just common, everyday sons of Israel, just like the disciples of Jesus. Given that, I don’t know that we could reasonably expect them to be so conversant with Scripture’s imagery to see the claim that Jesus was making in that light. That He was making Himself out as somebody somehow of special significance would come across, given a little thought on the matter, but not necessarily the prophetic nature of that claim.
So, let’s leave it at this. Those who were at least listening with open ears must surely recognize that He is declaring Himself something special. The groom’s role in the wedding, his absolute necessity to the wedding is something clearly understood by all. Without the groom, there can be no wedding. Likewise, without the wedding there can be no groom. The absence of either would be utterly devastating to whichever remained. Perhaps it is that very fragility of the whole affair that makes celebration so necessary.
Why, after all, do we celebrate wedding? It is a celebration of hope. It celebrates the hope that these two who are to be wed will find wedded bliss to be their reality. It is a fragile hope, that, for we know the many challenges arrayed against that reality. It is, or ought to be, a hope accompanied by fervent prayer that all these obstacles will be overcome in the marriage we are celebrating. Most important to the point of the marriage to Jesus’ point, though, is the simple fact that it is a celebration, and where there is a celebration how can one possibly mourn? That is the obvious conclusion that Jesus knows will be drawn from this example.
The conclusion is intended to be obvious, but the application may not be so readily understood. Yes, we all understand that those most closely associated with the ones being wed find most cause to celebrate the wedding. It is, after all, the very closeness of their friendship with the groom that has led them to this place of trust. They have shown themselves trustworthy, therefore they are entrusted with the preparations of that most intimate of locations specific to the wedding. To them has fallen the duty of preparing the wedding chamber itself, the nuptial bed and all its surroundings. They have been charged with making certain that everything is arranged to perfection, such that with the ceremonies and formalities finally over, the real launch of wedded life will be forever remembered for its wonders, a wedding night without spot or blemish.
Well and good, but again we are left to ponder how this applies to Jesus and His disciples. Today, we understand clearly enough that the disciples are to be understood as the friends, and Jesus as the bridegroom. We also recognize the Church as His bride to be, but that aspect has no real part in this particular teaching. The scene is not the wedding, but the moments before. The players are not bride and groom, but the friends of the groom. Indeed, for the purpose of this illustration, the groom is not a necessary part of the scene, other than in this respect: He is with His friends. So, we can safely suppose that His hearers in that crowd understood this much. But, what were they to make of Jesus as bridegroom? What claim, if any, was He making by this illustration?
Consider, by way of understanding, what the other teachers of the time were like. They were not, by and large, viewed as the close friends of their students. They were more likely to be seen as the disciplinary power, strong in didactics, strong in inculcating a respect for diligent effort and careful study. Their friendship, however, was more likely to be reserved to those who were of equal standing, the other teachers, not the students. It might not have differed all that much from military order, with its rules against fraternization between officers and enlisted men. Friendship so often corrupts the necessary discipline and respect.
In contrast, Jesus portrays Himself as the dear friend of His students, and His students as His most trusted and trustworthy companions, so much a part of Him, so similar in character that He can trust them with His most intimate scenes. It seems to me that it is this particular aspect of the first parable that is accented in the two which follow. The whole is a contrast of old and new, and the further explanation given in these added parables seeks to make plain that while the message Jesus bears is new, it is not ‘other.’ It is not a different religion, but simply a fresh take on what has always been the true faith.
Before I turn to those other parables, though, I want to consider the bit of prophecy that Jesus slips into this first teaching. In the midst of explaining why His disciples do not, indeed cannot fast at present, He delivers a message to His own students. The days will come when fasting will be natural and necessary. Those days will come when the bridegroom is taken away. Here, Jesus is carefully choosing His words to convey a specific message to a specific audience. Already, He is warning His friends, His students, that He will not be with them as long as He or they might like. Further, He makes plain enough that His departure will not be totally of His own choosing. Here, I must be careful, for He surely laid down His life of His own choosing, thereby satisfying the greatest demand of the Father on His Son. Yet, as is only natural to any living creature, He would have been far more pleased to discover another way. It was His choosing, but it was hardly to be thought His fondest desire. His choosing reflected what was His fondest desire: to pursue God’s will with utter faithfulness. In this earliest foreshadowing of His earthly end (for a time), however, He is pointing out more than His submission to the Father in what must come. He is pointing out that, though what befalls Him will be absolutely in accord with the Father’s purpose, it will not be done by Father or by Son, but against their will, as it were. Jesus, the bridegroom, will not go away, as might be expected of the groom having been joined by his bride. No. He will be taken away.
The picture, then, is completed by this: Having pointed His listeners to the obvious joy and celebration of the wedding feast, He now pronounces that for Himself, that anticipatory celebration will be cut short by tragedy. The Bridegroom will be forcefully taken from His own celebration, and the chamber so lovingly prepared by His dearest companions will remain empty, never having served its purpose. Here is reason indeed for mourning! As sure as it was that His closest friends would be celebrating His good fortune in marriage, it is equally certain that His sudden tribulation in the midst of such an important moment would be cause for their great sorrow. Then they shall fast.
Fasting is the companion of mourning and repentance. So much can be heard in this simple sentence. They shall fast in that day in mourning for the loss of the Groom. They shall also fast in that day because they will recognize their own connection with that loss. They will recognize that they share in the guilt as those who contributed to the reason for His being taken. Their sins were as much to blame for the loss of their dear Teacher and Messiah as were the crimes of those who falsely charged and punished Him. Mourning is, after all, the action of a repentant man.
It is the action of one with a petition to bring before the Lord God in heaven. It is not, however, a hunger strike. It is an abasing of oneself in recognition of the great worth of Him with Whom we would deal. And, this too must be seen as a distinct difference between the old order and the new. Fasting had become little more than ritual and display for the old order. It had become less about abasement and more about pride. This issue has been addressed already in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus is making a distinction now. His disciples, the disciples of this new order, will fast not because the calendar indicates that it is time, but because the circumstances so indicate.
One last question that pesters me is whether that time is still with us. The Groom was indeed taken away as He declared He would be. But, He was not taken away forever. The wedding was not cancelled, only delayed. Now, He declares He is with us even to the end of the ages. He is with us always. Never again will we suffer His absence. Knowing that, can we ever find ourselves without cause to celebrate? Are we ever in a time appropriate for the friends of the Groom to mourn and fast? It is sorely tempting to answer this in the negative, and in doing so I would be right to a certain degree.
However, even as He was still present with His disciples, He made clear that there were matters that required not just prayer, but prayer and fasting both. So, while we may know He remains with us ever and always, we must understand that there are times that fasting is necessary. What we must never do, though, is fall into the habit of fasting simply because it is that time of the year. Seasons and days ought not, in this regard, regulate our prayer life. Prayer and fasting must never become so ritually automatic, must never be allowed to lose sight of their purpose. Prayer and fasting are response to the times we live in, the situations that surround us. We may not fast because the Bridegroom is ever with us, yet we may find cause for fasting in knowing how long delayed His wedding night has been.
How long, oh Lord? How long must You continue waiting to take Your bride to Your side? How long, before we have completed the preparations for that most wonderful of days? Even so, Lord, come. Come and make us ready, as You work within that we might work with You.
The Patch (4/12/06-4/13/06)
The next parable presents us with another commonplace from the time. The nature of that commonplace lends credence to the thought that it was not the disciples of the Pharisees He spoke to here, but those of John, as Matthew indicates. The Pharisees, being composed generally of upper-class people, would have less reason to be familiar with the details of mending their clothes. This was work for the tailor, surely. To the average man, however, this was familiar territory. He knew the necessity of making things do or doing without in a way that is largely lost on us today. He was also quite aware of the truth that Jesus speaks about the process of patching one’s clothes. Today, we understand well enough that new cloth is likely to shrink a bit at first washing, but we are not so familiar with this particular issue. Many of us would find it a challenge to think where we would even go to get some new cloth, let alone having it occur to us to do so when our clothes get worn. No, no. We simply replace them.
Let me, however, seek to stay in the mindset of His listeners, familiar with the truth being told them. From there, let me hear with an ear toward grasping His point. As we have it in Matthew’s and Mark’s accounts, the example is simply that of trying to mix something new and something old, and the point made is that this attempt must surely do damage to the old as the new matures. Luke adds slightly to the example, suggesting that the patch – which as a patch would not concern a soul – was taken from some newer garment rather than from a bolt of cloth. So, in this account, not only is the old damaged by this attempt to join the two, but so also is the new.
A literary critic would doubtless find signs of accretion here, the story changing over the years. Perhaps, but I don’t know that it is a necessary and foregone conclusion. For one thing, the added point that Luke’s accounting brings out is made directly in the subsequent parable, and may well have been part of the original telling that Matthew and Mark either did not see the need to record or simply had missed. Alternatively, Luke may simply be trying to make the point more readily accessible for his intended audience. Luke, the physician, was likely from a somewhat more affluent background than those to whom Jesus originally addressed these remarks. Likewise, his acquaintances would be more likely to come from such a background. They, too, might be unaware of the details of the patching process, and the inherent risk of damage from using this new material on old. But, they would surely understand that having cut the patch from a new garment, that new garment was no longer wearable. Either case is plausible. The question is whether there is anything in Luke’s accounting of the matter that changes the point being made. That will be difficult to determine before we determine what the point really is.
Is Jesus recommending the new over the old here? Alternatively, is He recommending the old over the new? I really don’t see that either point is being made. It is not a question of one being better or the other being worse. It’s simply the point that the new, fresh material cannot be made to conform to the condition of the old until it has aged itself. This point has the benefit of being in keeping with the point made regarding the bridegroom’s friends. Their condition is too distinct as yet for them to comply with the ways of those who are not part of the bridal party. It is not that they are something unique and set apart from the crowd, it is simply that their situation is different. It is not that they shall never do as others are doing, it is simply that the time is not yet.
So it is with the new cloth. It will not be new always. With time and effort, that new cloth will become very much like the old cloth, only without the holes, one hopes. That fresh cloth is not something so different from the old cloth that the two have no business with each other. It is simply fresh cloth. It is not as though one were seeking, for instance, to stitch olive branches in to patch the hole. It is cloth not unlike the cloth from which the damaged garment was made originally. But, the garment has matured, weathered many a day, and the patch has not.
The emphasis, it seems, is not on which is better, but on the fact that they are in reality very much the same. It is not a new faith that has come, in the sense of it being a replacement. It is not new in any qualitative sense. It is merely fresh, filled with the vigor of youth. It will mature. The promise is inherent in its being of like kind with the old. The old cloth was once new, too. The old faith had once known that same vigorous exuberance that now expressed itself in Jesus’ disciples. It was a boundless energy. To try and contain it would simply hurt the one who tried.
That, too, is part of the point being made. To try and keep the fresh cloth from shrinking is vanity. It cannot succeed, and will at best bring frustration on the one who would try it. In the same manner, those who would try to make the powerful faith of these followers conform to the staid ways of their elders were bound to fail in the attempt. To this, Jesus adds the point that their attempts will not only prove futile, as time has shown to be true, but that their attempts would only damage their own religious practices. More, even, than that; the effort they would put into crushing out this fresh move of God in their midst would be their own spiritual destruction. Because they were so bound and determined to maintain their own established order in the face of God’s fresh winds, they would lose everything that service to God was meant to provide.
Here is a message that is coming to the Church again. Here is a message that is coming to each one of us individually again. It is a good thing to be firmly established in pursuit of righteousness, but we must never become so rigid in our pursuit of what we understand that we cannot respond when God brings greater understanding. We must never become so insistent that we know all there is to know about this religion thing that we cannot be bothered to learn when God Himself is teaching.
In speaking of the patch, Jesus utilizes a term specific to the processing of woolen cloth. This would be particularly appropriate for a society for which sheep were a major commodity. He is speaking, then, of woolen cloth that has not been fulled. Now, that term is largely lost on us today. It is the term for a processing method used to give woolen cloth a comfortable and durable finish. The process causes shrinkage in the cloth, but in such a way as leaves it smooth. The resultant tightening of its weave would doubtless contribute to it’s being more effective at repelling the effects of weather.
It is interesting, in looking at what this process was, that the effects it sought to produce in the cloth were achieved by processes we would find rather oppressive. The cloth was subjected to a hot, humid environment. It was exposed to constant pressure. This not being enough, it was also subjected to the effects of friction. As I said, these are things we think of only in terms of discomfort. In the flesh, we see nothing of redeeming value in such oppression. However, the end result for the cloth is that it has been transformed from a thin, scratchy, loose fabric to something thick and comfortable, able to resist those very elements by which it was formed.
With that process in mind, I see more in the picture Jesus is painting. The patch is not so very different from the old cloth. The old cloth could not be old cloth without having been new at one time. It would not have survived so long as it had except it had been through the processes that prepare new cloth for use. It is as though He were telling them to give it time. They haven’t yet been exposed to the trials that made the faith of Israel so resilient. At the same time, the very fact that they were of a nature with the old garment made it certain that the trials that produced fine wool from such raw and unfinished material would surely come.
They were still Jews among Jews. There was no real distinction to be made between the old faith of Israel and the fresh faith of these who recognized and pursued Jesus. Again, the accent is not on the newness of these disciples of His. They will become old cloth in time, toughened and resistant to trial. Yet, they will never become not-cloth. They will never become non-Jews. Though the faith of Messiah’s believers sounds odd in the ears of God’s people, yet they in no wise depart from God’s people.
Hear also the inherent promise to those of the new cloth. The process will come. We who have not yet been fulled will be fulled in time. There will be friction. There will be pressure. There will be no end of friction and pressure. You will be hot. The humidity will seem unbearable. It will be like those awful days in August when there seems no way to get comfortable, and all the while the pressure will be mounting, and those we find hardest to deal with will be our constant companions. It is a pleasant prospect, is it not? Yet, there is indeed a beautiful promise in that prospect, for it is the process by which we are made tight-knit and resistant to worse trials. It is the process by which our own abrasiveness and thin skinned willingness to take offense are transformed. From coarse, itchy, weak material such as us, God uses these processes to produce a rich, strong, felt-smooth character that will withstand the worst of environments without irritation. There is purpose in the process, and as we go through, we must never lose sight of that purpose.
New Wine (4/14/06)
Now, we come to the lesson of the wineskins. Here, the commonplace is that of maturing the vintage. This, too, would be a matter well and fully understood by His hearers. The point He makes is that the new wine, having not yet fermented, will be subject to expansion and out-gassing as it goes through the process. This requires the elasticity of new wineskins, for the leather of the old skins has aged and can no longer take that sort of pressure. Those old skins have not outlived their usefulness any more than had the garment that needed patching. It continues to be perfectly well fit for holding a more matured wine, and will not fail in such conditions.
Once again, I see a focus in the message Jesus is putting forward. The focus is on establishing that as different as His ministry appears, it is not something alien to the faith of Israel. The new wine, while it is not at the same stage as wine that has matured, is still wine. It is not beer. It is not strong drink. It is wine that will in time be little different from all the other wine that has fermented before it. That same message is heard from the patch and the garment. The new, unfulled cloth of the patch will not remain so. It will be fulled. It will age and weather like any other woolen garment, and in time it will be old, just as the garment is now old. The accent, it seems, is on the sameness, not the difference. That same message is heard from the lesson of the bridegroom, as well. These will assuredly fast, even as those before them have fasted. It is simply that the time for their fasting has not come. They refrain from fasting at present because for them, now is a time for celebration. In this, they are no different than you older representatives. For, though you fast now, were it a season of celebration for you, you would likewise refrain.
I must accept, however, that while these three parables are aimed at answering a single question, there is also a sense in which each brings a new aspect of the answer to light. It is a case of precept upon precept, even though the precepts remain veiled in the nature of parable.
With the first of these parables, we hear a simple point made atop the ‘these are not unlike yourselves.’ That message is that they have cause to celebrate, a cause apparently not shared with their predecessors. This is a point that may or may not have registered with those who were listening to Him. The point is made, but not so plainly as to be inescapable. It can easily be overlooked by those seeking only the simple and immediate answer to the question. We can stop at the ‘they will fast in time,’ and see Him simply offering an apologetic, simply answering the question with the implication that in time these will become indistinguishable from what has been. But, for those who continue to wonder at His choice of material in this reply, there remains the deeper point: They have cause to celebrate. In a land oppressed by enemies, for a people who were feeling rather abandoned by God, surely a cause for celebration should awaken a hunger and thirst to share in that celebration.
Turning to the patch and the clothing, there is again the simple point of ‘these are not unalike.’ Here, however, there is a bit of comparison between the old and the new being introduced. Many will only take from this message what they wanted to hear. Those of the old camp can easily walk away with the message that these young upstarts are simply not mature enough to be of use yet. That message is here, I think, but it is not the whole message. The young camp can just as easily walk away with the message that the old no longer has the strength or flexibility to handle this new and fresh faith. That message is also here, but it is not the whole message. Indeed, Jesus seemingly steers clear of offering any opinion as to whether one is to be preferred over the other.
What I hear in this message is almost a sorrow. He looks upon these representatives of the ancient faith, a faith that deserves every recommendation, and He sees that there is a hole in their faith. There is a place that needs patching, but the only material at hand to affect repairs is too untested to do the job. To attempt a fix of that old faith with the exuberant faith of this young and fresh ministry would only make things worse. With that sorrow is mixed a bit of hope. For, the new cloth will be fulled. It will undergo that maturing process by which it becomes strong, resilient and less abrasive. The time will come when the old can indeed bear to be patched by the new. The time will come when the ancient faith of Israel will receive the Messiah that they must reject at present. The time will come when the people of two covenants will become one people, even as He has promised.
Coming back to the parable of the wineskins, the risk of attempting to admix the new and the old is emphasized more strongly. The damage, He says, will not only be to what has been. It is not, then, a warning shot fired at the old order, telling them that they cannot hope to stop what has been started here. The deeper sorrow is that all such efforts must not only destroy the old, but will also waste the new that has come.
Older is Better? (4/15/06)
Before I turn to that final statement in Luke, I think I must recapitulate what I have seen thus far. There is indeed a unified message that comes from these three parables. The message is simply that while the things being established by Jesus are indeed new, they are new in the sense of youthful vigor. In that vigor, they may appear different from the old faith, but they are not. They are of one stock and nature. That is the direct and immediate answer to the question that was put to Him. Why are Your disciples different? They aren’t. They are merely in a different season, a season your own faith once knew; and likewise, they will in time be old and staid like you. This is the common thread in the parables by which Jesus answers. In each, however, there is buried another message for the ears of those questioners and still another for His own disciples.
Consider the first parable, regarding the bridegroom and his friends. To those who came with their questions, the second message is this: the Teacher whose disciples these are is something greater than the teachers of these other sects. In particular, He is greater than John, as even John himself was quick to declare. Jesus would later tell His followers that John was the greatest amongst men who had come thus far in history. Yet, his presence amongst his followers was not sufficient cause to break wholly with the past. His presence did not lead his followers to set aside the law of tradition. Indeed, his very ministry was inclined to move one to mourning for one’s sins. So, too, the efforts at separation enjoined by the Pharisees. They could only lead to mourning, for they could only lead to failure, being centered on a righteousness in one’s own strength. So, in this sense, in spite of accenting the sameness of the new faith, He is still declaring a uniqueness. In Him is a cause to celebrate that cannot be found in any other branch of Judaism, that has never before been known in any variant of any religion. The righteousness for which these best of what preceded strove was made available. The forgiveness that seemed so fleeting was made a matter of permanence. All that the faith of Israel had hoped for was now here, and there could be no mourning amongst those who knew.
Then, there is the message to His own: The groom will be taken away. The wedding will be delayed. It is much easier to hear this message in retrospect, yet it seems to be undeniably there. The word is not that the groom will eventually depart with his bride to enjoy the wedding for which they prepared. The word is that he will be taken away. The preparations will not have the satisfaction of fulfillment. Not yet, at any rate. The groom will be taken away. There will be cause for great mourning amongst these whose life was so much celebration now. Their sorrow would be, in that sense, greater yet than the sorrow of those who were fasting at present. Their sorrow was for their own failure. The sorrow that would come upon the friends of the bridegroom was greater, for it was not only their own hopes that would be dashed to the ground, but that of that same special One with Whom they had rejoiced. The hopes of the whole world would be lost in their loss.
Turning to the second parable, the message to the Old Order is that there is something missing. There is a hole in the old faith, a tearing that needs to be fixed if it is to be salvaged. There is not really any suggestion of any fault in the old faith that has led to this. It has been a long used article and has come through many difficult times. Yet, it was fashioned well. It has not been destroyed by all that use, it has just worn through in this one spot. The fabric of faith had become weak, and a rent of unbelief had set in. It was not too late. It could be fixed and strengthened to withstand once more. However, that repair could not be made with what was presently happening in the kingdom of God. It was too raw, to new, and would only increase the damage if one attempted to repair that old faith by patching on the new. I hear in this a promise, though: there will be a time when that new faith can indeed be joined with the old. There will come a time when the new cloth has been sufficiently worked that it can fit well with that old faith, and the two be made one. They are, after all, made of the same stuff.
For the ears of His own, however, this parable carries a warning against arrogance or any sense of superiority. It is not that you are so much better, so much stronger, that prevents you from being the fix for the old faith. In fact, it is quite the opposite! That comes as a shock, doesn’t it? See, my friends, you are still coarse cloth, still loosely woven and not strong enough to stand up to what this old faith has seen. Neither are you to revile that old faith, for it is in its own way your future. You who are young will not always be so. It is the way of life that all things young and fresh become in time old and worn. Yet, this is not a bad thing. It is simply a matter of maturing. You who are coarse and loose-knit now will in time experience those things that will make you stronger, more tightly knit and cohesive, and at the same time smoother, more comfortable. You, too, will undergo experiences that will leave you with the strength that these old cloaks have displayed for so long. And, you will need that strength.
Finally, I come once again to the wineskins. There is a warning, of course, to the old order in this one: Don’t try to hold this new thing in. It does not yet and cannot yet conform to your old ways, to the rigidity of your tradition. If you attempt to contain it, it will surely destroy you. That is the message. It is not a threat, in any way. It is merely a warning of the inevitable result. Just as one knows better than to try and contain the explosive, expansive nature of new wine in the inelastic skins that have weathered years of use, so one ought to know better than to try and contain this explosive, expansive new faith in the inelastic traditions that had overshadowed the Law.
The same warning is given, in its way, to His own. Don’t try to conform to that tradition. The times will come (and so they did) when you will be strongly tempted to conform yourself to that older tradition, but it will do neither you nor that tradition any good. You will be wasted, poured out to no purpose, and they will be damaged beyond repair. Is that not, in large part, what we see play out as the Church spread in those early years? In Jerusalem, the old persecuted the new order, and the new order – which had never strayed all that far from the old – felt compelled to comply once again. The Church in Jerusalem all but disappeared as a result. Elsewhere, when the Church stood up and rejected the call of the Judaizers, it stood strong, and Judaizers who had sought to contain it were made as nothing. Yet, the resultant reaction from the society around the Church was such that both the old and the new suffered devastation as a result. The Christians were not alone in Roman persecution. Their elder cousins the Jews were right there with them. The old seeking to contain the new, and the new seeking to stay within the bounds of the old both brought tragic results on old and new alike.
What, then, am I to make of that final statement Luke alone records? Nobody, having drunk the old wine, the wine that has been standing in the cellar, aging and maturing, has any real desire for the new wine. That new wine is little more than grape juice as yet, and they are well satisfied with the mellow taste of the older vintage. Then comes the clincher: they feel that the old is good enough. Either that, or as most translations make it, the old is better. Certainly, in the realm of wine, that is a relatively standard sense. The flavor of the wine generally improves with age, even if the fermentation process has largely completed long since. It is, again, a matter of stating what everybody listening would understand to be undeniably true. Yes, of course it is like that.
How are we to apply it, though? How does this sit together with the answer we have had thus far? Both old wine and new are wine. We have established that. In this case, I think I would have to assume that new wine being referred to is not indeed unfermented, it is perhaps a year old vintage in comparison to the decade old stock. It is not comparing wine to grape juice, it is indeed comparing two very similar yet wholly different things. The natural conclusion of such a comparison is that the older is indeed better. If we are to perceive that message in regards to the old faith and that which was being established in Jesus, it would seem to recommend that His own followers return to the fold of that older faith. This can hardly be the intended point, though.
More likely, it seems to me, is the thought that the new wine certainly has its own strong points. There are things in the flavor and character of that younger vintage which the old cannot offer. Neither is truly better. Again, that comparison we want to make is not really the point He is making. They are simply different in what is accentuated. Truly, when one has been tasting of the old wine, the tongue and the palate are pleased by it. It is not only good enough, it is quite good. In having enjoyed the taste of this mellow old vintage, any desire for the more vigorous flavor of the new is going to be forestalled. Tomorrow, perhaps, there might be interest in it, but for now, this is excellent stock and one feels no need to change.
Therein is the message. For one, the old wine will eventually run out. The faith and hope that has sustained the old religion, the strength it had drawn from its tradition, all this would necessarily fade with time. Sooner or later, if they would taste faith and hope again, they would have little choice but to come to this newer vintage. By then, perhaps it will have become the older vintage, will have that same rich taste.
For others, the wait might not be so long. As they saw these others enjoying the younger, livelier taste of the renewed order, they might be enticed to try it for themselves. They might find the flavor as pleasing in its own way as the old had been. It is just that their tongues, this particular night, were too attuned to that old mellowness to enjoy the new freshness.
Let me conclude, then, that everything old has at some time been new. Likewise, everything new in time becomes old. Neither can be taken as a concrete recommendation and neither is to be rejected out of hand.
I was reading an article earlier today discussing the fault line that exists between Islam and the rest of society. There is a similar fault line that runs the Christianity. We are, in our way, a Church divided. There are those camps who cling firmly to tradition. In some ways and in some cases, tradition has taken a position of primacy even over the Word of God as being the normative measure of what is and what ought to be. Anything that changes in the least from ‘what has always been’ is viewed with deep suspicion, often rejected out of hand without so much as a hearing. In the other camp are those who have so thoroughly embraced the new that nothing older than last month is acceptable. Everything must be constantly fresh, new and improved. Last year’s model of the Faith is no longer good enough. Last year’s worship music no longer does it for us. Last year’s prophetic anointing must be upgraded. Now, it’s the apostolic anointing, and the prophetic just doesn’t cut it. Who knows what it will be next year! The guidelines of tradition, and even of the Word, have largely been cast aside in pursuit of the perpetually new. Both of these are a plague on the House of God! Both have wandered away from what Jesus established.
Tradition, within its proper boundaries is a good thing. Established doctrine, doctrine founded upon a deep and thorough understanding of what God has revealed of Himself in His Word is the fundamental safeguard of the Church. Hidebound religion, on the other hand, is not the Way. That way lies a system so intent on preserving its own new wineskins that they have become old and not noticed. They have carefully guided themselves into that very same place that the Judaism of Jesus’ day had reached – a careful preservation of their faith that wound up excluding the very Object of that faith.
Yet the wanton abandonment of those who run off after every new ‘move of God’ is so devoid of understanding, so ignorant of the warnings that God has spoken to His people as real safeguards, as to be deemed utterly derelict in their duty. Consider: “Do not move the ancient boundary which your fathers have set” (Pr 23:10). Consider: “Ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it. There, you shall find rest for your souls. Oh, but they said, ‘We will not listen’” (Jer 6:16). Consider: “They burn incense to worthless gods. They have stumbled from their ways, from the ancient paths. They no longer walk the highway, but rather turn off to bypaths” (Jer 18:15). Further, there are those many warnings against blindly trusting every spirit. Spirits are to be tested to see if they are from the Lord. How, then, shall you test them, except it be by His revealed will? We are warned not to take signs and wonders as the proof-positive of holiness, for the devil and his co-laborers will display signs and wonders aplenty. Yet, we are simultaneously promised that our ministry in the name of Christ Jesus will be accompanied by signs and wonders, confirming us as His representatives.
Some complain of those who uphold the regulative nature of the Scriptures as having raised the Bible above its Author. I think that claim must bee seen as specious. If anything, we see the Scriptures suffering from near neglect in the other camp. The upholding of Scripture as our own Covenant Law is but the recognition that God has the right of rule over His Church. We may, and often do, differ on how we interpret and understand that written revelation of God, but to set it aside wholly and run off after everything that catches our eyes is worse than folly. It is suicidal!
Somewhere, there is a middle ground. A precious few find it. They are able to recognize the authority of two thousand years of godly admonition and yet allow for the things God is doing here and now. They are willing to put forth the effort required to truly understand and dwell in the message of the Scriptures, and yet accept change when that change is aligned with God’s nature and purpose. It is a hard path to trod, yet it is where we must go. It is so easy to fall aside into what is no more than entertainment. It is so easy to fall aside into rejecting anything and everything that doesn’t look as it always has. It is so easy to fall into decrying the ways of the one camp while turning a blind eye on the failures of our own. God deserves better from us. He deserves a people that will embrace His Word. He insists that His sheep know His voice from every other, and refuse to listen to any other. In the Church of the perpetually new, where is that refusal? He insists that His sheep will follow wherever He leads them. In the Church of the immobile, where is that following? Oh! That the Church of Listening Followers would arise in our day! Oh! That the excesses of ‘Charismatic’ nonsense and the stubborn rejection of the ‘Reformed’ tradition would both be done away with. Oh! That we would take what is the good from both tradition and charismata and emerge into a faith that is both staid and lively, that is both firmly founded in doctrinal certainty and gladly willing to pursue the Lord wherever He may lead!
