New Wine: Embracing the Finished Work of Christ

Read Matthew 9:14-17

In the hustle of our daily lives, it's easy to cling to the familiar—the routines, traditions, and ways of thinking that have shaped us for years. But what if God is inviting us into something radically new? Something that bursts the seams of our old expectations and fills us with a vibrant, life-giving spirit? Today, as we delve into two parallel parables from Jesus in Matthew 9:14-17, we're invited to reflect on the "new wine" that Christ brings. These stories aren't just ancient tales; they're a call to transformation, pointing to the profound shift Jesus inaugurates through His life, death, and resurrection. As believers under the new covenant, we live in the grace, mercy, and love found only in Him. Let's unpack this together, allowing the Holy Spirit to stir our hearts toward personal renewal.

The scene unfolds right after Jesus calls Matthew, the tax collector, to follow Him. Imagine the buzz: Jesus, this enigmatic teacher, is reclining at a table with the outcasts of society—tax collectors and sinners. These were the people the religious elite avoided like the plague, fearing contamination. The Pharisees, spotting this, whisper to Jesus' disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" Jesus overhears and responds with piercing wisdom: "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.' For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners" (Matthew 9:12-13, ESV).

It's in this charged atmosphere that John's disciples approach Jesus with a question about fasting. "Why do we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?" (Matthew 9:14). This wasn't innocent curiosity; it carried a condescending edge, a subtle jab at Jesus' leadership. John's disciples fasted often, and the Pharisees boasted of fasting twice a week, viewing it as a badge of righteousness, a way to earn favor under the law. But Jesus' followers? They were feasting in His presence, unburdened by such rituals. Jesus doesn't defend or deflect; instead, He redirects their gaze to Himself.

"Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them?" He asks. "The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast" (Matthew 9:15). Here, Jesus reveals His identity as the Messiah, the bridegroom of God's people. This echoes the Old Testament, where God speaks of Israel as His bride. In Isaiah 54:5-8, we read: "For your Maker is your husband, the Lord of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called. For the Lord has called you like a wife deserted and grieved in spirit... For a brief moment I deserted you, but with great compassion I will gather you. In overflowing anger for a moment I hid my face from you, but with everlasting love I will have compassion on you," says the Lord, your Redeemer.

Jesus is declaring that His presence changes everything. While He's with them, it's a time of celebration, not mourning. Fasting will come later, when He's taken away—foreshadowing the cross. But even then, fasting isn't about legalistic striving; it's about drawing near to God, consecrating ourselves to His purposes, and seeking His kingdom on earth. The religious leaders missed this because they couldn't see beyond their rigid traditions. They failed to recognize the bridegroom in their midst.

To drive the point home, Jesus shares two parables. First, the new cloth on an old garment: "No one puts a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch tears away from the garment, and a worse tear is made" (Matthew 9:16). Picture it: A fresh, unshrunk patch sewn onto worn fabric. When washed, the new cloth shrinks, pulling away and worsening the tear. It's incompatible. Similarly, the new wine in old wineskins: "Neither is new wine put into old wineskins. If it is, the skins burst and the wine is spilled and the skins are destroyed. But new wine is put into fresh wineskins, and so both are preserved" (Matthew 9:17). Old wineskins, dried and brittle, can't handle the expansion of fermenting new wine. They'd burst, wasting everything.

These parables aren't about sewing or winemaking; they're metaphors for the seismic shift Jesus brings. The old covenant, represented by the law-keeping of John's disciples and the Pharisees, is passing away. Jesus isn't abolishing the law—He says in Matthew 5:17, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them." By living perfectly under the law, dying on the cross, and rising again, Jesus fulfills its demands. He ushers in a new covenant, not based on our efforts but on His finished work.

The new cloth and new wine symbolize this grace-filled reality. The new wine, in particular, represents the abundant life in Christ—the mercy, love, and the indwelling Holy Spirit. Remember John 7:37-39: "On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, 'If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, "Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water."' Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified." The Holy Spirit, poured out at Pentecost, empowers believers to live in freedom, not bondage.

The old and new are incompatible, like mismatched patches or bursting skins. Trying to mix them leads to destruction. The religious leaders' self-righteousness couldn't contain the radical grace Jesus offered. He came for sinners, not the self-proclaimed righteous. This transition culminates at Calvary, where the old is fulfilled, and the new bursts forth in resurrection power.

Personal Application

Now, let's bring this home personally. As I reflect on these parables, I see my own life mirrored in them. How often have I tried to patch my old ways with a bit of Jesus? Maybe I've clung to legalistic habits—thinking more prayer, more fasting, or more service will make me "good enough"—while ignoring the fresh wine of grace. Or perhaps I've resisted change, holding onto traditions that no longer serve God's purposes. But Jesus invites me—and you—into something new. Have we truly received His gift of salvation? Do we understand that our righteousness is found solely in Him? In this new covenant, God's law is written on our hearts (Jeremiah 31:33), and His Spirit lives within us, making us living vessels of His presence.

Think about your daily walk. Are there areas where you're pouring new wine into old skins? Maybe it's unforgiveness that brittles your heart, preventing the expansion of God's love. Or perhaps it's a reliance on self-effort in your ministry or relationships, leading to burnout instead of Spirit-led fruitfulness. But Jesus calls us to fresh wineskins: flexible, adaptable hearts ready for His new work.

This isn't just theology; it's life-changing. In Him, we experience freedom from condemnation (Romans 8:1). We become conduits of living water, flowing out to a thirsty world. When we embrace the new wine, our lives preserve both the vessel and the wine—us and God's purposes. It's a call to let go of the old: the striving, the judgment, the isolation from "sinners." Instead, like Jesus, we dine with the broken, extending mercy because we've received it.

So, how do we respond? Here are three practical action steps to apply this truth:

1. Examine Your Heart for Old Wineskins: Take time this week to prayerfully reflect on areas where you're clinging to old patterns. Journal about habits, beliefs, or relationships that feel brittle or incompatible with God's grace. Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal them, and commit to surrendering them. For example, if legalism has crept in, replace it with daily affirmations of your identity in Christ.

2. Pursue Fresh Encounters with the Spirit: Intentionally create space for the new wine by fasting—not as a duty, but as an invitation to draw near to God. Set aside one day this week to fast and pray, focusing on John 7:37-39. Seek the infilling of the Holy Spirit, asking for rivers of living water to flow from you. This could mean worship, reading Scripture, or serving others in love.

3. Extend Mercy to the "Sinners" Around You: Follow Jesus' example by reaching out to someone society might label as an outcast. Invite them for coffee, listen to their story, and share the hope of the new covenant. Remember, Jesus desires mercy over sacrifice—let this action step transform your interactions, making you a vessel of His love in your community.

As we close, let's turn our hearts to prayer:

Heavenly Father, thank You for the new wine You pour into our lives through Jesus Christ. Forgive us for clinging to old wineskins, for trying to patch our brokenness with our own efforts. We surrender our brittle hearts to You, asking for fresh vessels ready to hold Your grace, mercy, and love. Holy Spirit, fill us anew—let rivers of living water flow from us, quenching our thirst and spilling over to others. Help us to live under this new covenant, fulfilling Your purposes with joy and freedom. As we examine our hearts, pursue You, and extend mercy, make us instruments of Your kingdom. In Jesus' name, Amen.