What would we say is the dominant mood of the Christian in this world? Is it joy or sadness? Is it peace or anxiety? Is it contentment or discontentment? It would have to be praise, joy, and contentment. Why? Because we know that we have been reconciled with God. Our sins have been forgiven. We have the gift of the Holy Spirit indwelling us. We have the promise and certainty of eternal life. Given all this, given this good news, how could we not say that peace, joy, and contentment make up the dominant mood of the Christian life? How could it be otherwise? This is not to discount the persecution and the suffering of Christians. Yet, because we enjoy God (whom we know and with whom we are at peace), we also enjoy His world. We are able to “rejoice always,” “in everything give thanks,” enjoy a “peace that passes comprehension,” and contentment in all our circumstances (Phil 4:4; 1 Thess 5:18; Phil 4:7, Phil 4:11).

The  this-worldliness and happy mood of Christianity has sometimes disturbed those inclined to see proper religion, and serious religion as consisting of various forms of self-deprivation  and ascetic practices along with requisite “gloomy” faces (Mt 6:16). Jesus confronts this outlook in our passage and answers it by identifying Himself as the “bridegroom,” and likening the mood created by His presence to that of a wedding feast.

The complaint            

^“And they said to him, "The disciples of John fast often and offer prayers, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours eat and drink."” (v 33)

“They” are not identified in Luke, but in Matthew “they” are identified as the disciples of John (Mt 9:14). They, and perhaps others, question why those who are religiously devout, the disciples of John and the Pharisees, “often fast and offer prayers”, but the disciples of Jesus don’t. They “eat and drink.” Practices expected of the godly are absent from the lives of Jesus’ disciples. The hallmarks of piety in first century Judaism are missing. Serious Jews fasted on Monday and Thursday, from sunrise to sunset (Lk 18:12). Prayers were offered three times per day at noon, 3 PM, and 6 PM. The devout fasted on the Day of Atonement (Lev 16:29), and also for four days in memory of the destruction of Jerusalem (Zech 7:3, 5; 8:19). “Fasting,” says Marshall, “was a sign of religious zeal in the sight of God.”[1] It was, adds N. T. Wright, “a sign of waiting, of bewailing the present time when God’s kingdom still had not arrived.”[2]  

Beyond fasting, we’ve already seen that the disciples of Jesus didn’t practice separation from “sinners,” which the devout were expected to practice (5:27-32). Ahead, we will see that they didn’t observe the Sabbath restrictions insisted upon by the Pharisees, that went far beyond those required by the Law of God (6:1-11). The question is, if they are devout, why don’t they do these things?

The answer

 ^“And Jesus said to them, ‘Can you make wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them.’” (v 34)     

Jesus’ answer is that this is a new era requiring a new mood. He likens Himself to a bridegroom. Prior to His arrival, the mood was one of sadness because the kingdom had not yet arrived. Fasting and prayerful laments were characteristic. The people of God grieved their existing circumstances and longed for the arrival of the Messiah and His reign. However, now He has arrived. This is a new time. The circumstances of Jesus and His disciples are analogous to that of a bridegroom and “wedding guests” or “attendants” (NASB) at the time of a wedding celebration. One does not fast at a friend’s wedding reception. One celebrates by eating and drinking. One rejoices with others, and mutual participation in food and drink are a means of expressing that joy. Fasting would be inappropriate. Fasting would not be suited to the occasion, even contrary to the nature of the occasion. We are to rejoice in the presence of the bridegroom. Why would disciples then and now rejoice? Because we have drunk new wine of the gospel (Jn 2:1ff).  Because we have feasted upon the bread of life (Jn 6:35). Our joy is like that of a wedding banquet. Fasting at this point “would have been highly incongruous and artificial,” Gooding maintains.[3] We celebrate the presence of our bridegroom.

Does this mean that Jesus’ disciples never fast? Not at all.

“The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days." (v. 35)

They will fast when the bridegroom is “taken away”, which happened at the time of Christ’s crucifixion. The time between Jesus’ death and resurrection would be a time of sorrow. Jesus said they would “weep and lament” (Jn 16:20-22). Believers also may fast whenever they are in the midst of a spiritual battle. Jesus gave positive counsel on fasting (Mt 6.16-18), and the early church fasted on special occasions of prayer (Acts 13:2ff; 14:23). However, fasting as a meritorious work, or fasting as an ascetic practice designed to secure the favor of God is strictly forbidden. Asceticism is repudiated. Those who say “do not handle, do not taste, do not touch”, who advocate “self-abasement and severe treatment of the body” are denounced (Col. 2:20-23, NASB). Those who “forbid marriage and advocate abstaining from foods” are said to preach the “doctrines of demons” (1 Tim 4:1-5, NASB). Essentially fasting is not a thing in itself but a means to an end. Fasting allows the time devoted to the preparation, consumption, and cleanup of meals to be devoted to prayer. The value in fasting is that it allows time for prayer, all manner of prayer. Christians, then, do fast.

How, then, are we to classify the time between Christ’s ascension and His return? Is this a period when He is away, and therefore a time characterized by fasting, or a time when He is present, and therefore a time of feasting? Surely it is the latter. Once Pentecost occurred the church began to enjoy Christ’s continual presence with it. The separation was short-lived, it was but “a little while.” Jesus promised, “again, a little while, and you will see me” (Jn 16:16-19). Once He was raised from the dead, there was no more need to mourn His absence. “Your sorrow will be turned to joy!” “I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one takes your joy away” (Jn 16:20-24, cf. vs. 5-15). Fasting, then, while appropriate at times, does not characterize our age. Feasting does. Why? Because of the spiritual presence of Christ. Christ provides us with a continual spiritual feast. Through His atoning death and bodily resurrection we enjoy the forgiveness of sins, reconciliation with God, the indwelling of the Spirit of Christ, and the certainty of eternal life. All the big issues of life and eternity have been resolved. I am a member of the family of God, God is sanctifying me by His Holy Spirit, and one day I will be glorified (Rom 8:16-37). I am safe and secure, now and forever.

The dominant mood of the Christian life, then, is joy, peace, gratitude, and contentment. We (let us remind ourselves again) “rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4). We experience a “peace that passes understanding” because we have “peace with God” (Phil 4:7, Rom 5:1). In everything we give thanks (1 Thess 5:18). We are content in all our circumstances (Phil 4:11). Grace has been lavished upon us (Eph 1:8). The blessings of God have been poured out “exceeding abundantly beyond all that we could ask or think” (Eph 3:20). The Christian life is characterized by joy, peace, gratitude, contentment. We are feasting in the presence of the bridegroom.

If we might explore the metaphor further, we are also basking in His love. The church is not only the wedding guest, but also identified as the bride of Christ, the bride of the bridegroom. The title “bridegroom” teaches us about Jesus’ deep and tender love for us, His people. Not only is He our King and we his subjects, our Lord, and we His servants, but He is our bridegroom and we are His beloved bride. He lays down His life for us. He nourishes and cherishes us. He loves us and cares for us as He does His own body (Eph 5:29-30). We are His beloved bride (Rev 21:2).

This is not to say that we never experience grief, or never mourn. Jesus warns of tribulation (Jn 16:33). Yet even then, the Apostle Paul says, we are “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” (2 Cor 6:10). Even in our tears we retain an unshakable joy, peace, gratitude, and contentment in Christ Jesus. 

Years ago, Scott and Janet Willis were heading down Interstate 94 with their six children. A piece of metal fell off of a truck, punctured the gas tank of the minivan, which burst into flames. All six of their children were burned to death. Their response as they were lifted into the ambulance, each badly burned? Psalm 34: “I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.” “It was very quick”, Scott said to Janet. “And they’re with the Lord now.”[4] That is Christian peace, Christian gratitude, Christian contentment, and Christian joy in the presence of the bridegroom.

Parable

Jesus then tells a parable further to illustrate His meaning:

“He also told them a parable: "No one tears a piece from a new garment and puts it on     an old garment. If he does, he will tear the new, and the piece from the new will not match the old.” (v. 36)

“Parable” can refer to a “short, pithy saying”, as Morris describes it, what we might call a proverb, as well as to the more conventional story parable.[5] This one has three parts, each concerned with an old thing (Judaism) and the new thing (Christians and Christianity). The first is slightly different than the similar story in Mark, where the parable speaks of  “unshrunk cloth” which, when it does shrink, tears the old garment onto which it was sewn resulting in a worse tear  (Mk 2:21). Here He speaks of tearing a piece from a new garment to patch an old garment, ruining the new, and resulting in a patch that doesn’t match the old. Clearly Jesus as an itinerant preacher used the same illustrations repeatedly yet in slightly different forms. The point? No one mutilates a new garment in order to save an old garment. The new patch will never match anyway. One cannot graft the new, Christianity, onto the old, that is, Judaism. There was a mood suitable to the period prior to the arrival of the Messiah, and there were practices compatible with that mood. However, now the new has arrived and it can’t be attached to the old. It won’t work. Jesus is not, at this point criticizing Judaism per se. It served its purpose in its time, the period prior to Jesus’ arrival. However, each era has its own integrity which cannot be compromised by combining it with something else.

The second part of the parable speaks of new wineskins.

“And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins and it will be spilled, and the skins will be destroyed. But new wine must be put into fresh wineskins.” (vs. 37, 38)

Wineskins lose their elasticity over time. New wine ferments and expands in its container. If new wine is put into old wineskins, the old skins will be unable to expand and will burst under the pressure. The point? “Jesus is not simply patching up Judaism.” Rather, “He is teaching something radically new.”[6] His teaching cannot be contained within the old wineskins of Judaism with its fasting, its rules of separation, its dietary restrictions, its cleansing laws, and  its overly restrictive Sabbath. Christianity cannot be contained in a temple and its priesthood, its altars and sacrifices, its distinctions between clean and unclean, and its calendar of holy days. Christians should not seek to reinstitute these things because they are contrary to the nature of Christianity and the era in which we are living. Yet as Gooding points out, “Christendom has not always resisted the temptation of imaging that the Christian gospel can be expressed in rituals, ceremonies, sacrifices, and priestly orders taken over from Judaism.”[7] Christians, at times, have endeavored to revive or replicate the temple, the altar, the priesthood, the sacrifices, the incense, the processionals, and the dietary restrictions. These are old wineskins that cannot contain Christianity. Don’t turn to sacerdotalism. Don’t turn to ritualism. Don’t turn to asceticism. They had their place. They served a purpose for a time. But they are contrary to the new era of joy in the redemption purchased for us by Christ.

            “And no one after drinking old wine desires new, for he says, 'The old is good.” (v. 39)

Finally, Jesus is warning of a destructive conservatism or traditionalism. Many will be so content with the old wine, Judaism, that they will not try the new. Gooding points out that “nothing disrespectful is said of Judaism. The garment of Judaism is old; but there is no denying that it was a good, God-given garment in its day.”[8] However Jesus represents a new day of grace and truth which the old forms cannot accommodate (Jn 1:17). Some will be tempted to stick with the old responsibilities and burdens and miss the joy, the freedom of the new. We may remember how the exodus generation yearned for the leeks and melons of Egypt, though Egypt meant slavery. A surprising percentage of people in the Old Soviet Republics look back nostalgically to the days of Stalin, though he murdered and enslaved tens of millions of their countrymen. Christ fulfills and replaces the temple, priests, and rituals of the Old Testament. His presence makes superfluous the asceticism and self-deprivation and restrictions of the old covenant. Don’t cling to the old just because it is old. Age, of itself, is no virtue. Accept the new wine and wineskins of Christianity. Enjoy the presence of the bridegroom and celebrate his gifts in a world filled with His goodness.