An exploration of the theological meaning of the new era Jesus proclaimed amid the controversy over fasting, with a focus on Matthew 9:14–17.
“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth onto an old garment, for the patch pulls away from the garment and makes the tear worse. Nor do people put new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins burst, the wine spills out, and the skins are ruined. New wine must be put into new wineskins, and then both are preserved.”
Matthew 9:16–17
Matthew 9:14–17 follows immediately after Jesus shares a meal with tax collectors and sinners in the home of Matthew (Levi) (Matt. 9:9–13). When the Pharisees object to that meal, Jesus answers, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Matt. 9:13). Immediately afterward, John’s disciples approach him with a different question.
“Then John’s disciples came to Jesus and asked, ‘Why do we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not?’”
Matthew 9:14
Fasting was a central practice of Jewish piety. Although the law commanded fasting only on the Day of Atonement (Lev. 16:29), devout Jews in the first century voluntarily fasted twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. Both John’s disciples and the Pharisees observed this custom. Jesus’ disciples, however, did not. Beneath the question lies a subtle criticism: “Are you not devout?”
Matthew 9 presents a succession of controversies concerning Jesus’ identity. His authority to forgive sins (9:1–8), his table fellowship with sinners (9:9–13), and the controversy over fasting (9:14–17) appear one after another. All three episodes pose the same question from different angles: “Who is this man, and what has he brought?” The parable of the new wine is Jesus’ decisive answer to that question.
Rather than answering the question directly, Jesus responds with three images. Each points to the same truth from a different angle.
“Can the wedding guests mourn while the bridegroom is with them?” As long as the bridegroom is present, it is a time for feasting, not for mourning and fasting. Jesus’ very presence defines the era.
“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth onto an old garment.” New, unwashed cloth shrinks when it gets wet. Sewn onto an old garment, it tears the old fabric as it shrinks. An ill-suited combination brings destruction instead.
“New wine must be put into new wineskins, and then both are preserved.” New wine expands as it ferments and requires supple new wineskins. Old wineskins will burst. Form and content must both be kept intact.
The three images share the same structure. When a new reality meets an old vessel, both are destroyed. Rather than forcing them together, we must prepare a new vessel suited to the new reality. This is the nature of the era Jesus has brought.
In ancient times, wineskins were made of leather. New leather skins are flexible and elastic. As wine ferments, releasing gas and expanding, new skins stretch with it and withstand the pressure. Old skins, however, have already expanded once and then hardened. They have no capacity to stretch further. When new wine begins to ferment and expand within them, they cannot withstand the pressure and burst.
| Aspect | Old Wineskins | New Wineskins |
|---|---|---|
| Condition | Already stretched and hardened | Flexible and elastic |
| When filled with new wine | Cannot withstand expansion and burst | Stretch with the wine and remain intact |
| Result | The wine spills out and the skins are discarded | Both are preserved |
| Theological meaning | The old forms of legalism | A heart renewed in the Spirit |
The point of this parable is not that old things are bad. The old wineskins have served their purpose. The problem is the attempt to force a new reality into an old framework. The Pharisees tried to confine the new life Jesus brought within the old framework of legalism. The result was the destruction of both.
A misunderstanding of the new wine parable can easily lead us to think that Jesus rejected the law. Yet he had already made his position clear in the Sermon on the Mount.
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have not come to abolish them, but to bring them to fulfillment.”
Matthew 5:17
The repeated pattern, “You have been taught this, but I say to you” (throughout Matthew 5), does not abolish the law; rather, Jesus adds to it a law of love that operates on a higher plane. The legal justice of “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth” (Lev. 24:19–20) is brought to fulfillment in the law of love that calls us to love our enemies and turn the other cheek (Matt. 5:39, 44). This is precisely the same principle expressed in the parable of the new wine.
The reality to which the law pointed has now arrived. The Lord has come as the reality to which the tabernacle and the temple pointed. He moves beyond the sins addressed by the law—deeds of the flesh—to the new righteousness of the gospel, which addresses sins of the conscience. The old forms were not wrong. Rather, the reality to which they pointed has arrived with such fullness that it now calls for a new vessel beyond those old forms.
In the Old Testament, God is often portrayed as Israel’s bridegroom. Hosea 2:19–20 declares, “I will betroth you to myself forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love and compassion.” Isaiah 62:5 says, “As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so your God will rejoice over you.” By calling himself the bridegroom, Jesus makes a Christological declaration, implying that he himself is the God of that covenant. Now that the bridegroom is present, the feast for which the old era prepared has at last begun.
What, specifically, do the new wineskins represent? The Old Testament prophets had already foretold this new vessel.
“I will put a new spirit within you and give you a new heart. I will remove the hardened heart from your flesh and give you a tender heart. I will also put my Spirit within you and cause you to walk in my statutes.”
Ezekiel 36:26–27
The new wineskin is a new heart—a spirit that has been born again. John 3:5 says, “Unless a person is born of water and the Spirit, that person cannot enter the kingdom of God.” Regeneration is an event that occurs once. Through this event, a person becomes a new wineskin. Sanctification is the ongoing process within that new wineskin, but the wineskin itself is made new at the moment of regeneration.
The habits and frameworks of the old self cannot contain the new life of the Holy Spirit. Trying to receive new life while clinging to old forms, as the Pharisees did, destroys both. The command to “set your minds on the things above” (Col. 3:2) calls us to break free from old habits and cultivate a heart that is renewed day by day.
Among the seven parables of the kingdom of heaven in Matthew 13, the parable of the leaven (Matt. 13:33) illustrates precisely the same principle as the new wine parable, but through a different image. Leaven is a power of qualitative transformation that causes all three measures of flour to rise. The same principle is at work when new wine ferments and fills a wineskin. The gospel carries a dynamic power of transformation that transcends forms. To contain that power, the vessel itself must be made new.
The kenosis, or self-emptying, of Philippians 2:6–8 means that the one who is equal with God emptied himself and came in the form of a servant. His coming itself marks the beginning of a new era. Jesus did not merely bring new teaching; he brought a new way of being. The bridegroom’s very presence turns the sorrow of the old era, expressed in fasting, into the joy of the new era, expressed in feasting. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near” (Matt. 4:17)—that kingdom has already come with him.
The righteousness of the law addresses deeds of the flesh, such as murder and theft. The new righteousness of the gospel addresses sins of the conscience, such as hatred and covetousness. “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:44) is new wine—love within the heart—that old wineskins, understood as outward observance of the law, cannot contain. Through truth, love, and grace, the blood of Jesus has cleansed even these sins of the conscience. This new righteousness can be held only in new wineskins—a heart renewed by the Spirit—not in old ones.
John 16:7 says, “Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you.” As the era of the Holy Spirit opens, the human heart is fashioned into a new wineskin. The promise of Ezekiel 36:27, “I will put my Spirit within you,” is fulfilled in the coming of the Holy Spirit. A heart indwelt by the Spirit is a new wineskin. Old wineskins—legalism and formalism—cannot contain the freedom and joy that the Spirit’s new life brings.
This principle recurs across the ages. Whenever a fresh work of grace comes, old forms and habits prove inadequate to contain it. The issue is not the new wine itself, but the disposition of the vessel that seeks to hold it.
John’s disciples asked a question about fasting that concerned form. Jesus gave an answer that concerned reality. Now that the bridegroom is with us, it is a time not for sorrow but for joy. Old wineskins cannot contain this joy.
New wine calls for new wineskins. This is a principle of preservation, not destruction. The promise that “both are preserved” is the final word of this parable. When new life comes, our hearts must be renewed along with it so that this life may be fully preserved.
“This is not for the sake of accomplishing anything; rather, he has saved us by grace and called us with a holy calling—not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and the grace given to us in Christ Jesus before time began.”
2 Timothy 1:9
Today, examine your old wineskins. Then receive, with a new heart, the new wine the bridegroom gives. Both will be preserved.