We’ve said before that no one knows exactly how many parables Jesus used. We don’t even know how many we have in the gospels for the simple reason we can’t agree on what a parable actually is.

The stories–a certain man had two sons, that sort of thing–are clear enough and no one argues that they fit the genre. But how about Matthew 9:15-17? Is this a parable? Is it three parables?

Bear in mind that in the famous 15th chapter of Luke where we have Jesus’ parables on the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost boy (i.e., the prodigal son), Luke introduces them with, “Jesus told them this parable.” He says it like all these are just one story.

So, let’s approach the three illustrations of Matthew 9:15-17 as one entity. After all, the Lord gave them all in answer to one question.

When we begin to look at a parable, bear in mind that unless we establish what question the Lord is answering, it will be meaningless.

In this case, there are two questions. There is the question from the disciples of John the Baptist (“why do we have to fast and your disciples do not?”) and there is the broader question behind it, one with meaning for us.

First, the two questions. Then the three answers.

The two questions….

1) “Then the disciples of John came to Him saying, ‘Why do we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?'”

No one enjoys fasting. It’s easier to eat and better to keep one’s strength up. The Pharisees had made a career of fasting. They did it on Mondays and Thursdays, refraining from food but not drink. And if they are the hypocrites Jesus mentioned in Matthew 6:16, they made sure everyone knew they were fasting by their facial expressions. These guys were proud of their humility!

John’s disciples fasted too. We’re not told how often. Doubtless, if they took their lead from their master, they were fasting in anticipation of the coming ministry of the Messiah.

On the surface, the question from John’s disciples carries a little irritation (envy?) with it. “Why do we have to do all this hard stuff and your disciples get off easy?”

2) The question behind the question. Judging by the three-fold answer our Lord gave, the larger question–not that the disciples of John realized it at the time–was, “Why don’t the old rules apply to this new thing God is doing?” Or, put another way: “Why isn’t Jesus obeying the established order?” That is, “Why aren’t you staying with our program?”

That was an issue the Pharisees and also the early church contended with for a long time. The Pharisees and the ruling Sanhedrin were in the catbird seat, calling the shots, establishing how faithful Jews would be conducting themselves. So long as Jesus played by their rules, they would give Him no trouble. Alas, He didn’t. He healed people on the Sabbath, fasted only when He chose to and did not require it at all of His disciples, and received worship. In His preaching, He said, “You have heard…but I say to you.” He cited Himself as the authority, something bound to set off fireworks among the guardians of orthodoxy.

In the early church, the matter of whether Gentiles had to become Jews in order to be saved (and thus become Christians) was critical. Those who answered, “Yes,” are called “Judaizers.” The implications were enormous. Imagine going to someone’s house to witness and informing the seeker that to be saved, he would have to be circumcised and start keeping the entire law. Good news of the gospel? Hardly.

The first church council, reported in Acts 15, was convened to settle that issue. Since the Lord had made clear both to Peter in Acts 10 and to Paul and Barnabas on their initial missionary journey that the answer was “absolutely not!” the church leaders made this official doctrine. (Give ’em credit; they got it right.)

The gospel of Christ was a new thing from Heaven. It was built on the teachings and prophecies of the law and the prophets, it had its correlations in the sacrificial system, its insights could be found in the typology of the Tabernacle and the Temple, and this New Testament (i.e., New Covenant) would fit securely atop the Old Testament as its foundation, but this was a brand new thing God was up to. Make no mistake.

It would not be bound by the laws and rules which were all shadows, for which the gospel is the substance. They were the rituals, for which the gospel is the reality.

The three answers….

1) “The members of the wedding party don’t mourn while the bridegroom is with them, do they? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they can fast.” (Matt. 9:15)

Wedding parties gathered at the home of the bride. When the groom and his attendants arrived, the festivities began. In those days, these things seem to have lasted for days. No one fasted during this time. It was party time! Time to eat and enjoy themselves.

Finally, it’s all over, the bride and groom leave for their new home and everyone quits eating and goes to their own homes.

That’s all He’s saying. You don’t mourn and fast when you ought to be rejoicing and feasting.

Can we pause here long enough to make the point that “Jesus thought He was someone special”? He did. He knew exactly who He was. Anyone doubting that should drop over to Matthew 11 and read verse 27.

“All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father; nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son wills to reveal Him.”

Once in a while we’ll find people dismissing Jesus’ claims of deity as the concoctions of the Apostle John, since his gospel is so saturated with statements such as 14:6, “No one comes to the Father but through me.” However, such critics are guilty of not reading the text they are criticizing. Matthew 11:27 is as strong as it gets.

Jesus is the bridegroom of this parable and it’s feasting time! (See John 3:29 where John the Baptist himself uses the analogy of the Messiah as the bridegroom.)

Interestingly, concerning fasting, the Lord seems to have assumed His disciples would be fasting at various times. However, He did not command it, but laid down a few principles on how it was to be done. (See Matthew 6) We assume therefore it was strictly up to the individual. In my own life, the times when I have found fasting to be beneficial was when I was seeking direction from the Spirit in some matter and needed an answer.

2) “But no one puts a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; for the patch pulls away from the garment, and a worse tear results.” (Matt. 9:16)

It’s fun going over this with senior adults, because they remember. A couple of generations ago–we’re talking the 1950s now–so many magazine and newspaper ads for clothing would boast that “It’s Sanforized!” All that meant was that the material was pre-shrunk and one could purchase the clothing in the size needed. Mothers were so used to buying clothing a size larger than needed since it would be shrinking with the first wash.

The point here is to simply say, “Combining these two–the old order and this new thing God is doing–will not work.” They are not compatible.

Our generation knows about compatibility. A new computer program comes out, and the first thing techies want to know is whether it’s compatible–whether it will fit and work–with the old system, or whether they’ll have to buy something entirely new.

The gospel is not an add-on to the old system. It is a new order, a new way of life.

This was the realization that engulfed every faithful Jew who turned to Christ in humility and faith. “Old things are passed away; all things are made new.” (II Corinthians 5:17)

When Paul came to Christ–or to be more exact, when Christ came to Paul!–on the Damascus Road, over the next few days and weeks the reality of what this meant settled in on him. That’s why he tells us in Galatians 1 that he spent the better part of the next 3 years in the Arabian desert with the Lord, presumably assimilating God’s new message and seeing how it grew out of the old one.

3) “Nor do men put new wine into old wineskins; otherwise, the wineskins burst, and the wine pours out, and the wineskins are ruined; but they put new wine into fresh wineskins and both are preserved.” (Matt. 9:17)

A friend of mine has formed a quartet in his church, with all four singers being senior adult men. When he said they needed a name, I suggested “Fine Wine” because it is “aged to perfection.” I liked the name, thought it rather clever, and it might have stuck, but his pastor shot it down in a heartbeat. “We’re Baptists,” he smiled. “We don’t drink wine.”

I understand that. I don’t drink it either. But it’s all through Scripture.

There is not the slightest doubt in my mind that if we were allowed, many in our denomination would scissor out Jesus’ references to wine of any kind, old or new.

Some years ago, I wrote a pamphlet for a denominational agency, a facetious piece on “How to Justify Social Drinking from the Bible.” Not to belabor the point here–originally, I planned to make only a passing reference to this–but the end result of the article was that in those days, the worst that could happen to a fellow who had over-imbibed was to fall off his camel and break an arm. These days, a man drinks too much, gets behind the wheel of a high-powered automobile and takes out a family of five on the highway. There are good reasons aplenty for choosing to avoid all intoxicating beverages, and that includes beer and wine.

That said, the point of the parable is that new wine is still fermenting. It bubbles and expands and so its container must have some give and take.

Sheep bladders were sometimes used as bottles, we’re told, but a wineskin would be a goatskin (and thus leather) that was tanned and sewn back together, leaving one opening. A new wineskin is soft and pliable.

An old wineskin has grown stiff and inflexible. There is no longer any give and take. Pour new fermenting wine into such a container and it would soon burst at the seams.

Flexibility has to be built into all kinds of systems. Skyscrapers must be able to sway with the wind, we’re told. Likewise, bridges are built in sections with flexible joints so as they freeze or heat up, they can expand or contract as needed without compromising the integrity of the bridge.

The implications of this particular parable (or one-third of a parable, if you prefer) for God’s children are enormous.

How many people do you know who call themselves followers of Jesus are set in their ways? They want the same songs they grew up on and resist new ones (in clear violation of commands throughout Scripture to “sing unto the Lord a new song”!!). They want the same organizations, the same methodology, and the same terminology. They resist new musical instruments, screens and projectors, and choruses. We facetiously say they are trying to recapture 1955.

As a senior adult myself–70 my next birthday–I frequently remind my peers that the 1950s were not the Golden Age of the church some seem to remember. The pastors then were decrying the ungodly lives of church members, liberal doctrines in the denominational offices, and worldliness among leaders. In the meantime, racism was rampant even in our churches and the number of missionaries being sent across the world was a small fraction of the number going today.

As someone has said, “Nostalgia is not what it used to be. It never was.”

When Luke gives his account of Jesus’ teachings on wine and wineskins, he adds a word that needs to be said.

“And no one, after drinking old wine, wishes for new, for he says, ‘The old is good enough.” (Luke 5:39)

Got that? It’s an admission from our Lord of something we already new: people like the old stuff, the old ways, the familiar, the comfortable. We like our routines and treasure our ruts.

My dad was angry when Mom and my siblings tossed out his old chair and replaced it with a new recliner. In fact, he resisted sitting in it for months before finally giving in. These days, we look at that chair and remember that wonderful old gentleman sitting in it, watching a ball-game on television, and get teary-eyed. We miss him so much. He came to love that chair.

This poses a challenge for God’s pastors and other spiritual leaders. We are asking people to move out of their comfort zone and participate in the new thing God has for them.

They’re going to resist. Get used to the idea.

But we must not give in and go along to get along. Those who are leaders of the Lord’s church and preachers of the Word must keep the pressure on. Keep calling people to look up, to rise up, to stand up, to obey the Father and to stay alert for change.

Change. Bad word, isn’t it. But that’s the point of new wineskins. They have to be flexible, changeable, adaptable, otherwise they are worthless.

That’s why a lot of churches I know have died over the years. They resisted the Holy Spirit, they reacted against the changes coming into their world and they erected barriers that would protect their church. But it didn’t work. Instead of protecting Truth, they resisted the Spirit, and God let them die.

“His mercies are new every morning,” says Lamentations 3:22-23.

Not only His mercies, His compassions, but also everything else about the Lord seems to be fresh and unspoiled with each new sunrise. God loves variety. He seems to have an innate dislike for doing the same thing twice, whether it’s creating a fingerprint, a voiceprint, or the stripes on a zebra or tiger. There seems to be no limit to His creativity.

You are a disciple of Jesus Christ? Good. Buckle your seatbelt, friend. It’s going to be a great ride. Boring? Ha. You’ve got to be kidding.

This is the adventure of a lifetime.