Commentary - Matthew 9:14-17

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, we find ourselves in the middle of a series of confrontations that reveal the radical nature of the kingdom Jesus is inaugurating. He has just called Matthew the tax collector and has been feasting with a disreputable crowd, much to the chagrin of the Pharisees. Now another group approaches, not with the same hostility, but with a sincere religious question. The disciples of John the Baptist, men accustomed to the ascetic piety of the old covenant order, want to know why Jesus' disciples don't engage in the same religious disciplines, specifically fasting.

Jesus' answer is a profound declaration that a new era has dawned. He doesn't give them a new set of rules for fasting. Instead, He reframes the entire situation with three powerful metaphors. First, He is the Bridegroom, and His presence is a time for feasting and joy, not mourning. Second, the new life He brings is not a patch for the old, worn-out garment of Judaic legalism; it's a completely new fabric that would tear the old one apart. Third, this new life is like new wine, full of expansive power, that cannot be contained in the brittle, inflexible wineskins of the old covenant structures. The kingdom has arrived, and it requires a complete transformation, not a minor renovation.

Outline

Context In Matthew

This exchange immediately follows the calling of Matthew and the subsequent feast at his house with "tax collectors and sinners" (Matt 9:9-13). The Pharisees had questioned the disciples about why their master ate with such people, and Jesus responded by declaring He came to call sinners, not the righteous. This section, therefore, continues the theme of the radical inclusivity and newness of Jesus' ministry. It demonstrates that the kingdom He brings overturns not only social hierarchies but also the established religious practices of the day. The question from John's disciples is a natural follow-up: if Jesus' associations are so different, what about His approach to traditional piety?

Key Issues

Commentary

A Question About Fasting

14 Then the disciples of John came to Him, asking, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast, but Your disciples do not fast?”

The first thing to note is who is asking the question. These are not the Pharisees, who were consistently hostile to Jesus. These are the disciples of John the Baptist, a man whom Jesus called the greatest of all prophets. These are earnest men, committed to the preparatory ministry of John, which was a ministry of repentance marked by ascetic practices like fasting. Their question is not a trap; it is a genuine inquiry born of confusion. They, along with the Pharisees, held to the established forms of piety. Fasting was a sign of a serious spiritual disposition. They look at Jesus' disciples, who have just been feasting with sinners, and they see a disconnect. Their question is straightforward: "We have a standard of righteousness that includes fasting. The Pharisees, for all their faults, also have this standard. Why do you operate by a different one?" They are judging the substance of Jesus' ministry by the outward forms they are familiar with.

The Bridegroom is Here

15 And Jesus said to them, “Can the attendants of the bridegroom mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? But the days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.”

Jesus' response is brilliant. He doesn't get bogged down in a debate about the merits of fasting. He elevates the conversation entirely. He answers their question with a question of His own, one that reveals the monumental thing that they are missing. He compares His presence with them to a wedding feast. He is the Bridegroom. This is explicit Messianic imagery. God is the husband of Israel in the Old Testament, and the Messiah's coming is likened to a wedding. Jesus is saying, "You are asking about funeral behavior in the middle of a wedding reception." Fasting is associated with mourning, repentance, and longing for something absent. But the Bridegroom is here. The central reality of redemptive history has arrived in person. To fast now would be an insult to the host; it would be to fail to recognize the joyous reality of His presence. This is not the time for mourning; it is the time for feasting.

But notice, He does not eliminate fasting. He reorients it. "The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast." He is looking ahead to His crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. The fasting of the Christian is therefore fundamentally different from the fasting of the old covenant. Christians do not fast to mourn the absence of a Messiah who has not yet come. We fast in the "already, not yet" of the kingdom. We fast out of a deep and abiding longing for the Bridegroom's return. It is a fasting that says, "We miss our King, and we long for the final wedding feast."

The Gospel is Not a Patch

16 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.

Having established the principle of right timing, Jesus now explains the principle of radical incompatibility. He uses two parables from everyday life. The first is about sewing. The old garment is the system of the old covenant as it was being practiced, particularly by the scribes and Pharisees. It was a system that had become threadbare. Jesus did not come to be a patch on that old system. The grace He brings, the life of the kingdom, is like a piece of new, unshrunk cloth. It's robust, strong, and alive. If you try to sew this new, vibrant patch onto the old, brittle fabric of legalism, the first time it gets wet, the first time it is tested, the new patch will shrink and rip the old garment to pieces, making the tear even worse. The gospel is not a supplement to our self-righteous projects. It is a replacement. You cannot simply add Jesus to a life of legalistic rule-keeping. The dynamic power of grace will destroy the static framework of law-righteousness.

New Wine, New Wineskins

17 Nor do people 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.”

The second parable reinforces the first but adds another layer. New wine is an active, fermenting substance. It is expanding, putting pressure on whatever contains it. Old wineskins were leather bottles that, over time, would become hard, dry, and brittle. They had lost their elasticity. If you pour new, fermenting wine into one of these, it's a disaster. The pressure builds, the brittle leather cannot expand, and it bursts. The result is that you lose both the wine and the wineskin. The new wine of the Holy Spirit, the intoxicating joy of the gospel, cannot be contained by the rigid, inflexible structures of man-made religion or old covenant legalism. The gospel creates its own structures. It demands a new heart, a new mind, a new community, the Church. The new covenant requires a new wineskin. You cannot pour the Holy Spirit into the structures of Pharisaism. To attempt to do so is to ruin the container and waste the precious wine. The gospel must be received into soft hearts and flexible structures that are prepared to be expanded by the power of God.

Application

The central lesson here is that the coming of Christ was not a reformation, but a revolution. He did not come to offer us some helpful tips on how to improve our old, sinful lives. He did not come to patch up our failing religious systems. He came to make all things new. This has direct application for us today.

First, we must check our religious motivations. Are our spiritual disciplines, like prayer, Bible reading, or even fasting, performed out of a sense of mournful duty, as though we were trying to earn favor with an absent God? Or do they flow from the joy of knowing the Bridegroom is with us by His Spirit, and will one day return for us? Our piety should be characterized by feasting, not by a grim sense of obligation.

Second, we must resist the temptation to treat the gospel as a patch. We are not called to sew a little bit of Jesus onto our old life of pride, materialism, or worldly ambition. We are called to discard the old garment entirely and be clothed in the righteousness of Christ. The Christian life is not behavior modification; it is total transformation. We are new creations.

Finally, we must ensure that our lives, our families, and our churches are new wineskins. We must be supple, teachable, and ready to be stretched by the new wine of the Spirit. We must not become so rigid in our traditions or methods that we create a structure that cannot contain a fresh move of God. The gospel is alive, and it requires living containers. We must put new wine into new wineskins, and in this way, both the life of the gospel and the people who bear it will be preserved for the glory of God.