'And He went forth again by the sea side; and all the multitude
resorted unto Him, and He taught them. 14. And as He passed by, he saw
Levi the son of Alphæus sitting at the receipt of custom, and said
unto him, Follow me. And he arose and followed Him. 15. And it came to
pass, that, as Jesus sat at meat in his house, many publicans and
sinners sat also together with Jesus and His disciples: for there were
many, and they followed Him. 16. And when the scribes and Pharisees
saw Him eat with publicans and sinners, they said unto His disciples,
How is it that He eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners! 17.
When Jesus heard it, He saith unto them, They that are whole have no
need of the physician, but they that are sick: I came not to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance. 18. And the disciples of John
and of the Pharisees used to fast: and they come and say unto Him, Why
do the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but Thy disciples
fast not! 19. And Jesus said unto them, Can the children of the
bridechamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them! as long as they
have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. 20. But the days will
come, when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then
shall they fast in those days. 21. No man also seweth a piece of new
cloth on an old garment: else the new piece that filled it up taketh
away from the old, and the rent is made worse. 22. And no man putteth
new wine into old bottles: else the new wine doth burst the bottles,
and the wine is spilled, and the bottles will be marred: but new wine
must be put into new bottles.'--Mark ii. 13-22.
By calling a publican, Jesus shocked 'public opinion and outraged
propriety, as the Pharisees and scribes understood it. But He touched
the hearts of the outcasts. A gush of sympathy melts souls frozen hard
by icy winds of scorn. Levi (otherwise Matthew) had probably had
wistful longings after Jesus which he had not dared to show, and
therefore he eagerly and instantly responded to Christ's call, leaving
everything in his custom-house to look after itself. Mark emphasises
the effect of this advance towards the disreputable classes by Jesus,
in his repeated mention of the numbers of them who followed Him. The
meal in Matthew's house was probably not immediately after his call.
The large gathering attracted the notice of Christ's watchful
opponents, who pounced upon His sitting at meat with such 'shady'
people as betraying His low tastes and disregard of seemly conduct,
and, with characteristic Eastern freedom, pushed in as uninvited
spectators. They did not carry their objection to Himself, but
covertly insinuated it into the disciples' minds, perhaps in hope of
sowing suspicions there. Their sarcasm evoked Christ's own 'programme'
of His mission, for which we have to thank them.
I. We have, first, Christ's vindication of His consorting with the
lowest. He thinks of Himself as 'a physician,' just as He did in
another connection in the synagogue of Nazareth. He is conscious of
power to heal all soul-sickness, and therefore He goes where He is
most needed. Where should a doctor be but where disease is rife? Is
not his place in the hospital? Association with degraded and vicious
characters is sin or duty, according to the purpose of it. To go down
in the filth in order to wallow there is vile; to go down in order to
lift others up is Christ's mission and Christ-like.
But what does He mean by the distinction between sick and sound,
righteous and sinners? Surely all need His healing, and there are not
two classes of men. Have not all sinned? Yes, but Jesus speaks to the
cavillers, for the moment, in their own dialect, saying, in effect, 'I
take you at your own valuation, and therein find My defence. You do
not think that you need a physician, and you call yourselves
'righteous and these outcasts 'sinners.' So you should not be
surprised if I, being the healer, turn away to them, and prefer their
company to yours.' But there is more than taking them at their own
estimate in the great words, for to conceit ourselves 'whole' bars us
off from getting any good from Jesus. He cannot come to the
self-righteous heart. We must feel our sickness before we can see Him
in His true character, or be blessed by His presence with us. And the
apparent distinction, which seems to limit His work, really vanishes
in the fact that we all are sick and sinners, whatever we may think of
ourselves, and that, therefore, the errand of the great Physician is
to us all. The Pharisee who knows himself a sinner is as welcome as
the outcast. The most outwardly respectable, clean-living, orthodoxly
religious formalist needs Him as much, and may have Him as healingly,
as the grossest criminal, foul with the stench of loathsome disease.
That great saying has changed the attitude towards the degraded and
unclean, and many a stream of pity and practical work for such has
been drawn off from that Nile of yearning love, though all unconscious
of its source.
II. We have Christ's vindication of the disciples from ascetic
critics. The assailants in the second charge were reinforced by
singular allies. Pharisees had nothing in common with John's
disciples, except some outward observances, but they could join forces
against Jesus. Common hatred is a wonderful unifier. This time Jesus
Himself is addressed, and it is the disciples with whom fault is
found. To speak of His supposed faults to them, and of theirs to Him,
was cunning and cowardly. His answer opens up many great truths, which
we can barely mention.
First, note that He calls Himself the 'bridegroom'--a designation
which would surely touch some chords in John's disciples, remembering
how their Master had spoken of the 'bridegroom' and his 'friend.' The
name tells us that Jesus claimed the psalms of the 'bride-groom' as
prophecies of Himself, and claimed the Church that was to be as His
bride. It speaks tenderly of His love and of our possible blessedness.
Next, we note the sweet suggestion of the joyful life of the disciples
in intercourse with Him. We perhaps do not sufficiently regard their
experience in that light, but surely they were happy, being ever with
Him, though they knew not yet all the wonder and blessedness which His
presence involved and brought. They were a glad company, and
Christians ought now to be joyous, because the bridegroom is still
with them, and the more really so by reason of His ascending up where
He was before. We have seen Him again, as He promised, and our hearts
should rejoice with a joy which no man can take from us.
Next, we note Christ's clear prevision of His death, the violence of
which is hinted at in the words, 'Shall be taken away from them.'
Further, we note the great principle that outward forms must follow
inward realities, and are genuine only when they are the expression of
states of mind and feeling. That is a far-reaching truth, ever being
forgotten in the tyranny which the externals of religion exercise. Let
the free spirit have its own way, and cut its own channels. Laughter
may be as devout as fasting. Joy is to be expressed in religion as
well as grief. No outward form is worth anything unless the inner man
vitalises it, and such a mere form is not simply valueless, but may
quickly become hypocrisy and conscious make-believe.
III. Jesus adds two similes, which are condensed parables, to deal
with a wider question rising out of the preceding principles. The
difference between His disciples' religious demeanour and that of
their critics is not merely that the former are not now in a mood for
fasting, but that a new spirit is beginning to work in them, and
therefore it will go hard with a good many old forms besides fasting.
The essential point in both the similes of the raw cloth stitched on
to the old, and of the new wine poured into stiff old skins, is the
necessary incongruity between old forms and new tendencies. Undressed
cloth is sure to shrink when wetted, and, being stronger than the old,
to draw its frayed edges away. So, if new truth, or new conceptions of
old truth, or new enthusiasms, are patched on to old modes, they will
look out of place, and will sooner or later rend the old cloth. But
the second simile advances on the first, in that it points not only to
harm done to the old by the unnatural marriage, but also to mischief
to the new. Put fermenting wine into a hard, unyielding, old
wine-skin, and there can be but one result,--the strong effervescence
will burst the skin, which may not matter much, and the precious wine
will run out and be lost, sucked up by the thirsty soil, which matters
more. The attempt to confine the new within the limits of the old, or
to express it by the old forms, destroys them and wastes it. The
attempt was made to keep Christianity within the limits of Judaism; it
failed, but not before much harm had been done to Christianity. Over
and over again the effort has been made in the Church, and it has
always ended disastrously,--and it always will. It will be a happy day
for both the old and the new when we all learn to put new wine into
new skins, and remember that 'God giveth it a body as it hath pleased
Him, and to every seed his _own_ body.'