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“Neither do people pour new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins will burst; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved.”                                          Matthew 9:17 (NIV)

Jesus uses this simple but profound metaphor to speak to the heart of transformation—both personal and communal. It reminds us that new life, new growth, and new understanding often require a fresh, open, and flexible spirit.

A Gentle Interpretation:

New wine symbolizes new teachings, fresh insight, or the movement of the Spirit. Old wineskins represent the familiar frameworks—habits, traditions, or ways of thinking—that may have once served us well but can become too rigid to hold what God is now doing.

Jesus wasn’t harshly rejecting the past; rather, He was inviting people into something deeper and more alive. His message was not meant to destroy but to preserve—just as new wine in new wineskins ensures that both are kept safe and useful. There’s a beautiful tenderness in that image: it’s not about discarding what was, but about making space for what is becoming.

A Personal Reflection:

When I began teaching in 1992, I noticed that social groups among staff had already taken shape. Our principal once asked me which group I’d end up joining. Years later, he noted something unexpected: I hadn’t become fixed in one group, but seemed to move fluidly between them. That observation touched something in me. I never wanted to be defined by a clique or label—I wanted to be known simply as someone who follows Jesus.

And following Jesus, I’ve learned, means always being open to His quiet work of renewal. He invites us to be flexible, gracious, and ready for change—not for the sake of change, but for the sake of growth, of healing, and of making room for others.

A Gentle Challenge:

God is always doing a renewing work—in us, around us, and through us. The question is: Are we making room for it? Are we becoming the kind of “new wineskins” that can stretch to hold what God is pouring in?

And how about in our communities? In our churches, schools, friend groups—are we making room for others? For new voices, new perspectives, new journeys of faith? Hospitality isn’t just about space—it’s about heart. It’s about choosing welcome over comfort, inclusion over familiarity.

Let’s pray that revival—true, Spirit-led renewal—begins not somewhere out there, but right here. In us.