A Feast of Wines

Part 1

"Come, buy wine...without money and without price." (Isaiah 55:1).

Neither the title nor the text would have much appeal for a temperance worker in the last two centuries or the campaigners of the 21st century fighting the evils of strong drink, yet the words come with assurance and the ringing voice of invitation through one of God’s most eloquent mouthpieces. Teachers and reformers have used the things about them, common to everyday life, to convey to people the messages of God concerning their personal or national life.

From the days of Noah to the Revelation given to John, the books of the Bible are plentifully sprinkled with references to the vineyard, the gathering of the grape harvest and the treading of the winepress. These are references to the drinking of the cup filled with its varying contents to gladden the heart of man, to sadden or madly intoxicate the misguided and weak who drink to excess.

The land of Canaan was rich in vineyards. Grapes grew on the terraced hills and were cultivated with much care and skill. Jacob’s blessing on Judah was of an abundance of vines. choice vines so full of juice that he could, if he had wished, washed his garments in their wine. (Gen.49:11). The words seem an oblique forecast of that one whom Isaiah saw coming from Edom and Bozrah, red in his apparel, his garments like those who tread the winepress. (Isa.63:1‑3). One cluster of the grapes of Eshcol was brought to Joshua by the two spies, hung on a pole carried between them as a specimen of what the promised land could produce. (Num.13:23) To dwell under his own vine was a dream of domestic bliss, a vision of a future prosperity for everyone. The poor did not own vineyards but to those rich enough to build their own houses the vineyard was essential. The vine is a clinging plant originally grown along the ground, later trained on poles, in some instances developed into trees with long sturdy branches from which the grape clusters hung thickly. Severe pruning and rich feeding was the secret of successful vine growing, from which many valuable lessons have been drawn. In the highly picturesque language of the Scriptures the vine illustrates truths on the state of man and society which Jesus, the supreme teacher, was quick to use to further portray his own mission to humankind and his close relationship to his followers. Perhaps no plant has lent itself so readily to metaphor as the vine. Fruitful, painfully pruned, walled or hedged for protection; neglected, wildly entangled, pillaged, trodden down by wild boars, the vineyard presents a clear picture of the varying states of life, singly or as a whole. The keeper of the vineyard was constantly caring, always on the watch for the slightest intrusion of the enemy, "the little foxes, that spoil the vines." (Song of Solomon 2:15) Broken down defences let in larger foes which trampled down and destroyed a promising crop.

Israel was portrayed as such a vineyard, planted by God, whose early promise and fruitfulness was laid waste by wild beasts and casual passers‑by, who plucked at the neglected, broken down vines with contempt and indifference. "Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD" wrote the Psalmist. (33:12) But that nation is in poor shape spiritually and morally which has once known that blessedness and allowed it to be trodden down, treated with derision, losing its fruitfulness and beauty because it neglected to keep its defences in order. When people of faith go out, other things come in, bringing their evils with them. The fruitful vine then deteriorates into a strange vine whose fruit is sour, whose dregs are bitter and of no possible use to the welfare of humanity. In personal life the disorder is no less vivid. The "Song of Solomon" mentions one who was so busy looking after the interests of others she neglected to keep her own in order. "They made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept." (1:6)

The busy person who is full of good works and always on the run from one activity to another, can be forgetful of the maxim that "charity begins at home." Such can be too full of affairs for a little quiet reflection, for silent meditation or a little honest self‑scrutiny. They may be admirable workers for good causes but personal failures in private life. Slackness and carelessness in thoughts and words are the small holes in the hedges through which come nibbling little foxes and later on boars come trampling down faith and truth. Then there are the passers‑by who casually snap their fingers at those whose Christian practice is as undersized and poor as the fruit of a neglected vine. Writing to the Corinthians St. Paul confessed to such a danger in himself, lest having worked and travelled and suffered and preached, he should become a castaway (disqualified) through neglect and cultivation in himself of the fruits of the spirit. (1 Cor.9:27).

Not only Israel, or the church called from all nations, have been the vineyard of God, but in a larger sense the earth and the whole human race. In each case the owner of the vineyard is portrayed as a careful husbandman who has planned and planted, provided the watch tower and the wine press, expecting fruit in due season from those to whom he has leased the work of cultivation. But those tenants or work‑people refuse the owner his just dues. Arrogantly regarding the property as their own they heat down all demands and opposition to their own claims. While God claims Israel, the church, and the earth, as the work of his hands, there has been a strong move to deny that claim, to get on without him and to take the fruit and the credit as their own just dues and accomplishments. This is a situation to which there is only one humiliating remedy, a severe rebuke by the lawful owner.

The vat and the winepress are essential equipment to the vine grower, for the grapes are not grown merely to look luxuriously tempting to the eye and taste. They are grown to be crushed together into a common pool in which all their identity is lost in bringing vigour and satisfaction to those who partake in moderation of the life‑giving fluid, for as such it was regarded by the ancients. Sweet wine was part of the priestly offering on both pagan and holy altars, designated by connoisseurs as "the nectar of the gods." Its medicinal values were recognized by that "Hebrew of the Hebrews" who advised his young friend Timothy to "use a little wine for the sake of your stomach." (1 Tim.5:23 RSV).

Like every good thing provided for the pleasure and use of people wine has been grossly abused. From first to last its intoxicating effects have reduced the over indulgent to a state of stuttering, reeling, helplessness which lowers human dignity. If metaphorical wine be the social, religious and political doctrines of nations by which they too have become drunken from time to time by the potency of strong and strange delusions, it cannot be surprising to find them reeling to and fro in a perilous state of collapse. Under such symbols of a brimming wine‑cup, vats overflowing with wickedness, grapes of wrath trodden by anger in a mighty press, of inhabitants drunk on the heady wine of lawlessness, a picture is vividly drawn of a world hopelessly mad, out of control and in urgent need of attention. Jesus described himself as the True Vine, so implying a false vine, a counterfeit plant whose fruit was as deadly as his own was life‑giving, a plant which like the tares sown by the enemy hand would have to be dealt with in due time and its evil fruits destroyed.

The juice of grapes was originally extracted by crushing them between two stones and the resultant liquid was the sweet or best of the wine. The rest was trodden by the feet and the gushing liquid later fermented for more general use. Thus there were and still remain in some old vineyards both the press and the vat for first and second grade wines. There were even third and fourth grades, sour and unrefined, the daily drink of the poor in purse. Often those who trod the grapes were dyed to the thighs with the rich juice, their garments soaked and splashed as they trod with strength and shouts of triumph the glistening loads cut and carted from the sunny terraces to their ultimate destiny. It is of such scenes that Isaiah writes when he asks, "Who is this coming...with his garments stained red? ...Why are your clothes all red like the garments of one treading grapes in the winepress?" to which comes the ominous answer "I have trodden the press alone for none of my people was with me. I trod the nations in anger. and all my clothing was stained." (Isa.63:1‑3*). The grapes of wrath and the Divine trampling of the winepress have passed into classical literature as that action which may be seen or expected when righteous indignation moves against deliberate wickedness. It is a thorough stamping out of evils which slander His Holy Name, which mock all that is good, just, and virtuous and which destroys life without mercy or regret. It even affects the beauty of the earth by a ruthless exploitation of its treasures. It is an ever‑present warning to the waywardness of man, a statement of fact that the evil fruits of the world must at some time be cut down and cast into the winepress to meet their inevitable end at the hands and under the feet of Divine justice.

There are other less forceful pictures in which the domestic element is invoked for the encouragement of those struggling with the ups and downs of life, who endeavour to accept philosophically its iniquities, and find some pleasure in the mixed cup of their own lot. They have something to sing about as did those who cheerfully left their homes to lodge in tents in the vineyards during the time of the grape harvest. Whatever their share of the spoils or their pay for a day’s labour, they rejoiced together. They piled up the baskets or carried them shoulder high to the vat to fling the bunches between the great presses or tread them underfoot to emerge as good wine to gladden the heart of the husbandman or add sparkle to some local feast. Such a feast was the marriage at Cana where Jesus was an invited guest.

To be continued)
FAS