I love wine. 

Ever since I moved to Virginia in my early twenties, I have been taking full advantage of the wine scene that started here centuries ago. I’ve worked at a winery and a wine bar and have made it my mission to visit as many wineries in VA as I can (currently at about 63 and counting out of 300). 

And as many wine tasters agree, oftentimes, the wine that has been aged longer in older barrels has the bolder, better taste. Though recent trends have also pointed to some wines with a younger vintage do have a lot to offer as well, including maybe even a fresher, crisper feel. 

Spoiler: this blog isn’t really about wine. Nor was the Scripture verse that I was meditating on as we started the New Year. Ordinary Time began with the Gospel of the Wedding at Cana. The Gospel that shows Mary and Jesus enjoying and taking great interest in wine. So much so that Jesus takes six 20-30 gallon jugs and makes new wine at the end of a wedding. We hear that the wine that He makes is the best that the head waiter at the wedding has tasted. We hear from John that Jesus makes all of this with wine to spare, more than was needed or perhaps was even desired (but who doesn’t desire extra wine?). 

But this Gospel story is, again, not so much about the wine. It’s about Jesus’ first miracle. It’s about Jesus listening to his mother’s request. It’s about Jesus not just being capable of meeting someone’s need, but doing so more than one could have even imagined. 

The Second Monday in Ordinary Time- the day after we hear the Gospel of the Wedding at Cana- we heard a Gospel from Mark’s second chapter where Jesus is once again not really talking about wine. He is rather saying at the beginning of His earthly mission that He will one day be taken away from it and that His kingdom is not of this world. He says: 

“But the days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day.

No one sews a piece of unshrunken cloth on an old cloak.

If he does, its fullness pulls away,

the new from the old, and the tear gets worse.

Likewise, no one pours new wine into old wineskins.

Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins,

and both the wine and the skins are ruined.

Rather, new wine is poured into fresh wineskins.”- Mark 2: 20-22

We can interpret this to mean that if we want something new, we need change. We need to get rid of the “old wineskins” to make room for the new wine that we desire. 

I’ve mentioned that I like wine. I will say that I also actually like change. There are many who do not, but I enjoy switching things up in my middle school classroom in the lessons that I teach. I enjoy doing different workouts throughout the week so that I don’t get bored of the same routines. I like trying new foods and places. I like change. Most of the time. 

There are, of course, habits that I’d rather hold onto but complain that I am stuck in. There are sins that I confess and feel sorry about but still hold onto. Albert Einstein has famously said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” Some of us might rather sacrifice our sanity than sacrifice to change.

For example, if I want to change my status as a single person, I need to download some dating apps and attempt to go on a date. If I want to obtain a new job, I need to update my resume and start the job search. If I want to change my state of mind, I need to find a counselor or therapist or make time for self-care. All easier said than done, I know. But if we desire a change, we have to work for those changes. 

After spending two years in a pandemic, many of us have made changes. We’ve renovated the homes that we’ve been stuck in for longer periods of time than before. Perhaps we’ve ended relationships that no longer served us in a healthy way. Maybe we made a career change or changed the way that worked and were productive. We’ve had time to see that maybe our old ways were not the best ways.

I believe that Christ wants to give us those new things, that new abundant, finest wine that we desire, but we have to make some change or effort to get rid of the old wineskins first. We have to become better receptors, even more open receptors, if we want to receive new and better things. We have to empty ourselves out to make room for the new things, the new opportunities, the new wine. And that emptying out can be painful.

When I purchase new clothes, I always try to get rid of some old ones. This is just a small example of what purging to make room for something new can look like. As we approach Lent, Lent is always a time where we want and desire conversion- a change. And we may even truly work to obtain those changes. 

When I was younger, I would try to do more extreme and “bigger” sacrifices for Lent. For example: eating only one meal a day, not listening to music in the car, consuming no alcohol (no wine!). As I get older, I have learned that sometimes the smaller sacrifices make the most difference. While the larger sacrifices are memorable, the smaller sacrifices make the longer lasting impact for change: less screen time, deleting a social media app, and making time for prayer in the morning. These smaller changes are more habit forming. 

Even though we may want to throw out all of the old wine to make room for the new, it is also appropriate to slowly drain the wine as well. Our change does not have to be large and dramatic. Most conversions are gradual. But we do need to make that first step, whatever it is, to make our change to make room for the new. 

How are you going to make room for new, abundant wine this Lent? 

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