Matt. 9:9-17
The conversion of Matthew the publican will not, I believe, be fully enjoyed if we do not continue with it in our view to the end of verse 17, for I regard Matthew as being at that moment in the thoughts of the Lord—a new bottle with the new wine in it.
The Lord met him in the position he had occupied in the world as a publican; he was sitting at the receipt of custom. Jesus passed by, and Matthew was made willing. He hearkened diligently to Christ, and his soul at once found delight, for he arose and followed the Lord and then spread a great feast for Him (Luke 5:29).
This was joy and liberty, and Jesus sanctioned it. He sat at Matthew's table. This was done suddenly, it is true. But though sudden, it was not premature.
Though unbidden, it did not remain unsanctioned. The eunuch in his day went on his way rejoicing, and that rejoicing, like that of Matthew, was early and sudden, but it was not premature.
In Matthew there was light and the mind of Christ, as well as liberty and the joy of Christ. Matthew seated at the same table the publicans and sinners who had been following Jesus (Mark 2:15)—the very people for whom the Lord of glory came down from heaven, and the very people whom the Lord Himself will have at His own table in the day of the marriage supper—a company of sinners redeemed and washed in the blood of the Lamb. Matthew thus justly and beautifully understood the mind of Christ. He knew Him, though he had just then been introduced to Him. He was like the dying thief, for a short moment was time enough to carry the light and liberty of Christ into the dark and distant heart of both men.
Matthew was in Christ's presence in joy. He was a child of the bridechamber. He feasted the Lord. The King was sitting at his table, because, in spirit, Jesus had already brought Matthew to His banqueting house. This was the time of the kindness of his youth, or the love of his espousals, and in that joy he had risen up, left all, and followed Christ. The world might therefore be to him a "wilderness," a land "not sown" (Jer. 2:2), but with Jesus he feasted. He had listened to the word of power, the invitation of grace, and to his soul it had been a feast of fat things, wine and milk of the King's providing. It was as a bridegroom, as a lover of his soul, that Matthew had apprehended Christ and was now entertaining Him at his table; because of this newly found liberty and joy, Matthew is among the children of the bridechamber—a new bottle with the new wine in it.
Neither Moses nor John the Baptist could have made such a bottle as this. The word of Christ, heard in the light and energy of the Holy Ghost, could alone have provided it. On Him only, all the vessels of the Lord's house hang—the "flagons" and the "cups." The Pharisees and the disciples of John do not even understand this. The one object to the feast, with sinners—the other, that the feast is not a fast. The legalist and the religionist, neither of them can stand the publican's (that is, the sinner's) feast. The elder brother complains of the fatted calf. The music and the dancing, as these joyful sounds reach him in his outside place, vex him, as the sight of the table and the company in the house of our Levi irritates the Pharisees as they look on and will not sit.
The Lord vindicates both the feast and the guests. He lets it be known, there and at that moment, that He has come to gather such a company. And He thereby vindicates the host as having done the part of a child of the bridechamber, and as having done it well.
This is a simple, sweet story of grace. Jesus finds a publican, a sinner, at his position in this wretched self-seeking world; He takes him up at once, makes him a new bottle, and fills him with new wine, like the Samaritan at Jacob's well. She was taken up just as she was, and where she was, and, as another child of the bridechamber, she was sent on her way rejoicing.
The world will fret itself and be driven to darkness, as the prophet speaks. The hearts of the Pharisees are rent by vexation at such a sight. The publican's feast is lost upon them, and the new wine is spilled, as the Lord adds: "No man putteth a piece of new cloth unto an old garment; for that which is put in to fill it up taketh from the garment, and the rent is made worse. Neither do men put new wine into old bottles: else the bottles break, and the wine runneth out, and the bottles perish."
Days of absence, and therefore days of sorrow of heart, were to come after these feast days of His presence, but they had not come then. That day in Matthew's house was "one of the days of the Son of man." But the heart that can feast on a present Jesus will mourn an absent Lord. "The days will come, when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then shall they fast in those days." The children of the bridechamber will fast during the Bridegroom's absence, because He is dear to them. It is not the Pharisee's fast of religious service and merit, but the fast of a heart that has been weaned away from other objects, and for the present has lost the presence it values.
It is not from experience, but from desire only, one's heart traces the path of a child of the bridechamber. Of such a soul some of us will say, "I see from far the beauteous light." There are occasions and seasons when the state of the affections to Christ are sorrowfully discovered; we need a more earnest eye for Him. Our look at Him needs to be a nearer one, more fixed and personal. Our sight of Him is too commonly conducted as by the light of others. We are prone to have Him in company, in the reflections and by the help of the scenes and circumstances in which we place ourselves. I covet a more earnest look at Him, a look that can reach Him very closely and personally, without aid, or countenance, or company. The single eye knows Him only; the earnest eye enjoys Him deeply.
Mary at the sepulcher had this single eye when she could overlook the shining ones in search for her Lord. The sinner of the city had it when she could let the scorn
of the Pharisees pass over her without unsettling her. The Samaritan woman had it when she could forget her water pot, and the eunuch, when he went on heedless of the loss of Philip. Matthew had it. And it is this which not only realizes Christ, but puts Him in His due place both of attraction and supreme authority.