Luke 5:27–39
27 After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax collector by the name of Levi sitting at his tax booth. “Follow me,” Jesus said to him, 28 and Levi got up, left everything and followed him.
29 Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them. 30 But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”
31 Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 32 I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”
33 They said to him, “John’s disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking.”
34 Jesus answered, “Can you make the friends of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? 35 But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast.”
36 He told them this parable: “No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. 37 And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. 38 No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins.39 And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for they say, ‘The old is better.’”
Just Try Stuff
“Just try stuff.”
This is the motto that got our little family of three through the first year of welcoming our baby into our household.
More than ever before, my partner Mark and I were being pushed to try something new, almost every day. So, like any major life transition, we spent lots of time seeking information (aka too much googling), calling parents and asking for advice, and feeling frozen under the weight of a thousand tiny decisions.
These decisions felt so heavy because we had never done this before—and we were slowly realizing that agonizing over every tiny “if” and worrying about every possible consequence was eating us alive.
Then one day, one of us (I can’t remember who) said “Why don’t we just try what feels right? And if that doesn’t work, we can try another way?” and “Just try stuff!” was born. Now, whenever we’re frozen with indecision and too many Internet Opinions™ we give ourselves permission to just try the first thing. Not sure if we have the right diaper size? Just try stuff! Should we drop from three naps to two? Just try stuff! Should we try leaving the kiddo with a friend to go on a date? Just try stuff!
It was like a weight lifted off our shoulders. Suddenly, every attempt at solving a problem didn’t have to be perfect. We could just try.
Now, even in my work as a pastor, I am continuing to find the freedom of “just try stuff.” What’s the worst that can happen? It doesn’t work? Nobody shows up? The plan fails? But what’s the best that can happen? Maybe we find a solution—something joy-filled and beautiful—that we would have never discovered otherwise. Maybe Jesus will make himself known in a new way.
While I doubt the religious leaders in our text were overly concerned with questions of the transition from three naps to two, or how to get a three-month-old from Victoria to Whistler and back (So. Much. Stuff… stuffed into our trusty Mazda 3), they were certainly deeply concerned with how to honour God with their whole lives, and who this Jesus person was.
It’s fairly common in commentaries on Bible stories like this to be hard on these religious leaders; it should have been more obvious to them that Jesus was right and they were wrong, right? But we need to remember that these were leaders who had dedicated their lives to studying scripture and listening to their elders; they took following God so seriously. They had been walking this path since they were small children and their faith mattered deeply to them. It was their life’s work, and suddenly a new leader has come along practicing their faith and teaching things that just didn’t seem to fit.
Imagine, for a moment, what this might look like in your context. What’s something you’ve spent your life working on? Maybe it’s your career, maybe it’s artistry, fishing, working with your hands, writing, or taking care of tiny humans. Maybe you’ve spent your life advocating for people experiencing poverty, or perhaps you’ve dedicated hundreds of hours volunteering on boards. Maybe you’re a fellow pastor or Christian leader and you’ve spent your whole life studying scripture and leading communities.
Whatever it is, imagine what it would feel like to have someone come along and do your thing—this thing that you’ve dedicated hundreds of hours to, that you know inside and out, that you’ve taught to others along the way—in a way that feels completely backwards to you? And people are following this person around and saying, “Woah this is way better than what we were doing before!”?
I’ll be honest. If this happened to me, I’d probably feel angry, maybe jealous, maybe even unsure of myself. I might even be tempted to rally people around me, explaining passionately why I’m right and they’ve got it all wrong. Oh, I can relate to the religious leaders and their frustration.
But I’ve learned something in the journey of this past year. I’ve learned that it’s very hard to humble myself when I think I know what I’m doing. Have I been given gifts and talents? Absolutely. Have I spent my life learning how to be the best pastor and the best follower of Jesus I can be? Yes. But do I have it all figured out? Am I sure I’ve learned everything there is to learn about Jesus and my faith? Absolutely not.
I have always loved the Parable of the New Wine. If trying to get everything right and perfect on our journey of parenthood was old wine, “Just try stuff” is the new, and this journey has been filled with so many delightful discoveries.
I wonder, as Alliance churches and followers of Jesus, what our old wine might be? Where do we need to let go of ideas, memories, teachings, or ways of doing things in favour of allowing the Spirit of God to lead us to new places?
May we learn from Jesus’ willingness to humble himself: God as a human being, sat and ate with the most despised people in Jewish society. And when he was questioned on it? He offered us an illustration that invites us to consider: are you willing to try something new?
Question to Reflect:
Can you relate to the religious teachers in this story? When have you struggled to learn or accept a new way of doing things or a new idea?
Is there something you’re struggling with right now that could be set free with the idea of “just try stuff”? Where might old pathways be holding you back from new solutions?
Jesus spent his days constantly surprising his peers, religious leaders, and community with how far he was willing to go to offer love and forgiveness. How could you invite this kind of love into your own life? For yourself? For your loved ones? For those you struggle to love?
Author Bio
Bekah Hagan Ahenda gratefully makes her home on the lands of the Lekwungen speaking peoples, known today as Victoria, BC, with her partner Mark and her kiddo Robin. She is the associate pastor at
Victoria Alliance Church and is passionate about building beautifully diverse community, how faith intersects with justice in everyday ways, and her e-bike.
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Luke and Acts taken from the
Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®
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