​Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny? Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good? So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen.
   
We have just completed our journey from Advent through to Epiphany tide. In it, we contemplated Christ’s coming to us and manifesting Himself as the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. (John i. 14) Now we turn to the period spanning between Septuagesima Sunday and Ascension Day. Septuagesima Sunday is the beginning of our short Gesima season; Gesima means days. Septu means seventy. So today is the 70th day before Easter. On these three Sundays, we prepare for Lent, Holy Week, and Easter Sunday. Our pre-Lenten season is probably a Western Latin approximation of the Eastern Church’s much longer Lent. In the West, it bridges Epiphany Tide with Lent. It is a season for self-discipline and for embracing the four Cardinal Virtues of temperance, prudence, justice, and fortitude.  

The Four Cardinal Virtues come to us from the Latin word cardo, which means hinge. These virtues are the hinge virtues, without which we cannot hope to lay a foundation for the Three Theological Virtues of faith, hope, and charity. Just as the Gesima Sundays hinge one season with another, the Cardinal Virtues comprise the hinge that opens the door to deeper union with God. The Cardinal Virtues are derived from Plato’s Dialogues, were later refined by Aristotle, and were then part and parcel of the Graeco-Roman world’s pursuit of the Good or God. The early Church Fathers designated them as Cardinal Virtues and acknowledged their indebtedness to Greek Philosophy for providing forms that enable the mind to journey to God. For the Church Fathers, the Cardinal Virtues provided a stimulus for fallen man’s mind to discern God rationally at work in the world. These virtues generate a limited but valuable relationship to the Divine by way of reason. The Cardinal Virtues enable fallen man to find God and to will His goodness, if it be ever so partially. The goodness that they establish teaches the soul both its strengths and its weaknesses. The Cardinal Virtues, in a Christian context, lay a kind of foundation for knowledge of the good, the extent to which we can will it, and the vast gulf that remains between us and God. 

Today, in his First Epistle to the Corinthians, Chapter IX, St. Paul introduces us to the first Cardinal Virtue that we must study. He tells us that our pursuit of the Good or God is like the spiritual and bodily preparation made by ancient Greek runners who competed in the Isthmian Games. Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? (1 Cor. 9. 24) Using an earthly paradigm, St. Paul inspires us to run so that we might win a prize. His illustration relates to a competition in which one man is determined to win the laurel wreath, the crown of triumph and victory. The desired end is the prize of a crown and the means is running.  St. Paul knows that all men run to obtain some reward. And no man can run without hope. So, with hope we must run to obtain whatever crown we seek. So run, that ye may obtain (Ibid, 24), St. Paul insists. Yet, our running must be ordered and tamed. Every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. (Ibid, 25) As it turns out, temperance or moderation must condition our running in hope towards our end. Our end is not the corruptible crown of the laurel wreath that commands the admiration, wonder, praise, and veneration of earthly athletic enthusiasts. That end is corruptible and passing. Our end is incorruptible and lasting. And this was the end for Plato and Aristotle as well. The problem for them was that all the efforts of reason’s appropriation of temperance, prudence, justice, and fortitude couldn’t generate lasting union with God. For Christians, moderation and temperance are fueled by more hope. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible. (Ibid, 26) The Apostle urges us to make use of Greek Moral Theology for the pursuit of an incorruptible crown.

The temperance and moderation that we embrace must be applied to our souls as well as our bodies. The runners at the Isthmian Games kept to a strict diet and discipline. They refrained from food, drink, and sex to stay focused. How much more, then, should we Christians keep to a strict diet and discipline as we condition our bodies to serve our souls with hope of obtaining the incorruptible crown?Thus, the Apostle warns us against that incautious and immoderate indulgence of the world that is always at enmity with God and likely to distract us from running the race. 
 
I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: but I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a cast-away. (Ibid, 26, 27) 
 
Runners’ arms beat the air as they push their legs onward to obtain a corruptible crown. Christians, with certainty through hope, run all together, tempering their bodies through self-discipline, hoping to gain one reward. Paul uses the Greek runners to illustrate the focus, dedication, and discipline or temperancewhich is key to obtaining any crown.

Moderation and temperance condition our body to serve our soul’s end. For the Greeks there was one crown for one runner. But for St. Paul an incorruptible crown is promised to all who run the Christian race. The ancient Greeks all cultivated the same virtue in pursuit of their end. And so too must we. But we have an added interest in helping one another to moderate and temper our earthly passions and appetites so that we all can appreciate more fully the crown that awaits us. Our crown is the gift of God the Giver. We do not deserve, earn, or merit it. 

We have been invited to run or to labour in the Vineyard of the Lord, as today’s Gospel would have it. For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard.(St. Matthew xx. 1) The offer to work in the Vineyard of the Lord is God’s gift. The work is offered at different times of the day or always along the lines of any man’s life in the morning, noontide, or evening. Those who come first to work are promised a penny. They have been awakened by the Lord in the morning of their lives, and so come early to run the race or work in the vineyard of the Lord. Others are roused or stirred later in the day of their lives. They have been idle, negligent, slothful, careless, or ignorant. Nevertheless, they are given a chance to run the race or work in the vineyard of the Lord. They are told that they will receive what is right in payment for their labour. Others are found at the sixth and ninth hours of their lives. Some are even found in the twilight of their lives, at the eleventh hour or the end of the day. They too are welcomed to run the race or work in the vineyard of the Lord. They too will receive what is right as a reward. These men are even rebuked for their sloth. Why stand ye here all the day idle? (Ibid, 6) Yet the householder’s desire for the work is greater than his bewilderment at their delay in accepting the offer to run to the work that leads to an incorruptible crown. 

In today’s Gospel Parable, at the end of the day, all are paid. The last to come are paid first, and the first to come are paid last. The moderation and temperance that have conditioned the running and working of the Johnny-come-lately men are of equal value and worth to the first in the heart of the householder. Every man receives a penny. Every man receives the same reward. All run. Some come early, and some come late. All are called to work for one end. 
But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny. And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day. (Ibid, 10-12)
 
Christians are called to run and work without envying and begruding that all may run together to receive the gift of one and the same prize, an incorruptible crown. The householder responds: 
Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny? Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good?  So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen. (Ibid, 13-16)
 
Moderation and temperance prepare us for the virtue of justice. Strictly speaking, as fallen and sinful men, we deserve nothing but just punishment for our sins. That is earthly justice. God’s justice, however, is always tempered by His mercy. He takes our Cardinal Virtues and rewards them with the hope of gaining His goodness. He offers us an incorruptible crown as the reward of being invited into the hope of running and a work that leads back to Himself. God tells us that if we accept the gift of His invitation, to run and to work, we shall be rewarded with a crown, whose worth and value far exceed anything that is right or just for us. And, as St. Gregory says:
He who desires to escape the fires of jealousy, let him seek that love, which no number of shares in it ever narrows. 

Running the race with temperance is the unmerited gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast. (Eph. Ii. 9) The last shall be first and the first last. (Matthew xx. 16) For the Christian, work or running the race is never to be quantitatively measured by the time spent but by the freed gift of God’s Grace. If we cherish and treasure the honor and privilege of working in God’s vineyard and running the spiritual race, we might even forget whether we started at the first hour, the third, the sixth, the ninth, or the eleventh. Whatever hour we came, our attention is on the Giver and His Gift. 

Amen.
©wjsmartin
 

​

Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate.
Be not wise in your own conceits. (Romans xii. 16)

Thus far in the season of Epiphany, we have been invited to believe and come to know the revelation of God’s power, wisdom, and love in the life of Jesus Christ. We have followed the Star that drew the Wise Men to the origin and meaning of all truth in the Infant Babe of Bethlehem. We have seen his star in the east, and art come to worship him…(St. Matthew ii. 2) We have discovered, also, God’s life in the young Jesus, listening and responding to the Doctors of Theology in the temple. Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business? (St. Luke ii. 49) We have gleaned that God’s Word was made flesh to redeem us all in the potent new wine of His blood. But thou hast kept the best wine until now. (St. John ii. 10) Love, wisdom, and power reveal themselves to us in Epiphany as marks of Jesus’ intention to do even greater things than these. (St. John xiv. 12) The greater things than these will involve not only what God does in Jesus Christ then and there, but what Jesus will do in us here and now. Epiphany is not only about vision but is also, and more importantly, about the redemptive power of God’s Grace in your life and in mine.
         
Today, having traveled from the manger to the temple, we move from the Wedding in Cana of Galilee to another Epiphany in Jesus’ encounter with a Roman Centurion. A Centurion was a professional officer in the Roman Legion who commanded roughly one hundred men. He, like the soldiers under him, would have been a celibate – Roman soldiers were not permitted to marry until active duty was completed. For the Roman Centurion in this morning’s Gospel, his family was the Roman Legion –soldiers and servants committed to his paternal care. And when Jesus was entered into Capernaum, there came unto him a centurion, beseeching him, And saying, Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, grievously tormented. (St. Matthew viii. 5) Capernaum was the home of Peter, Andrew, James, John, and Matthew, the tax collector. It also housed a Roman garrison. Oddly enough, the pagan Centurion approached Jesus and addressed him as Lord. Jesus responds and says, I will come and heal him. (St. Matthew viii. 7) But the Centurion protests, Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: but speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed. (St. Matthew viii. 8) The Centurion trusts that Jesus’ word will be enough to save his suffering servant. 

Prior to his appeal, the Centurion would, no doubt, have known of Jesus’ reputation. He must have had a deep sense of the holiness attached to Jesus’ person. Thus, he ranked himself unworthy for the Lord to come down to his house and heal his servant. The Centurion believed that because Jesus was all-holy, he himself was unworthy of Jesus’ visitation. Thus, in humility, he begs Jesus to speak or send His Word only, that his servant might be healed. Only humility can win from Christ the transformative power of God’s Grace. Today, more than experiencing only the manifestation and revelation of God’s power, wisdom, and love in Jesus, the Centurion reveals to us something of the spiritual character that will secure Jesus’ healing power. Clear-headed about his own moral and spiritual weakness, emptied of any pretense to self-importance, and uncertain of his spiritual fate, the Centurion reveals to us what it looks like to become the space that will be filled with the Epiphany of Christ in His word. For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it. (St. Matthew viii. 9) This Centurion knows the power of his own words. In the earthly domain of Caesar, his words bear authority, and they are obeyed. He speaks and it is done. Yet, notice how he says: I am a man under authority. He too must hear the commands of words of one higher than he and submit himself to their power. But like his own sick servant, he too is a servant, whose words are powerless to command a cure. 

But he has heard of a Man whose words have power to transform and to heal. He has faith in the Man, Jesus Christ, and believes that His all-holiness manifests, reveals, and shows forth the power, the wisdom, and the love of God. He believes that Christ possesses such Divine power that His words alone are sufficient to help. So, with faith, he reaches out humbly to Jesus for the healing of his servant. The overwhelming otherness that the Centurion finds in Christ will bring a cure. He believes and seeks; he seeks and finds; he finds and knows. In powerlessness, he moves from self-knowledge to faith, through faith to knowledge, and with knowledge to healing love. His self-confessed weakness reaches out to touch the Word of redemption that Christ brings. The Epiphany manifestation that we find today, then, is twofold. First, we learn of the powerless state of sinful man. Second, if we claim it ourselves, in all humility, we discover God’s response to it in Jesus Christ.   
        
But as Archbishop Trench reminds us, Jesus perceives another facet in the Centurion’s soul. Speak (or send) the Word only, and my servant shall be healed. (St. Matthew viii. 8) Indeed, every little trait of his character…points him out as one in whom the seed of God’s word would find the ready and prepared soil of a good and honest heart. (Trench: Miracles, Chapter XI) According to St. Luke’s version of today’s miracle, the Centurion was a righteous Gentile, who loved the nation of Israel, and had built the Jews a place of worship for the worship of the true God. In addition, he had earnest care and anxiety, not to mention love, for his servant. (Idem) Epiphany Tide reveals to us that character of soul that is needed for Christ’s healing visitation. The Centurion’s soul is ripe for the planting of Jesus Christ’s Word in the soul. And this is all the Centurion asks: speak and send the Word only and my servant shall be healed. (Idem) The Centurion reveals his humble assurance and confidence in Jesus the Word. Jesus reveals and shows forth His amazement. He marvelled, and said to them that followed, Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven.  But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  (St. Matthew viii. 10, 11) What is revealed to Jesus is Gentile faith in the power of Jesus’ Word. What Jesus finds is the character, state, and condition of soul in which the healing Word of God, Jesus Christ, can be planted to bear fruit! 
          
This is the message of our Epiphany-tide. But it comes also with a real warning. Jesus says that the Centurion’s gentile faith in God’s Grace will lead to His Kingdom. He tells us too that the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (St. Matthew viii. 12) What He means is that there were too many Jews then and too many Christians now who never experience their own Epiphany – one that manifests to them their need and another that reveals the cure. Their faith is not rewarded because they have not had an epiphany of their own sinful powerlessness. And their faith finds no healing because they have not had an epiphany that reveals their own state of being under authority. Christ tells us that those who consider themselves to be the children of the kingdom, are not. They think that they are good enough, and thus Epiphany’s light has not shed its light on their sorry state. Furthermore, these religious people do not love others enough to seek out a cure because in others they see only men sorrier than themselves. They who have nothing of the Centurion’s humility, faith, and love.

Jesus says, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. (St. Matthew vii. 7) Epiphany teaches us that salvation is for the humble. Salvation is for the needy. Salvation is for those who know that they are weak and who know that God in Jesus Christ alone can save all men. Our Centurion saw God’s Epiphany in Jesus Christ, and with humility, believed that Christ need speak the word only and his servant would be healed. (Idem) From the ground of humble self-emptying, he reached out with every fiber of his being to procure healing from Christ the Word. Touched by that Word in the poverty of his soul, his faith found healing, not only in the life of his servant but within himself. His servant was healed. But he too was healed because his faith was enlarged as he made room for Jesus in his soul. He was healed because his hope was strengthened, and his love was not disappointed. In the Centurion we find a miracle even more significant than that of his servant. 

Be not wise in your own conceits, but… condescend to men of low estate. (Romans xii. 16), St. Paul says this morning. He means that we should, with the Centurion, bow down, and realistically discover in the suffering of others, those less fortunate than ourselves, servants -men of low estate and our absolute need for Christ’s Word to heal them and us! He means that from this low and humble seat we ought to seek out God’s mercy with all faith, hope, and love. Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof but speak the Word only and my servant shall be healed. (Idem)

Today we must ask ourselves, Do we find and discover ourselves truly in the Epiphany illumination that reveals our own deepest need for Christ the Word? Are we pouring out our complaint to Christ?  What we need is the humble faith of today’s Centurion. What we need is that humility that rests not in paranormal miracles but, rather, on faith in Christ the Word. Then humble faith with love for all others will seek a cure for the sin sick soul in Christ. Then, with the Centurion, we shall experience the Epiphany of God’s Word in Christ, who says, Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee. And his servant, [and his own soul], were healed in the selfsame hour. (St. Matthew viii. 13) 
Amen.
©wjsmartin
 
 
 

​
 
You can only apprehend the Infinite by a faculty that is superior
to reason, by entering into a state in which the Divine Essence
is communicated unto you."
(Enneads: Plotinus)
         
Illumination and enlightenment are the themes of Epiphany tide. Επιϕανια is the Greek word for Epiphany, and it means manifestation, revelation, showing, or shining forth. For Christians, Epiphany reveals God’s love, wisdom, and power in the life of Jesus Christ – the Divine Life alive in the humanity of Jesus and calling us Home to our Heavenly Father. It is like the sun that opens the eyes not only to sight but understanding. Its rays carry the eyes of our minds into understanding God in Man. This illumination or enlightenment gives us not only knowledge but also the power to change and convert. Through it, men sense and perceive the Divine Essence through which we all can be changed in an instant, in the twinkling of an eye. (1 Cor. Xv. 52)

Yet the light through which Christ reveals God’s life to us is not easily apprehended. If it could be, reason would understand it perhaps as swiftly as it assents to the proposition that two plus two makes four. But, as Plotinus reminds us, a faculty greater than reason is needed to apprehend God, discover His presence in Jesus the Man, and embrace His will. That faculty is called faith. Faith alone believes what it cannot prove and does not yet know. Take the example of the first moments of attraction to another. When a man is first drawn to a woman who arrests his attention, he is drawn to her both externally and visibly. He is intrigued with wonder. We might say that he has faith in something mysterious waiting to be discovered and known in his further pursuit of the woman. His faith believes that there is something worth finding out, knowing, and loving. His faith seeks to know in order to love.

God works in the same way. He intrigues us by calling us forward to search Him out with faith. Our faith believes there is someone to know. What is waiting to be discovered is the inward and spiritual nature of God. We can find Him only if our faith believes that someone beautiful and meaningful intends to be known. If all that there is to know about Him were revealed externally, visibly, and instantaneously to the human mind, there would be no place for a faith that follows and a love that grows.   

In Epiphany tide, our faith believes that God is at work in Jesus Christ. We seek to know Him more intimately. Yet on the first three Sundays in Epiphany we feel a degree of confusion. In our Epiphany readings, we are confused and hopefully intrigued. We have not reached understanding, but our faith must continue in hot pursuit of God in Jesus. The Wise Men ask Where is He that is born king of the Jews? We have seen His star in the east and have come to worship Him, (St. Matthew 2. 2) We believe but where is He, that our faith may know Him? They believe that an extraordinary Star calls them forth to find and know an unusual king.  They carry sacred gifts with mystic meaning because they believe that this king will bring them out of darkness into His own marvelous light.       
 
Confusion and intrigue are the hallmarks of a faith that seeks understanding and knowledge. Last Sunday we found that Joseph and Mary were alarmed and frightened at the prospect of having left their son Jesus behind in the Temple. They sought Him not only out of confusion but also out of fear. Their faith was weak, but still they followed it. They hurried back to Jerusalem because they believedand hoped that their son was safe. They sought Him out with trembling faith and then were sore amazed with where they found Him and with what He was doing. Their faith was rewarded fwith relief. Still, they were upset. Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us, behold thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing. (St. Luke 2. 48) His answer: Why is it that ye sought Me? Wist ye not that I must be about My Father’s business? (Ibid, 49) confused them even more. Mary and Joseph understood not the saying which He spake unto them. (Ibid, 50) But Mary’s weak faith still sought to know and to love her son more fully.She kept all these sayings in her heart. (Ibid, 51). 

Jesus is the Wisdom of God that is not self-evidently known or understood immediately. Jesus is also the Power of God who comes to transform the world. In today’s Gospel, some years later, Mary, having kept Jesus’ sayings in her heart, believes that, finally, she knows Her Son. Today she is with Him at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. The wedding party has run out of wine. She knows and remembers the Divine love that her Infant King revealed to the Three Wise Men. She knows and remembers the Divine wisdom in her twelve-year-old son when he rebuked her for her unbelief and ignorance. Now she believes that she knows Him. She will enlist His Divine power to furnish a Sacramental event with added bliss. Being a good Jewish mother, she believes that she must verbalize what Her Son surely knows! Son, they have no wine. (St. John, ii. 3) The Mother knows that Her Son can overcome every earthly need. Here, she believes He should do so. Mary has deep faith in what her son can do. Her faith has pondered much in her heart. Surely, He can use His Divine Power to forestall looming embarrassment for the bridegroom and his family, whose poverty, no doubt, accounts for the depletion of the wine. This, she thinks, is not too much to ask from the Son of the Most High God.

But Jesus rebukes Mary. Woman what have I to do with thee? Woman, what does this have to do with Me and thee? (Ibid, 3) The rebuke is needed because her faith is, as George MacDonald writes, unripe and unfeatured. This faith, working with her ignorance and her fancy, led her to expect the great things of the world from him. (George MacDonald, The Miracles of our Lord.)  We tend to think that Jesus was being condescending towards his mother when he calls her woman. But Jesus is drawing Mary’s faith into deeper knowledge of Himself. Mine hour has not yet come. (Ibid, 4) Jesus is calling Mary to consider a faculty far greater than reason. (Idem) He wants her to believe and know that He has not come into the world to turn water into wine in order to save men from earthly shame. Rather, He will turn water into wine as a sign that He alone can make what is common into something divine, something earthly into something heavenly, and something human into something Godly. He will turn water into wine as He turns sin into righteousness and death into new life. 

Mary believes and knows that her Son’s rebuke is just and good. She commands the servants, Whatsoever He says, do it, (Ibid, 5) Mary believes and knows that her Son possesses all truth. She has been humbled. Jesus responds. Fill the waterpots with water, (Ibid, 7) and the servants obey. Mary’s premature and ill-placed faith, knowledge, and love will be redeemed and rewarded. Jesus continues:

Draw out now, and bear unto the governor of the feast. And they bare it. When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and knew not whence it was: (but the servants which drew the water knew;) the governor of the feast called the bridegroom, and saith unto him, Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now. (Ibid, 8-10) 
 
Jesus has not come down from Heaven to perform earthly miracles on earthly men for earthly joy and happiness. Here, He does not merely produce new earthly wine at an earthly wedding for earthly men who had already drunk too much in an earthly manner. Were this all that He had done, drunk men wouldn’t have known the difference. Mary wasn’t drunk. Neither was the governor of the feast.  The governor tasted the difference. Mary believed and came to know her son more truly. 

Of course, today’s miracle is a sign and symbol of what Christ always intends to do with us. If we are in search of miraculous earthly solutions to earthly deficiencies, we are far too drunk on earthly things to see how Christ the Light longs to bring new spiritual wine into our fallen lives in this holy season of Epiphany. Christ Jesus is the power of God and the wisdom of God. (1 Cor. i. 24) He comes to put new wine into new bottles. (St. Mark ii. 22) The Blessed Virgin Mary had to rebuked for her earthly love. With her, we must believe and know that they have no wine then, and we have no wine now. We must believe and know that we need new wine. We must believe and know that Christ alone can make this new wine from the blood that He sheds for you and me on the Tree of Calvary.

Jesus insists Mine hour is not yet come (Ibid) for He is on the way to His Cross. For now, He might provide earthly wine or not. Whatsoever He says, we must do it. We must believe in order to know. His Hour does not yet come until we go up to the Cross of His Love and beyond. Then, a new kind of wine will pour forth from His hands, His feet, and His side in the Blood that He has received from His mother and offers back to His Father. The Sacred Gift of Mystic Meaning will be found in the Blood that alone is the new wine that gives new life to a fallen world that can taste the difference. 
We believe that Jesus saves the best wine until last. We believe that His Blood is a Sacred Gift with Mystic Meaning, the new wine poured out for us in the death we could not die. Christ pours out His Blood as He dies to the world, the flesh, and the devil for us. His Blood is the new wine that brings us into His death. His Blood is the new wine that brings us into the New Life of His Resurrection. We believe and know that His Blood is the new wine of His love, that gives us all joy. As the poet reminds us, 

Love is that liquor sweet and most divine,/
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.
                         (Agony: George Herbert)
 
Amen. 
©wjsmartin