[The following was written in ~2004 by Steve Crawford for my and Steve's joint writing project which we called the "Fundamantalism Help File." The FHF never amounted to anything, but we did do some interesting research and write some interesting articles. Steve wrote the following not to encourage drinking. He himself abstained from all use of alcohol because he thought that it a wise principle. However, he vigorously objected to those who try to make the Word of God say something it does not say. And so he wrote the following. BTW, Steve passed away in 2008. He was one of my closest friends, and I still miss him dearly. We will talk again in the New Heaven and Earth.]
Introduction
One of the methods that teetotalers use in arguing for the absolute abstention
from alcohol is an appeal to history. This appears to be their only recourse
when confronted with Scripture texts which unmistakably place wine in a positive
light, such as Ecclesiastes 9:7, “Go then, eat your bread in happiness and drink
your wine with a cheerful heart, for God has already accepted your works.”
The wine in verses such as the above, teetotalers tell us, is not the same wine that we know today. Rather, the term “wine” was used in antiquity to refer to a wide variety of drinks. Some of them were undeniably high in alcohol content, but other “wines” were greatly diluted so that their alcohol levels were low enough that it was virtually impossible for them to be intoxicating. Indeed, some “wine” was not wine at all but rather unfermented grape juice.
And so we see how the teetotal logic comes full circle: whenever the Scriptures speak of wine negatively, it “must” be a reference to the kind of wine having a high alcohol level. Likewise, whenever we find texts in the Bible that refer to wine positively, it “must” be the case that such wine is of the non-intoxicating variety. This is the essence of the teetotaler’s appeal to history.
Well, it turns out that the teetotaler is only telling half the story. There are sufficient indications from history that the wine of antiquity, while it did come in many forms and varieties, was not all that different in its alcohol content than what we have today. We present some of the evidence for this conclusion. We first examine lines of evidence from the Ancient Near East, and then take a look at the customs and practices of the Greeks and Romans.
The wine in verses such as the above, teetotalers tell us, is not the same wine that we know today. Rather, the term “wine” was used in antiquity to refer to a wide variety of drinks. Some of them were undeniably high in alcohol content, but other “wines” were greatly diluted so that their alcohol levels were low enough that it was virtually impossible for them to be intoxicating. Indeed, some “wine” was not wine at all but rather unfermented grape juice.
And so we see how the teetotal logic comes full circle: whenever the Scriptures speak of wine negatively, it “must” be a reference to the kind of wine having a high alcohol level. Likewise, whenever we find texts in the Bible that refer to wine positively, it “must” be the case that such wine is of the non-intoxicating variety. This is the essence of the teetotaler’s appeal to history.
Well, it turns out that the teetotaler is only telling half the story. There are sufficient indications from history that the wine of antiquity, while it did come in many forms and varieties, was not all that different in its alcohol content than what we have today. We present some of the evidence for this conclusion. We first examine lines of evidence from the Ancient Near East, and then take a look at the customs and practices of the Greeks and Romans.
Evidence from the Ancient Near East
It is highly doubtful that
any of the wine in the Ancient Near East didn’t have some significant level of
alcohol in it. This was due primarily to the way wine was made:
Those grapes which reached the baskets were taken off to the wine-press near
by. Here the excitement was even greater. The centre of the scene was the
group of men and women who jostled and splashed each other in the press-vat, as
they trod the fruit with their bare feet. The treaders gave voice to a
special vintage shout which is thought to have originated in some ritual cry,
but whatever religious significance it retained must have been drowned by the
drinking songs which rang out in endless succession. Whenever possible,
the press was hewn out of the solid limestone rock, otherwise pits were dug in
the earth and lined with stones and mortar. The juice ran from the
press-vat through a channel into another trough, which was dug deeper at a lower
level. In the hot September sun, fermentation began almost immediately and
continued for about six weeks. In smaller vineyards, the fermenting liquid
was allowed to stand for this period in the wine-vat, but where the press had to
be used for a considerable quantity of grapes, it was drawn off into big
earthenware jars.
[1]
The reason for allowing this
“new wine” to sit was quite simple. Since the ancients didn’t possess the
filtration technology we have today, they had to the let wine settle while
gravity naturally drew its suspended material to the bottom of the container:
The
new wine was not ready for drinking for at least forty days, by which time the
stalks and skins swimming in it settled down into a muddy deposit. This
sediment was known as the “lees” and an interesting passage in the book of
Jeremiah suggests that the wine was separated from the lees by being poured from
one jar to another: “Moab has been at ease from his youth, and he has settled on
his lees, and has not been emptied from vessel to vessel … therefore his taste
remains in him, and his bouquet is not changed” (48:11). The last comment
implies a warning that wine needs to be kept relatively undisturbed and that too
much pouring will set up reactions and turn it into vinegar. When the wine
was sufficiently strained, it was stored either in large earthenware jars, of
which the lids were sealed with pitch or wax, or in well-tied wineskins.
[2]
Thus, wine in the Old
Testament was allowed to ferment for a period of about six weeks. Due to the
obvious lack of temperature controls, there is every reason to suppose that
during this time all (or nearly all) of the wine’s sugar was metabolized by
yeast into carbon dioxide and ethyl alcohol. Consequently, fermented wine in
the Ancient Near East would’ve naturally contained the same alcohol levels seen
today: approximately 12 to 14 percent by volume.
This would seem to settle the whole argument, yet there remains the question of dilution. Evidence does indicate that, in certain Near Eastern cultures at least, wine was often diluted instead of being drunk straight from its storage container. Here is a general overview of Assyrian and Babylonian wines where Mesopotamian habits of wine dilution are summarized:
This would seem to settle the whole argument, yet there remains the question of dilution. Evidence does indicate that, in certain Near Eastern cultures at least, wine was often diluted instead of being drunk straight from its storage container. Here is a general overview of Assyrian and Babylonian wines where Mesopotamian habits of wine dilution are summarized:
There were numerous varieties of wine, but it was not until the first
millennium that these were given names, sometimes taken from their vineyard.
Most often, wine (karanu) is mentioned without any qualification. When
it is determined, it is chiefly “red” wine. There are few mentions of “white”
wine, but this may be because of our ignorance of the precise meaning of certain
adjectives. There is “first quality” wine and “ordinary” or “second choice”
wine. There is “light” wine, that is, “white” or “rose” or perhaps “young.”
The same adjective describes wine used for ritual offerings: in this instance it
is translated as “pure,” which signifies that it is suitable for liturgical use
or, quite simply, that it has not been diluted with water.
There is “new” wine and “old” wine; these latter would have been a wine allowed
to age to develop its qualities -- which was also done for some beers. There is
“sweet” wine and “sweetened” wine, naturally or by the addition of honey or
fruit extracts. There is “bitter” or “sharp” wine, probably made so by the
incorporation of the juice of certain plants. There is “strong” wine, probably
with a high alcohol content. And there is “good” wine, like that destined for
Mari by the king of Carchemish, or the one which, a thousand years later,
Sargon's soldiers would draw by bucketsful from the reserves of the palace of
Ulhu. Are we to understand by this a wine of superior quality reserved for the
royal tables or, less probably, a wine “sweetened” perhaps with honey?
The dispatches of wine from the north to the palace of
Mari were often accompanied by jars of honey; but what accompanies is not
necessarily complementary. In fact, the wine was “treated” by
incorporating various ingredients intended to alter its taste or density --
water, honey, or some sugary exudation, essences of aromatic types of wood.
As well as being diluted, it was also decanted, doubtless to eliminate sediment,
and blended.
[3]
It was mainly on the occasion of festivals and banquets
that strong drinks were taken. The guests drank straight from the jar, with the
aid of a hollow stalk. Many monuments evoke drinking with a straw, and some
representations associate it with erotic scenes; where these show the coupling
of a man and woman, some people believe they can recognize the annual rite of
the
heiros gamos. This “sacred marriage” between the king and a
priestess taking the place of fertility goddess is well-attested in literature;
it was thought to ensure general prosperity for a year. Partaking of strong
drink prepared them for lovemaking or boosted weakened energies. Others see
nothing “religious” in these representations; they are merely an image of
happiness in a civilization where even the most deviant sexual act was subject
to no taboo.
[4]
But even though the Mesopotamians did dilute their wine, it is also clear that
this did not occur in all cases. Rather, they had a wide spectrum of drinks.
Here is how one scholar summarizes the ancient evidence after having reviewed
the categories of “Drink, Beer, and Palm-wine,” “Wine,” and “Strong Drink”:
In point of fact, what with their drinks made from barley
and palm-tree wine, as well as real wine, the Mesopotamians possessed a range of
drink hardly less potent in its effects than those of today, though not their
equal in quality.
[5]
So we do have indications that other cultures did at times dilute their wines.
But this is relevant only if we can answer two questions: (i) Did the Hebrews
dilute their wines?, and if so, (ii) was the dilution to such a point that the
wines were no longer realistically capable of causing intoxication?
As for the first question, some scholars do not believe there is any evidence that the Hebrews diluted their wine:
As for the first question, some scholars do not believe there is any evidence that the Hebrews diluted their wine:
The drinking of wine was universal. Taking it with water
or luxuriously iced with snow from the mountains were later customs and even
then the latter can hardly have been a part of everyday life. The ordinary
Israelite in our period [the time of the Old Testament] took his wine in its
natural state or (like the Assyrians) mingled with spices and drugs to increase
its “headiness.” It is not surprising that the Old Testament contains so many
warnings about drinking to excess. The men of Israel also drank pomegranate
wine and (possibly) wine made from dates. They do not appear, however, to have
been great beer-drinkers. In this respect, they differed from their neighbors,
the Philistines, whose beer-mugs with strainer spouts have been found by the
hundred.
[6]
But what about the “mixed
wine” mentioned in the Old Testament (e.g. Proverbs 9:1-6, Proverbs 23:30, Psalm
75:8)? Isn’t this a clear reference to wine mixed with water? Well, in
response, we have already seen how that the Mesopotamians would blend their
wines together. The same thing was happening in ancient Egypt:
Under the New Empire [the time after the Hyksos regime], as in Greek and Roman
times, it was a favorite custom to mix several sorts of wine together. The
following picture shows us how they filled a large vessel by siphons with three
sorts of wine; the festive decoration of the vessels indicates that this mixing
is taking place at the time of a feast.” [And there follows a hieroglyphic from
a Theban tomb.] [7]
Therefore, it is unwarranted
to automatically assume that the “mixed wine” of the Old Testament is wine
diluted with water. It could just as well be wine mixed with other types of
wine. That it is mentioned in the context of drunkenness (Proverbs 23:30), is
used to depict the potency of divine wrath (Psalm 75:8), and is the preferred
beverage at an elegant feast (Proverbs 9:1-6) would seem to indicate that the
best interpretation of the Bible’s “mixed wine” is that it is several wines
blended together. Even if it were water mixed with wine, it would still have to
be quite capable of inducing alcoholic effects or else these verses become
nonsensical.
With regards to the second question of how diluted the wines would’ve been, there is no evidence to suppose that the ancient peoples diluted their wines to the point where potential alcoholic effects disappeared. Rather, it was precisely the alcoholic content of their wines that appealed to the people of antiquity:
With regards to the second question of how diluted the wines would’ve been, there is no evidence to suppose that the ancient peoples diluted their wines to the point where potential alcoholic effects disappeared. Rather, it was precisely the alcoholic content of their wines that appealed to the people of antiquity:
A number of favorable factors made wine important to
ancient peoples. It was actually less likely to be contaminated than water,
particularly in cities where public sanitation was difficult and water-borne
diseases were common. The pleasant effects of wine were early noted, and seem
to be an important basis for the use of wine as a beverage. Furthermore, the
effects of wine were somewhat quicker and greater than those from beer, a
beverage of lower alcohol content. This must have been a very important factor
in the pre-Christian period, since life was not pleasant for either the rich or
the poor. Winter was difficult, even in the southern regions, and the
vicissitudes of life, with wars and slavery, made wine a welcome beverage,
enabling people to forget their problems and ease their aches. This is, of
course, basically an effect of alcohol.
[8]
More will be said on this
point later, but suffice it to say that Ancient Near Eastern wine definitely had
a significant alcohol content, enough for the Old Testament to repeatedly warn
against drunkenness. It is more of an assumption rather than an inference based
on the available data when teetotalers claim that ancient wine was so diluted as to
make it “more like water than wine.” [9] Evidence for this is lacking, and
attempts to circumvent a more natural conclusion are unsuccessful.
Evidence from
the Greeks and Romans
When we turn our attention to
the practices and customs of the Greeks and Romans, the picture is even
clearer. Indeed, it is puzzling to see teetotalers point to these habits as
support for their modern interpretation of the Scriptures. This is because the
Greeks and Romans epitomized social and casual drinking – something which
teetotalers are very much against. So why do teetotalers appeal to Greek and
Roman rituals? As we will see, it again goes back to the fact that these
ancients tended to dilute their wine.
Let us first turn our attention to the Greeks. The customs in question come from the “symposium,” an event that would follow on the heels of a dinner or feast. After coming together and eating their meal, the Greeks would immediately initiate the symposium where the following would occur:
Let us first turn our attention to the Greeks. The customs in question come from the “symposium,” an event that would follow on the heels of a dinner or feast. After coming together and eating their meal, the Greeks would immediately initiate the symposium where the following would occur:
The servants in attendance removed the larger tables which
had been used at dinner, and brought in instead other smaller tables, which were
also three-legged, but had round tops. On these they arranged the drinking
cups, bowls, and cooling vessels, plates with all kinds of dessert, and little
dainties that would induce thirst. Then wreaths were given to the guests to
adorn their heads, and sometimes to put round their necks, and sweet-scented
ointments were handed round. While the guests were occupied in adorning
themselves, the servants brought in the wine in large mixing bowls, generally
three at the beginning of the feast, and later more, as occasion required. The
customary drink at these feasts was a mixture of wine and water. Even at the
present day southern nations seldom drink strong wine unmixed with water, and in
ancient times unmixed wine was only drunk in very small quantities; at the
symposium, when it was customary to drink deep and long, they had only mixed
wine, sometimes taking equal parts of wine and water, and sometimes, which was
even commoner, three parts of water to two parts of wine. Generally, at the
beginning of every symposium, a president, or “Symposiarch,” was appointed by
lot or dice to take command for the rest of the evening, and it was his duty to
determine the strength of the mixture, for this might be of various kinds, as
weak as even two parts of wine to five of water, or one to three, or even one
part of wine to five of water, which last was certainly a somewhat tasteless
drink, and was contemptuously called “frog’s wine.” In early times it was usual
to put the water first into the mixing bowl and pour the wine upon it;
afterwards the reverse proceeding took place.
[10]
This
researcher goes on to say that:
Every guest had to submit to the ordinances of the
symposiarch; he exercised unlimited authority in the matter of drinking, unless,
indeed, the arrangement had been made from the first that everyone should drink
little or much, as he pleased, during that evening. Those who disobeyed
the commands of the president had to submit to some punishment, which consisted
either in drinking a certain quantity, or else was directed at some personal
infirmity; thus, for instance, a bald man was told to comb his hair, a stammerer
to sing, a lame man to hop, etc. This compulsion of submitting to the
ordinances of the president naturally led to very deep drinking, and even the
mixture of the water with the wine was insufficient defense against this
practice. It was very common to drink to one another, and propose the
health of friends or popular girls. It was customary for the drinking to
circulate to the right, and this practice was also kept up for all other
performances which were expected from every guest, such as the singing of songs,
guessing of riddles, etc. Though the main object of the symposium was,
undoubtedly, the drinking, yet we must not compare the Greek symposia with the
wild drinking bouts customary in Germany during the middle ages, which continued
till the 17th century. In consequence of the weakness of the mixture, it
must have taken some time for the intoxicating effects to make themselves
apparent. Moreover, there were various kinds of amusement which caused the
drinking to fall somewhat into the background, but these naturally varied a good
deal according to the degree of culture and character of the guests.
[11]
Thus, there is no reasonable doubt as to the nature of the wine that the Greeks
drank. Yes, it was watered-down but contrary to teetotal claims it was not diluted
so much as to make it “more like water than wine.” This kind of concoction was
derisively named “frog’s wine,” a not-so-subtle reference to its overly high
water content.
Rather, the Greeks mixed their wine with water so as to prolong the duration of their symposia, which would last for hours. During which time, they drank voluminously and often ended up drunk as a result. We find other reasons as well for why the Greeks mixed water into their wine:
Rather, the Greeks mixed their wine with water so as to prolong the duration of their symposia, which would last for hours. During which time, they drank voluminously and often ended up drunk as a result. We find other reasons as well for why the Greeks mixed water into their wine:
Greek wine, as we have said, was a rich, syrup-like fluid,
and was almost invariably diluted with water. Only the semi-civilized
inhabitants of Macedon in the north took their drink neat. Wines varied in
quality, the best hailing from the islands of Lesbos, Chios, and Rhodes. In
some brands, as in modern Greece, resin was added, giving a tart flavor. The
drinking was organized according to regular rules. A “master of the feast” was
chosen by lot, and he dictated the proportion in which water and wine should be
mixed -- most usually in the ratio of two to one. The mixing was done by the
slaves in a large earthenware bowl. From this the drink was ladled into the
cups -- broad shallow saucers raised on a delicate base, often of exquisite
design and picked out with beautiful painted pictures. The carouse would often
last well into the night. But the wine was, for a while at least, more apt to
stimulate than to befuddle the brain; and witty talk was the rule.
[12]
So,
apparently, water was also added to give the wine a smoother texture, for who
would ever want to drink a syrupy concentrate?
Thus, we discover in the ancient Greek customs clear evidence against a teetotal position. Yes, the wine was diluted but it was still quite capable of inducing alcoholic effects. It is unwarranted to assume that the mere mention of wine dilution made it virtually impossible to get drunk from such a mixture. The evidence is clearly against this sort of “frog’s wine.”
Besides, no teetotaler today would say that it’s acceptable to purchase and drink a modern wine if we first diluted it to the same proportions as the wines drunk in the ancient symposia. After all, as we have noted before, there is no reason to suppose that prior to its dilution Greek wine wasn’t just as alcoholic as modern wine. So, if we were to use the typical dilution of two parts water with one part wine, this would yield a mixture with 4% to 5% alcohol by volume – which is about as alcoholic as one of today's beers. Teetotalers would never stand for the consumption of even this kind of drink. Rather, we are told, people “must” remain completely abstinent. Therefore, it is a great contradiction in one’s methods of argumentation when we appeal to, but then ultimately reject, the ancient Greek practices of mixing water with wine.
Turning to the period of the Romans, we find that little has changed with regard to their own habits of wine drinking. They drank their wine “before, after, and between meals, as well as during; it was their coffee and tea and spirits.” [13] And it is no surprise that the Romans copied the same customs found in the Greek symposium:
Thus, we discover in the ancient Greek customs clear evidence against a teetotal position. Yes, the wine was diluted but it was still quite capable of inducing alcoholic effects. It is unwarranted to assume that the mere mention of wine dilution made it virtually impossible to get drunk from such a mixture. The evidence is clearly against this sort of “frog’s wine.”
Besides, no teetotaler today would say that it’s acceptable to purchase and drink a modern wine if we first diluted it to the same proportions as the wines drunk in the ancient symposia. After all, as we have noted before, there is no reason to suppose that prior to its dilution Greek wine wasn’t just as alcoholic as modern wine. So, if we were to use the typical dilution of two parts water with one part wine, this would yield a mixture with 4% to 5% alcohol by volume – which is about as alcoholic as one of today's beers. Teetotalers would never stand for the consumption of even this kind of drink. Rather, we are told, people “must” remain completely abstinent. Therefore, it is a great contradiction in one’s methods of argumentation when we appeal to, but then ultimately reject, the ancient Greek practices of mixing water with wine.
Turning to the period of the Romans, we find that little has changed with regard to their own habits of wine drinking. They drank their wine “before, after, and between meals, as well as during; it was their coffee and tea and spirits.” [13] And it is no surprise that the Romans copied the same customs found in the Greek symposium:
Wine
blent with resin and pine pitch was preserved in amphorae [large earthenware
bottles] whose necks were sealed with stoppers of cork or clay and provided with
a label (pittacium) stating the vintage. The amphorae were uncorked at
the feast, and the contents poured through a funnel strainer into the
mixing-bowl (cratera) from which the drinking-bowls were filled. Anyone
who drank these heavy wines neat was considered to be abnormal and vicious, a
mark for contumely. It was in the cratera that the wine was mixed with
water and either cooled with snow or in certain circumstances warmed. The
proportion of water was rarely less than a third and might be as high as
four-fifths. The commissatio that followed dinner was a sort of
ceremonial drinking match in which the cups were emptied at one draught. It was
the exclusive right of the master of ceremonies to prescribe the number of cups,
imposed equally on all, and the number of cyathi that should be poured
into each, which might vary from one to eleven. He also determined the style in
which the ceremony should be performed: whether a round should be drunk
beginning with the most distinguished person present (a summo), whether
each in turn should empty his cup and pass it to his neighbor with wishes for
good luck, or whether each should drink to the health of a selected guest in a
number of cups corresponding to the number of letters in his tria nomina
of Roman citizen. We may well wonder how the sturdiest stomachs could stand
such orgies of eating, how the steadiest heads could weather the abuses of the
commissationes! [14]
Thus,
little comment needs to be made regarding Roman practices for they were clearly
very similar to that of the Greeks. What was said before could also be said
here. Needless to say, there is little support that teetotalers can find among
Roman customs.
Here's a final quote from Xenophon concerning ancient perceptions of wine drinking. Note that Xenophon ascribes the following to Socrates. Whether Socrates actually said it or not is irrelevant. The quote still illuminates ancient attitudes toward their own drinking:
Here's a final quote from Xenophon concerning ancient perceptions of wine drinking. Note that Xenophon ascribes the following to Socrates. Whether Socrates actually said it or not is irrelevant. The quote still illuminates ancient attitudes toward their own drinking:
At that Socrates broke in: “My vote, too, is given for a
drink. Truly does wine moisten the soul, lulling pain to sleep, even as
mandragora drugs our senses, and waking merriment, as oil kindles fire. Men's
bodies, methinks, are in the same case as growing plants. When God drenches
these latter too abundantly, they cannot lift their heads nor catch the breeze.
But if they drink in only such moisture as they like, they grow up straight and
bring forth abundance of rich fruit. And it is the same with us. If we fill
the cup too abundantly, our limbs and our wits will both begin soon to reel, and
we shall scarce be able to breathe, much less to talk sense. But if we are
bedewed with a gentle shower -- to use a Georgian metaphor -- from small
glasses, we shall not be constrained to drunkenness by our wine and shall be
gently led to the goal of merriment.”
[15]
We find here an example of how ancient peoples commonly made the distinction
between wine making us drunk and wine making us merry. This is something that
teetotalers seem to hardly ever talk about, and for good reason: the same
distinction is quite often found throughout the Scriptures. The Old Testament
is replete with condemnations of drunkenness, but it also has numerous instances
of offering praises for wine's merriment:
When Boaz had eaten and drunk and his heart was merry, he went to lie down at
the end of the heap of grain. (Ruth 3:7)
So both of them sat down and ate and drank together, and the girl’s father said
to the man, “Please be willing to spend the night, and let your heart be merry.”
(Judges 19:6)
He causes the grass to grow for the cattle and vegetation for the labor of man,
so that he may bring forth food from the earth, and wine which makes man’s heart
glad, so that he may make his face glisten with oil, and food which sustains
man's heart. (Psalm 104:14-15)
Go, then, eat your bread in happiness and drink your wine with a cheerful heart,
for God has already accepted your works. (Ecclesiastes 9:7)
Men prepare a meal for enjoyment, and wine makes life merry, and money is the
answer to everything. (Ecclesiastes 10:19)
But even this evidence concerning the euphoric, yet non-intoxicating, effects of
wine doesn’t seem to affect the absolutism of teetotalers. For instance,
one could always say something to the effect that wine's
“merriment”
has nothing to do with its alcohol and that we can derive the same sensation
from, say, drinking a Pepsi.
Well, it is possible to argue this way but the problem is that we have now reached the point where our conclusion is clearly driving our interpretation, rather than vice-versa. Taking this kind of route would mean that, rather than accepting God’s revelation in its plain and normal sense, we are stretching the various texts so that they take on an unintended (and unbelievable) meaning.
Indeed, this is the basic difficulty with the whole teetotal approach to wine and its historical backdrop. In spite of biblical indications otherwise, teetotalers believe they have found an absolute command from God to keep away from all beverages with any alcoholic content. This produces such a strong perception of right and wrong in their minds that they are willing to overlook, or even revise, historical evidence that contradicts their desired conclusion. After all, as the thinking goes, it is virtually true by definition that there can be no such thing as evidence against an absolute standard of holiness and righteousness. Consequently, teetotalers freely cite anything from history that appears to support their ideas but summarily dismiss that which doesn’t. Such a tactic, as the thinking goes, cannot possibly be questionable when we already “know” our conclusion is absolutely correct.
In this fashion, we can see how teetotalism flows from certain presuppositions which are then forced onto the evidence. One simply does not become a teetotaler because of clear historical precedents. Rather, historical “precedents” are discovered because one is already convinced of teetotalism.
In summary, it is extremely artificial and arbitrary to assert that biblical praises of wine are only meant for a kind of beverage which doesn’t intoxicate. The historical and cultural backdrop to the Scriptures just doesn’t support this. It is a much more simple and natural interpretation that, whenever the Scriptures praise wine, it is a case of wine not being drunk to excess but being consumed enough to cause merriment. And, whenever the Scriptures condemn wine, it is a case of wine being ingested to the point where drunkenness is the inevitable result. The latter is not sanctioned by the Word of God but the former is, as history helps us to verify.
Well, it is possible to argue this way but the problem is that we have now reached the point where our conclusion is clearly driving our interpretation, rather than vice-versa. Taking this kind of route would mean that, rather than accepting God’s revelation in its plain and normal sense, we are stretching the various texts so that they take on an unintended (and unbelievable) meaning.
Indeed, this is the basic difficulty with the whole teetotal approach to wine and its historical backdrop. In spite of biblical indications otherwise, teetotalers believe they have found an absolute command from God to keep away from all beverages with any alcoholic content. This produces such a strong perception of right and wrong in their minds that they are willing to overlook, or even revise, historical evidence that contradicts their desired conclusion. After all, as the thinking goes, it is virtually true by definition that there can be no such thing as evidence against an absolute standard of holiness and righteousness. Consequently, teetotalers freely cite anything from history that appears to support their ideas but summarily dismiss that which doesn’t. Such a tactic, as the thinking goes, cannot possibly be questionable when we already “know” our conclusion is absolutely correct.
In this fashion, we can see how teetotalism flows from certain presuppositions which are then forced onto the evidence. One simply does not become a teetotaler because of clear historical precedents. Rather, historical “precedents” are discovered because one is already convinced of teetotalism.
In summary, it is extremely artificial and arbitrary to assert that biblical praises of wine are only meant for a kind of beverage which doesn’t intoxicate. The historical and cultural backdrop to the Scriptures just doesn’t support this. It is a much more simple and natural interpretation that, whenever the Scriptures praise wine, it is a case of wine not being drunk to excess but being consumed enough to cause merriment. And, whenever the Scriptures condemn wine, it is a case of wine being ingested to the point where drunkenness is the inevitable result. The latter is not sanctioned by the Word of God but the former is, as history helps us to verify.
Footnotes
(1) E. W. Heaton, Everyday
Life in the Old Testament (NY: Charles Scribers’ Sons, 1956), 105-106.
(2) Ibid., 106.
(3)
Andre Finet, "An Ancient Vintage," Everyday Life in Ancient
Mesopotamia,
ed. Jean Bottero, trans. Antonia Nevill (Baltimore: John Hopkins Univ. Press,
2001), 85-86.
(4) Ibid., 88.
(5)
Georges Contenau, Everyday Life in
Babylon
and Assyria
(London: Edward Arnold, 1954), 79.
(6) Heaton, 86-87.
(7) Adolf
Erman, Life in Ancient
Egypt,
trans. H. M. Tirard (NY: Benjamin Blom, 1894), 198-199.
(8) Maynard A. Amerine & Vernon L. Singleton, Wine: An Introduction, 2nd
edition (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1977), 14.
(9) Quotation from sermon preached by a teetotal seminary professor with which
we’ve had personal contact.
(10) H.
Blumer, The Home Life of Ancient
Greece,
trans. Alice Zimmern (NY: Cooper Square Publishers, 1966), 209-210.
(11) Ibid., 213-214.
(12) C.
E. Robinson, Everyday Life in Ancient
Greece
(Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1933), 77-78.
(13)
Lionel Casson, Everyday Life in Ancient
Rome
(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1975), 25.
(14)
Jerome Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient
Rome,
trans. E. O. Lorimer (New Haven: Yale University Press), 269.
(15) Xenophon, “The Symposium,” Greek Social Life, ed. F. A. Wright (NY:
E. P. Dutton, 1925), 114.
Copyright 2004 by Dennis E. Bills
and Steven P. Crawford
Content last updated on
Thursday, January 15, 2004 08:44 PM
|
No comments:
Post a Comment