A Bottle In The Smoke

The image of a smoking caterpillar sprang into my mind.

Yes, John Tenniel’s 1865 illustration of the caterpillar puffing on a hookah in Alice In Wonderland imprinted itself on my brain. But alas, it was the wrong image.

This came up last night during our devotions. For years Ginny and I nurture the custom of reading a short Bible passage and praying briefly after dinner practically every night.

Last night as Ginny read a few verses from the longest chapter in the Bible, we encountered these words:

I know , O LORD, that Thy judgments are right, and that Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.

Let, I pray Thee, Thy merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to Thy word unto thy servant.

Let Thy tender mercies come unto me, that I may live: for Thy law is my delight….

My soul fainteth for thy salvation: but I hope in Thy word.

Mine eyes fail for Thy word, saying , When wilt Thou comfort me?

For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; yet do I not forget Thy statutes.

How many are the days of thy servant? when wilt Thou ….

Whoa!

Back up for a minute there.

“Don’t you mean smoke in a bottle?” I asked.

That’s when I thought of Alice’s caterpillar smoking fine tobacco in a Turkish water pipe—the smoker draws smoke through water in the bottle to cool it

I didn’t think they were blessed with pipe tobacco back in Old Testament days.

“No,” Ginny said, “It’s not ‘smoke in a bottle’; it says, ‘A bottle in the smoke’. What do you suppose that means? Did they even have glass bottles back then”?

Seeking answers to our questions, just for fun, we looked up the passage in a couple of different Bible translations:

One renders the Hebrew text as, “There's smoke in my eyes—they burn and water, but I keep a steady gaze on the instructions You post”.

Another says, “I am shriveled like a wineskin in the smoke, exhausted with waiting. But I cling to Your principles and obey them”.

Another says, “I have become like a wine-skin black with smoke; but I still keep the memory of Your rules”.

Another, “Although I have become like a shriveled and dried out wineskin, I have not forgotten Your laws”.

And another, “I am as useless as a discarded wineskin; yet I have not forgotten Your commands”.

Oh, that’s right. In the old days they kept wine in a cured leather sack. To drink, you hoisted the pliable bag up, rested it on your upraised elbow, squeezed the bag, and squirted the wine into your mouth without touching your lips to the spout—very macho.

As a curio, you can still buy wineskins. Try a college book store or one of those Pier One or World Import places.

Years ago, when I was teaching the Gospel of Luke to an adult Bible class, we had a Breakfast With Jesus lesson because so many of the things Jesus said and did happened at a meal. I asked everyone in the class to bring in some food mentioned in the Bible. They brought pieta bread, figs, apples, smoked fish, cheese, roast lamb—and one person brought in a wine skin and we took turns trying to drink from it without getting soaked.

Great fun.

This photo of an Italian statue of Polyphemus drinking from a wineskin looks just like me trying it. I mean the sculptor Antonio Novelli might well have used me for his model of the Cyclops.

Well, not exactly.

But you get the idea.

But, He-Man statue aside, why did the Psalmist say he feels like a wineskin in the smoke?

Jesus may have had this Old Testament Scripture in mind when He said, “No one puts new wine into old wineskins. The old skins would burst from the pressure, spilling the wine and ruining the skins. New wine must be stored in new wineskins. That way both the wine and the wineskins are preserved”.

When a wineskin bottle is fresh and pliable, it expands as the wine inside does. But if the skin is left hanging around, say on a tent pole, smoke from the hearth dries out the leather. It gets stiff. It cracks. It shrivels. It gets old. It can’t hold the new.

Oh, now I’m getting the picture. The Psalmist is saying he feels like a bottle in the smoke, dried up, past his sell-by date.

I can identify with that.

For instance, for the last few months I’ve encountered the problems associated with transforming my print books into e-books. I resist. I’m old fashioned enough to only think of books as real books and those others as air books… yet publishers everywhere confront the popularity of e-books with a new generation of readers. I’ve been working on new formats and considering the implications of free-range books and digital rights management.

New wine for my stiff old hide.

New technology. New ideas. New formats. New wine.

I face similar factors in my spiritual life. I’m comfortable with the way I am. I don’t want change. I want the familiar. I like the old hymns, the old methods, the old sermon modes—all this new stuff I see expanding in religious circles makes me feel as though I have gas.

Swollen up.

Ready to pop.

Seems to me like organized Christianity needs a good fart.

But that’s a different subject.

Saint Paul once said, “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away ; behold , all things are become new. And all things are of God…”.

Yes, the Lord is always bringing new things into my life, new people, new ideas, new problems, new victories, new defeats, a new Heaven and a new earth. He stretches me beyond my present capacity.

But I resist.

Like the Psalmist I too feel like a bottle in the smoke. Dried up, set in my ways. Like the Cyclops I’m content to dwell in my safe little cave. Like Alice’s caterpillar, I all I want is to sit on my mushroom, smoke my pipe, and watch the world pass by.

I say, “Thanks very much, Lord, but that’s enough. You can stop now. I’m happy the way things are. I like me the way I am. Quit already!”

And He says, “Open your mouth wide and I will fill it”.

I suspect He knows what He’s doing.

The Psalm says, “My soul fainteth … Mine eyes fail … I am become like a bottle in the smoke”.

That’s my condition.

It also says, “Yet, I do not forget Thy Statutes”.

That’s my hope.