19 January 2026
New Hearts, Not Just Old Habits
Today’s readings place us right in the middle of a tension that runs through the entire Bible:
the difference between outward religion
and a heart that actually belongs to God.
In the first reading,
we meet King Saul at a turning point.
God had given him a clear command through the prophet Samuel.
Saul partially obeyed
—he did some of what God asked,
but not all of it.
He spared what he thought was valuable.
And when Samuel confronts him,
Saul insists that he meant well.
He even claims that the things he kept were for God,
to offer in sacrifice.
Samuel’s response cuts straight to the heart:
“Does the Lord so delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as
in obedience to the voice of the Lord?”
In other words,
God is not impressed by religious gestures that mask a disobedient heart.
Saul tried to dress up compromise as devotion.
He wanted the appearance of faithfulness
without the cost of actually surrendering.
That is why Samuel says something so strong:
“Rebellion is like the sin of divination,
and presumption is like idolatry.”
That sounds harsh until we understand what is happening.
Saul is no longer listening.
He has decided that his own judgment is better than God’s word. He is still doing religious things
—but now on his own terms.
And when we stop listening to God,
we always start listening to ourselves.
That same tension shows up in the Gospel.
People come to Jesus confused.
John’s disciples fast.
The Pharisees fast.
Why don’t your disciples?
Fasting, prayer, discipline
—these are all good.
They are part of Israel’s spiritual life.
But Jesus is revealing something deeper.
He does not say fasting is bad.
He says timing matters.
Meaning matters.
Relationship matters.
“The bridegroom is here.”
The point is not whether the rule is being kept.
The point is whether the heart recognizes who is standing in front of it.
Jesus then gives two short parables:
new cloth on old clothes,
new wine in old wineskins.
These are not about being trendy or discarding tradition.
They are about what happens when God does something new and we try to force it into old categories.
New wine is alive.
It expands.
If you pour it into a rigid, brittle wineskin,
everything will be lost.
That is what happens when a heart becomes closed.
We can still go through the motions of faith
—prayer, fasting, worship—
but without openness,
without trust,
without obedience,
it becomes empty.
Saul offers sacrifices
but no longer listens.
The Pharisees keep the rules
but miss the Bridegroom.
Both are warnings.
God is not looking for spiritual performances.
He is looking for surrendered hearts.
That is what connects these two readings.
The real question is not:
Are we doing religious things?
The real question is:
Are we listening?
Listening requires humility.
It means admitting that God may ask us to let go of things we are comfortable with.
It means we don’t get to decide which commands we keep and which we soften.
It means we don’t get pick and choose which directive or teaching of the Church we will follow,
and which one we will not.
It means we don’t get to control the terms of our relationship with Him.
Saul tried to manage God.
The Pharisees tried to contain Him.
Jesus came to do neither and to show us a different way.
He came to make all things new.
And newness always stretches us.
Sometimes God calls us to change habits.
Sometimes He calls us to release grudges.
Sometimes He calls us to trust Him in ways that feel risky.
Sometimes He calls us to leave behind old ways of thinking that no longer fit who we are becoming.
When we resist that,
when we cling to what is familiar
simply because it is familiar,
we become old wineskins.
The good news is that God is always ready to give us new hearts.
Samuel did not speak to Saul to condemn him
but to wake him up.
Jesus did not speak to the Pharisees to humiliate them
but to invite them deeper.
And He speaks to us for the same reason.
God desires obedience
not because He wants control,
but because obedience means relationship.
It means we trust Him enough to let Him lead.
It means we are willing to be made new.
The question today is not whether God is speaking.
He always is.
The question is whether we are willing to listen
—and whether we are willing to let His word stretch us into something new.