Picture this: A grand banquet hall, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and the low hum of ancient hymns. At the head of the table sits the Lamb of God, finally united with His Bride. The glasses are raised, and the liquid inside catches the golden light of the celestial city. Now, ask yourself, is that glass filled with the pasteurized, purple sugary juice of a child's lunchbox, or is it a deep, nuanced vintage, aged to perfection and possessed of the "kick" that gladdens the heart?
In many corners of modern Christendom, we have attempted to sanitize the sacred. We have tried to pull the sting out of the joy, replacing the robust theology of the vine with a lukewarm substitute. But if we are to be people of the Book, and specifically, people of the Reformed tradition, we must reckon with the fact that our God is a Giver of good, potent gifts.
The Cana Precedent and the "Fruit of the Vine"
The journey toward the Marriage Supper begins at a wedding in Cana. It was here that our Lord performed His first sign, turning humble water into wine. And let’s be sharp about it: this wasn't mere grape juice. The master of the feast, a man whose palate was surely seasoned by years of hospitality, marveled that the best wine had been saved for last. In the ancient world, "best" didn't mean "least fermented." It meant a symphony of flavor, a rich tapestry of body and aroma that only true fermentation can produce.
When Jesus spoke of the "fruit of the vine" at the Last Supper, He wasn't using a euphemism to avoid the "w-word." He was using the standard liturgical language of the Passover, a meal that, by divine and traditional mandate, required real, fermented wine. To suggest otherwise is to ignore the historical and linguistic reality of the first century. The "fruit of the vine" carries a weight, a fermented gravity that points toward both the blood of the covenant and the joy of the coming kingdom.
A Gift Abused is Still a Gift
We often hear the objection that because evil men and women abuse wine, the church should flee from it entirely. This is a failure of logic and a slight against the Creator. As the Psalmist reminds us, God brings forth "wine to gladden the heart of man" (Psalm 104:15). We do not burn down the forest because some men are pyromaniacs, and we do not ban the feast because some are gluttons.
The Reformed tradition has always maintained a distinction between the good gift of creation and the sinful heart of the user. John Calvin himself received a wine stipend as part of his pastoral care in Geneva. He understood that while drunkenness is a "holy" mess of a sin, the moderate enjoyment of the vine is an act of worship, a recognition that God’s grace extends even to our physical senses.
When we look forward to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, we are looking forward to the ultimate restoration of all things. In that day, the abuse will be gone, but the gift will remain. It will be the "best wine" in its purest form, shared in the perfect brotherhood of the redeemed.
From the Vine to the Leaf: A Theology of Tobacco
This "theology of the vine" naturally extends to what we might call the "theology of the leaf." Just as the grape is a gift of the earth, so too is the tobacco leaf, a complex, resilient plant that, when handled with craftsmanship and patience, offers a sensory experience unlike any other.
At 1689 Cigar Co., we believe that the premium cigar is a companion to deep thought and fraternal fellowship. It is a slow-burning reminder that we are not meant to rush through life's blessings. Whether you are holding a London, a Westminster, or a Savoy, you are engaging with a handcrafted product that celebrates the patience of the harvest and the skill of the roller.
Is Smoking a Sin for Christians?
This is the question that often follows a defense of Christian liberty. Much like the debate over wine, the theology of tobacco requires us to look past legalism. Is smoking a sin? If it is an addiction that enslaves the will, or if it is done in a way that intentionally destroys the "temple" of the Holy Spirit, then yes. But for the Reformed Christian, a cigar is rarely about a "nicotine fix." It is about a moment of stillness, a time to "chew the fat" with a brother or to meditate on the mysteries of the universe while the smoke curls into the rafters.
As Charles Spurgeon famously noted, he could smoke a cigar to the glory of God. He saw it not as a vice, but as a relaxation of the mind that allowed him to return to his labors with renewed vigor. When we approach our signature blends, the silky London Connecticut, the spicy Savoy Habano, or the robust Westminster Maduro, we do so with a clear conscience, recognizing them as earthly shadows of the rest and celebration that await us.
The Confession Line: Handcrafted for the Brotherhood
Our main product lines are designed to reflect this heritage. We don’t just make cigars; we make conversation starters for theologically-minded enthusiasts.
- The London (Blue Label): Available in Connecticut, Habano, and Maduro, this blend is as nuanced as the 1689 Confession itself. It’s the perfect companion for a morning study session or a light afternoon pour.
- The Westminster (Orange Label): A bolder profile that stands up to the weightiest arguments. Its Maduro wrapper is dark, toothy, and full of earthy sweetness.
- The Savoy (Teal Label): A sophisticated Habano that offers a symphony of pepper and cream, ideal for those long evenings when the fellowship runs deep into the night.
Conclusion: An Amen to the Creator
So, let us set aside the grape juice and the legalistic scowls. Let us instead embrace the world as our Father's house, filled with gifts designed to point us back to Him. The wine at the Marriage Supper will be real, the joy will be visceral, and the fellowship will be eternal. Until that day, we have the "fruit of the vine" and the "theology of the leaf" to sustain our spirits and remind us of the feast to come.
Take a moment this week. Pour a glass of something bold, clip the cap of a Reformed Christian cigar, and offer a prayer of thanks. It is a blessing to live in a world where God's grace is not just a concept, but something you can taste, smell, and share.
The 1689 Riddle
I have a body but no soul, a head but no mind. I am born in the sun, cured in the shade, and I die in a fire of your own making. I speak no words, yet I have started a thousand deep conversations.
What am I? (Scroll down for the answer)
...
Answer: A premium cigar.
Disclaimer: While we celebrate the gifts of the vine and the leaf, 1689 Cigar Co. advocates for the moderate and responsible use of tobacco and alcohol. These products are intended for adults of legal age. Tobacco use poses health risks and can be addictive. Please enjoy these gifts with the temperance and wisdom that befits a follower of Christ.
0 comments