And they said, We will drink no wine; for Jonadab the son of Rechab our father commanded us, saying, Ye shall drink no wine, ye nor your sons for ever;
Jeremiah 35 stages a test in the temple: the prophet sets wine before a clan called the Rechabites and tells them to drink. They refuse, and the chapter asks why these outsiders kept a father's word for centuries while Judah would not keep God's.
Jonadab, also spelled Jehonadab, lived when Ahab ruled Israel. One writer reads the rule he gave his family as a response to the state of the nation around him.
Jeremiah 35:6 tells us that Jehonadab commanded his sons not to drink wine, not to build houses, not to sow seed or plant a vineyard, but to live in tents. The reason is clear. He saw that the state of Israel under Ahab was offensive to God, and he wanted to keep himself and his family separate from it.
It is easy to read the refusal as a rule about alcohol. One writer points out that the same command bans things nobody calls sinful.
It is plain God does not tempt anyone to evil. The very fact that the Lord told the prophet to bring them into the temple, set wine before them and tell them to drink shows that this is no question of moral evil. Here is convincing proof. Besides the charge to drink no wine, Jonadab had also commanded them not to build a house, not to sow seed, not to plant a vineyard, but to live in tents all their days. There is clearly nothing wrong in itself in a man having a house or sowing seed in a field. These were tests of their obedience, so they were as much bound to keep from sowing seed and planting vineyards as from drinking wine. The test used here was wine, I suppose because the others could not be applied so easily.
The setting made it easy to give in. The place was holy, the man offering the wine was God's servant, and witnesses stood by.
It must have been a strong temptation. God's faithful and suffering servant took them into the sacred house of God, and among the witnesses was a "man of God." In such a holy place, and invited by such men, they might have thought they were released from their usual obligation. But they stood the test.
Their father Jonadab was a distant ancestor, and his charge said "forever." One writer counts the years it had already run.
Jonadab lived during Ahab's reign, about 850 years before Christ's birth. What happens in Jeremiah 35 comes much later, in the reign of Jehoiakim, the son of Josiah, about 600 years before Christ's birth. So some 250 years lie between Jonadab's command and the Rechabites' obedience, which is 8–10 generations. They had understood that the passing of time made no difference to God here.
God's target was Israel, not the clan. The sting lay in who these obedient people were: outsiders.
And here were these Gentiles, these strangers, living in tents in obedience to their father's command. How faithful they were to their promise! How they honoured their father! Meanwhile Israel refuses just as plainly to listen to the Lord. It was not that God had not taken pains with Israel. Jonadab had never toiled so hard nor so persistently with his sons: he had no prophets to send to them.
One writer marks where a rule handed down from a father runs out.
God fully acknowledged their loyalty as sons, and rewarded it. But in a day of ruin or judgment, only the word of the living God can give strength to the soul and shed divine light on the path. The sons of Jehonadab could not do this. Their rule of life could not be adjusted to the new circumstances that came upon them. This is where any human creed or system shows its weakness.
God answered their refusal with a promise sworn on His own name. One writer turns that promise back on the reader.
The Lord was so pleased with their obedience to their father, and with their faithfulness to their pilgrim life, that He pledged His own name to keep a line of "sons of Jonadab" going to the end of time. The question for us is, are we among them? Do we chase the intoxicating pleasures of this world that wine stands for? Do we build houses, as though we were here to stay?
- Command — Jonadab barred his family from wine, houses, fields and vineyards. That kept them separate from a nation that had become offensive to God.
- Content — Building and sowing are not sins, so the ban on wine was never about wine. The whole charge was a test of obedience.
- Constancy — About 250 years and eight to ten generations later, the family still kept that command. They refused even when a prophet offered the cup inside the temple.
- Contrast — Outsiders honoured a dead father's word. Judah ignored a living God who kept sending prophets. That gap was the whole point.
- Crown — God pledged His own name that Jonadab would never lack a man to stand before Him. That is how much He values obedience. Yet a rule handed down from a father could not replace God's own word when disaster came.
neither shall ye build house, nor sow seed, nor plant vineyard, nor shall ye have [any]; but all your days ye shall dwell in tents, that ye may live many days in the land where ye sojourn.
Jonadab's charge to his family covered far more than wine. It reached to houses, crops, vineyards, and tents. Why would a father bind his children to a life like that, and why does God praise it centuries later?
Wine draws the attention here, but it is one clause of a single instruction. One writer warns against pulling it out on its own:
It is obvious that you cannot make this a teetotal question. The whole instruction is one. It relates as much to house-building, seed-growing and fruit-growing as it does to wine.
Sowing a field or owning a house breaks no law of God, and that is exactly the point. The value of the rule lay in the obedience it drew out, not in the things themselves. A promise went with it:
Here is convincing proof that the point is not moral evil. Besides the charge to drink no wine, their father had also commanded them, "You shall not build a house; you shall not sow seed; you shall not plant or have a vineyard, but you shall live in tents all your days." There is clearly nothing wrong in itself in a man having a house or sowing seed in a field. No one thinks so — no one but a madman. Yet these were tests of their obedience. They were as much bound to keep from sowing seed and planting vineyards as from drinking wine. The test used here was wine, I suppose, because the others could not have been applied so easily. Jonadab put all this before them as a motive for obedience on the earth: "that you may live many days in the land where you sojourn."
Taken together, the five refusals sketch a whole way of life. One writer takes them one at a time, and finds the marks of a Nazarite — a person set apart to God by vow:
Firstly, to abstain from wine, which represents the intoxicating covetousness of the world. Secondly, to refrain from building a house. That is, to refrain from settling down on the earth for good. Thirdly, to refrain from sowing grain, as if one were expecting something, even if it were only a year of harvest. Fourthly, to refrain from planting a vineyard. That is, to refrain from growing what would sooner or later lead to giving up one's Nazariteship. How many believers have lost theirs by failing to watch this point! Fifthly, to dwell in tents, as true sons of Abraham, as pilgrims and sojourners in the land of promise.
The phrase "where you sojourn" is striking, because this was their own country. The choice to stay unsettled in it was deliberate:
Was it the sense of the hopelessness of things outwardly that led Jonadab to be a stranger and a pilgrim among his own people? Did he realise that a land which rejected the Lord and despised His word was no place for him to settle? For him and his children, the life of strangers. For him, no building of houses and no planting of vineyards. Nothing tied him to this earth, and nothing here even looked like a portion for him.
How far should children copy such a rule? An inherited rule is the easier road, and it carries its own risk:
It is always easier to follow tradition than the written word of God. Tradition does not exercise the conscience, and it spares us the difficulty — sometimes a serious one — of giving reasons for what we do... What a father hands down to his son may not be bad in itself; it may have been good, at least for a time. But it sets up a false standard and a human authority in the soul. Even if this human authority does not deny the authority of God's word, it will certainly give His word second place.
The way to honour Jonadab is not to copy his tent. It is to share the judgment about his times that produced it:
He saw the evil and the general ruin that followed the glorious reigns of David and Solomon. That sight made him feel the need of a very narrow walk, and of a return to "what was from the beginning," taught by the patriarchs, in contrast to the looseness around him. May we also be true children of Jehonadab the son of Rechab in this time of the end. Not by outward practices that leave the heart far from God, but by the moral conduct those practices pictured.
- One rule. Wine, houses, seed and vineyards form one command. Pull out the wine alone and you miss the point.
- One test. Nothing on the list is wrong in itself. That proves the issue was obedience, not morality.
- One picture. Each clause paints a refusal to settle: no craving for the world, no foothold, no crop to wait for, no vineyard.
- One protest. Living as strangers in their own land was Jonadab's verdict on a country that despised God's word.
- One caution. A family tradition, however good, can take the place that belongs to God's word. Hold the principle, not just the practice.
And we have hearkened unto the voice of Jonadab the son of Rechab our father in all that he commanded us, to drink no wine all our days, we, our wives, our sons, and our daughters,
The Rechabites answer Jeremiah: their father Jonadab told them never to drink wine, and the whole family has kept his word. The striking thing is what God does with it — He holds up their loyalty to a long-dead ancestor to shame a nation that would not listen to Him.
The obedience described here had no living voice behind it. Jonadab was long gone, yet his words still shaped a household's daily life.
What impresses here is the span of time. Jonadab had lived during Ahab's reign (2 Kings 10:15, 23), about 850 years before Christ's birth. The events of Jeremiah 35 came much later, during the reign of Jehoiakim, the son of Josiah (Jer. 35:1), about 600 years before Christ's birth. So about 250 years lay between Jonadab's command and the Rechabites' obedience — some 8 to 10 generations. They had understood that time made no difference to God in this respect.
The chapter is often used as an argument for never drinking alcohol. Commentators reject that reading and point to what God was drawing out.
Campaigners against alcohol have, of course, made much of their bold refusal of wine, and have bent their history to serve the cause of total abstinence. This seems to me to miss the whole point of the chapter. The test which God permitted Jeremiah to apply to them was not, as some might think, a temptation to drink. God, who knew their principles and their faithfulness to them, wished to bring out their obedience to their father's word in contrast to the disobedience of Israel to His laws.
Wine was only one of several commands Jonadab gave. The rest of the list settles the question.
Clearly there is nothing wrong in itself with a man having a house or sowing seed in a field. No one thinks there is — at least, no one but a madman. Yet since these were tests of their obedience, they were just as bound to avoid sowing seed and planting vineyards as to avoid drinking wine. But the test used here was drinking wine, because I suppose the others could not have been applied so easily.
Jonadab lived during Ahab's reign. His rule was not about health or self-denial. It was his answer to the state of the nation around him.
He refused to take part in the pleasures of those around him. He also refused to have any share at all in the land in the condition it was then in. This was his protest against that condition. If Jehovah was rejected, and like a stranger in His own land and among His own professed people, so would Jonadab be.
A tent held no virtue of its own.
There is no moral excellence in living in a tent, any more than in a house. But there are circumstances where it fits better. It was a beautiful sign of pilgrimage when the fathers lived in tents.
God's point was never the Rechabites themselves. He set their quiet loyalty beside the nation's record.
In Jeremiah 35, the obedience of the Rechabites is set before the men of Judah. The point was to make them feel that some men, at least, showed more respect for a human father than Israel showed for God Himself.
Commentators also note the limits of a rule handed down from a parent.
It seems the Rechabites had kept their father's commands as long as they could. Their loyalty as sons was fully recognised and rewarded (Jer. 35:19). But in a day of ruin or judgment, only the word of the living God can give strength to the soul and shed divine light on the path. It meets us in all circumstances and conditions.
- Command. Jonadab's words bound a whole household — wives, sons and daughters alike. They were still obeyed 250 years later, eight to ten generations on.
- Not wine. The rule covered houses, seed and vineyards too. Wine was just the easiest part to test.
- Protest. Life in tents was Jonadab's refusal to take any share in a land where God was treated as a stranger.
- Contrast. God set that loyalty beside Judah's record: these men honoured a human father more than Israel honoured Him.
- Limit and reward. In a day of ruin, only God's own word can give strength and light — yet their loyalty was still fully recognised and rewarded.
and not to build houses for us to dwell in; neither have we vineyard, nor field, nor seed;
Jeremiah 35 sets one family of tent-dwellers in front of a nation that would not listen. Here the Rechabites list what they have never owned, and the chapter asks why God was pleased with such a rule.
The wine is the part of the chapter people remember, but this verse shows the ban ran much wider. One writer insists you cannot lift the wine out and leave the rest behind:
First of all, it is obvious that you cannot make this a question of total abstinence. The whole instruction is one; it relates as much to house-building, and seed-growing, and fruit-growing, as it does to wine. You cannot do what Jehoiakim did in the next chapter, and cut out with your penknife what you do not wish to hear.
Nothing in this verse is wrong in itself. A man can build a house and plant a field with a clear conscience. So why the ban?
They were obedient to their father — this was what was right. This is what pleased the Lord, and what He uses to correct Israel. What is a convincing proof that the point is not one of moral evil is this: besides the charge to drink no wine, their father had also commanded them not to build a house, sow seed, or plant or own a vineyard, but to live in tents all their days. It is clear that there is nothing at all wrong in itself in a man's having a house or sowing seed in a field; no one thinks so, at least no one but a madman. Yet these being tests of their obedience, they were as much bound to abstain from sowing seed and planting vineyards as from drinking wine… There is no moral excellence in living in a tent, any more than in a house. But there are circumstances where it is more fitting. It was a beautiful sign of pilgrimage in the fathers to live in tents.
Jonadab — also written Jehonadab — made a rule that reads like a list of ways not to settle down. One writer takes the items one by one:
First, to abstain from wine, which stands for the intoxicating greed of the world. Second, to refrain from building a house, that is, to refrain from establishing oneself upon the earth in a permanent way. Third, to refrain from sowing grain, as if one were expecting something, even if it were only a year of harvest. Fourth, to refrain from planting a vineyard… Fifth, to dwell in tents, as true sons of Abraham, as pilgrims and sojourners in the land of promise. Jehonadab understood that this land given to God's people was in no way a present possession. It could not be, while the people stayed in moral ruin, with the material disorder that came from it. His faith was still waiting for a rest for the people of God, and he and his sons showed this by the way they lived.
Owning nothing in the land was not withdrawal for its own sake. It said something about the state of the land itself:
He would not share in the pleasures of those around him. He would hold no portion at all in the land while it stayed in the condition that marked it then. That refusal was his protest against that condition. The people had rejected the Lord, so He was like a stranger in His own land and among the people who claimed to be His. Jonadab would be a stranger too.
One writer brings the tent into Christian life today. He links a strong testimony with holding little here:
The strongest and most successful testimony for Christ is not usually found with those who "buy houses and plant vineyards" here, with those who own their own property on this earth… We can easily see that it is best to be rid of what weighs us down.
Commentators differ in emphasis here. Kelly praises the obedience. Another writer notes what a rule handed down from a father cannot do in an emergency:
They could not adjust their rule of life to the new circumstances that came upon them. And this is where any human creed or system betrays its weakness. The Rechabites could not consult their father in the emergency, as is the believer's privilege now.
- Whole command. One command covered house, field, vineyard and wine. Keep one part and cut the rest, and you miss the chapter.
- Not morality. Building and sowing are not wrong in themselves. That shows the test was obedience, not right and wrong.
- Separation. Each refusal was a refusal to settle: no permanent home, no harvest to wait for, no roots in a land in ruin. The tent had no merit in itself, but it was a beautiful sign of pilgrimage.
- Protest. His own people treated God as a stranger, so Jonadab chose to live as a stranger too.
- Limit. A father's rule could not answer a new emergency. A believer can still consult God, which the Rechabites could not do.
but we have dwelt in tents, and have obeyed and done according to all that Jonadab our father commanded us.
A family called the Rechabites has just refused Jeremiah's offer of wine. In one sentence they sum up their whole way of life: tents, and all that their ancestor Jonadab commanded. Why stage such a test inside the temple? And what does loyalty to a long-dead father have to do with Judah's coming judgment?
Nothing here is about right and wrong in itself. Houses, seed, vineyards and wine are all ordinary things.
We should not assume that taking wine or refusing it was in itself aimed at pleasing God, or morally good. It is plain that God does not tempt anyone to evil. The Lord told the prophet to bring them into the temple, set wine before them and tell them to drink. That very fact shows this is no question of moral evil… They were obedient to their father — this was what was right… Clearly there is nothing wrong in itself in a man having a house or sowing seed in a field. No one thinks there is — no one but a madman. Yet these were tests of their obedience. They were as much bound to keep from sowing seed and planting vineyards as from drinking wine.
So is this chapter about alcohol?
In the first place, it is obvious that you cannot make this a teetotal question. The whole instruction is one. It covers building houses, growing seed and growing fruit just as much as it covers wine.
So what lay behind Jonadab's rule? One writer traces it to the state of the land itself.
He refused to share in the pleasures of those around him. He refused to have any part at all in the land in the condition that then marked it. That was his protest against that condition. If the Lord was rejected, and like a stranger in His own land and among His own professed people, then so would Jonadab be.
The same writer shows how God answered that faithfulness, then turns the questions on us.
So pleased was the Lord with their obedience to their father, and their faithfulness to their pilgrim principles, that He pledged His own Name to secure a line of "sons of Jonadab" down to the end of time. The question for us is, are we among them? Do we seek after the intoxicating pleasures of this world which wine symbolises? Do we build houses, as though we were fixtures here? Are our hopes held down here by things we should gladly push aside, if we thought the Lord were coming tomorrow?
The Rechabites were not the real audience that day.
In Jeremiah 35, the obedience of the Rechabites is put before the men of Judah. It was meant to make them feel this: some men, at least, showed more reverence for an earthly father than Israel showed for God Himself.
The verse claims unbroken obedience. Yet these men had moved into Jerusalem to escape an invading army. Commentators treat that as a real difficulty.
It is fair to ask whether they had any call to make this exception. Was it any better for them to be in Jerusalem than in the land as before? It is always good to hold fast the principle we are called to act on. It is dangerous to let ourselves change. Of course God has the right to bring in new principles for new circumstances. But we must take care that it is God who does so.
Another writer finds the flaw in the rule itself. A fixed rule cannot answer a new question.
Their rule of life could not be adjusted to the new circumstances that came upon them. This is where any human creed or system shows its weakness. The Rechabites could not consult their father in the emergency, as a believer can now. So it seems they did the very worst thing possible. Jerusalem, the holy city, must surely be a haven of refuge… But Jerusalem was doomed.
God rewarded their faithfulness. But a day of crisis asks more than a rule handed down.
It seems the Rechabites kept their father's commandments as long as they possibly could. God acknowledged and rewarded their obedience as sons. But in a day of ruin or of judgment, only the word of the living God can give strength to the soul and shed divine light on the path… It answers every question. It lets a person walk the path of obedience and dependence with more confidence than ever.
- Test, not temptation. Wine in the temple was never about moral evil; it was a check on whether a word given long ago still governed them.
- Whole, not partial. One command covered tents, houses, seed and vineyards. You cannot keep the wine part and drop the rest.
- Tents as protest. Refusing to settle was Jonadab's protest: his Lord was a stranger in His own land, so he would be one too.
- Sons shame the nation. Men who honoured a dead father outdid a people who would not hear the living God.
- The gap in the record. Their one exception was flight into doomed Jerusalem. A rule handed down cannot be asked a new question. Only the living word of God can direct the path.