Catholic Commentary
The Crowd's Reaction: Amazement and Mockery (Part 2)
13Others, mocking, said, “They are filled with new wine.”
The mockers meant to insult the disciples—"they're drunk"—but spoke a truth they couldn't see: the Spirit intoxicates more thoroughly than any wine.
As the crowd witnesses the astounding phenomenon of the disciples speaking in foreign tongues, a faction dismisses the spectacle with contempt, attributing the disciples' behavior to drunkenness from "new wine" (Greek: gleukos, sweet unfermented must). This sneer, far from discrediting the event, ironically becomes a launching point for Peter's great Pentecost proclamation. The mockers' words, though intended as ridicule, carry an unwitting depth: the disciples are indeed intoxicated — not with wine, but with the Spirit of God.
Verse 13 — "Others, mocking, said, 'They are filled with new wine.'"
Luke's careful use of the word heteroi ("others") distinguishes this second group sharply from those described in verse 12, who were genuinely amazed and asked in earnest, "What does this mean?" The mockers represent a contrasting response — contempt rather than wonder — and their presence is not incidental. Luke is a master narrator, and he records the full spectrum of human reaction to the divine irruption at Pentecost.
The Greek word translated "mocking" is diachlemazō, a term that implies open derision and scoffing. It is the same spirit of dismissal one encounters at the foot of the Cross (Luke 23:35–36) and before the Areopagus (Acts 17:32). Throughout Luke-Acts, the Gospel and its signs consistently divide their audience into those who receive with humility and those who harden in ridicule. This binary is not accidental — it reflects the "sign of contradiction" that Christ himself announced (Luke 2:34).
The specific charge — that the disciples are drunk on gleukos, "new wine" or sweet must — is particularly pointed. Gleukos (from which the English word "glucose" derives) referred to freshly pressed grape juice, still in early stages of fermentation and known for its sweetness and intoxicating potential. The choice of this word rather than oinos (ordinary wine) may reflect a deliberate attempt to amplify the insult: not only are these people drunk, they're drunk on something cheap and unsophisticated. Peter will immediately rebut this charge by pointing out it is only the third hour of the morning (9 a.m.), far too early for public intoxication (v. 15).
The Typological and Spiritual Senses
At the typological level, the image of wine and intoxication carries a rich biblical freight. The prophets frequently used the imagery of wine and abundance to describe the eschatological age of the Spirit (Joel 2:24; Amos 9:13–14). When the mockers cry "new wine," they are — without knowing it — gesturing toward the very fulfillment of messianic prophecy. The new wine of Pentecost is the Holy Spirit poured out upon all flesh.
St. Ambrose, commenting on this passage in De Spiritu Sancto, draws a striking parallel: "This wine is good — it is the wine that was set aside for last, as at Cana. The old wine of the Law has given way to the new wine of grace." The inadvertent aptness of the mockery is, for Ambrose, a sign of Providence at work even in the mouths of unbelievers.
St. John Chrysostom (Homilies on Acts, Homily IV) notes that the mockery itself serves a providential purpose: it forces Peter to stand up and speak. The jeering crowd becomes the very occasion for the first great proclamation of the kerygma. "See how even the insults of enemies minister to the gospel," Chrysostom writes. The scoffing is thus instrumental — it draws forth the sermon that will convert three thousand souls.
Catholic tradition, drawing on both the patristic heritage and the living Magisterium, finds in this brief verse a microcosm of the Church's relationship to a skeptical world. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the Holy Spirit is "the interior Master of life according to Christ" (CCC 1697), and that those who receive Him are genuinely transformed in ways that can appear incomprehensible — even scandalous — to those outside the life of grace. The disciples' Spirit-filled behavior was so unlike ordinary human experience that it required a supernatural explanation; those unwilling to accept one reached for a natural one, however inadequate.
The mockery at Pentecost also anticipates the theology of the Cross as "foolishness" developed by St. Paul (1 Corinthians 1:18–25). In both cases, the divine breaks into human history in a way that confounds worldly wisdom. The Second Vatican Council, in Gaudium et Spes §19, acknowledges that the Church and her witness will always provoke incomprehension from those who evaluate spiritual realities by purely material or rational standards.
Furthermore, the image of "new wine" is theologically significant in Catholic sacramental teaching. Christ himself uses the image of new wine and new wineskins (Luke 5:37–38) to describe the radical newness of the Kingdom He inaugurates. The Holy Spirit poured out at Pentecost is precisely this new wine — the fulfillment of the New Covenant sealed in Christ's blood — bursting through the old wineskins of purely legal religion. Pope Francis, in Evangelii Gaudium §11, echoes this Pentecostal newness: "The Spirit... constantly makes the Church young." The mockers of Acts 2:13 stand as an enduring type of those who, in every age, refuse the renewing power of God's Spirit.
The mockery of Acts 2:13 speaks with startling directness to the contemporary Catholic. In a secular culture that increasingly regards fervent religious experience with suspicion or condescension — dismissing it as emotionalism, fanaticism, or intellectual weakness — the disciples' situation is hauntingly familiar. The faithful Catholic who prays openly, who weeps at Mass, who testifies to the work of the Spirit in their life, risks the same kind of social derision the disciples faced. The charge may no longer be "they are drunk on new wine," but the spirit of it — "they are irrational, naïve, or unhinged" — is very much alive.
This verse invites Catholics to examine their own response to manifestations of the Spirit. Do we, when confronted with charismatic renewal, deep contemplative prayer, or the bold witness of other believers, find ourselves in the camp of the amazed (v. 12) or the mockers (v. 13)? The Church's tradition of sobria ebrietas — sober intoxication with God — challenges us to remain genuinely open to the Spirit's movements without reducing faith to respectability. Practically, this means resisting the temptation to domesticate the Holy Spirit into manageable, socially acceptable forms, and instead praying daily for the courage that Pentecost bestows.
The patristic tradition also reflects on the irony embedded in the mockers' words. St. Augustine (Sermon 225) observes: "They called them drunk, and they were right — drunk, not with wine, but with the Spirit. For as wine makes a man bold and loosens his tongue, so the Holy Spirit loosened their tongues to speak what they could not have spoken of themselves." The spiritual intoxication theme is developed most fully by St. Ambrose and later mystical writers such as St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who speaks of the "sober inebriation" (sobria ebrietas) of the soul filled with God — a classic theme in Christian mysticism.