Wine played a key role in the ancient world, where safe, reliable water sources were scarce. It could be stored for long periods of time; if lightly fermented it was rich in sugar content; it was high in mineral content; it tasted good and generally had intoxicating qualities. Thus it was a valuable commodity and treated with reverence.

Wine is, of course, made from grapes. Grapes – sweet, juicy, nutritious and full of energy-rich fructose – represent the Lord's own exquisite desire to be good to us. That's powerful stuff! But grapes have a short shelf life; you might eat a bunch for a burst of energy, but you can't exactly carry them around with you for long-term sustenance. And so it is with desires for good: They tend to come to us in energizing bursts, but fade away fairly quickly. We need something more stable and lasting.

At some point in the distant past people figured out that if you squeeze the juice from the grapes and let it ferment, the result is a liquid that offers that stability: wine. The spiritual meaning works the same way; if we examine our desires for good, try to understand and think about how to apply them, what we will get are concepts about what good really is, how to recognize it and how to make it happen. And just like the wine, these ideas offer stability and portability. For instance, finding a wallet full of cash on the sidewalk might severely test our desire to be honest, but the idea that "you shall not steal" is pretty hard to shake.

Wine, then, on the deepest level represents divine truth flowing from divine goodness – the true principles that arise from the fact that the Lord loves us and desires everything good for us.

Wine comes in many varieties, though, and is used in many ways. Depending on context it can represent truth that arises from a desire for good on much more mundane levels. You want your children to be healthy so you make them brush their teeth even though they complain and it's a pain in the neck; the truth that brushing their teeth is good for them is wine on a very day-to-day level.

In some cases wine can also actually represent good things that arise from true ideas, something of a reverse from its inmost meaning. This happens when we are in transitional stages, setting higher ideas and principles above our less-worthy desires in an effort to reshape our actions. In that case our principles are the things being squeezed, with good habits the result.

There is also, of course, a darker side to wine. There is a good deal of debate about just how much alcohol wine had in Biblical times, and some of it may indeed have been more like concentrated grape juice. But there are also many references to wine and drunkeness, so some of it, at least, was fairly potent.

On a spiritual level, getting drunk on wine represents relying too much on our ideas, taking logic to such an extreme that we forget the good things we were trying to achieve in the first place.

(Odkazy: Apocalypse Explained 376 [1-40], 1152; Apocalypse Revealed 316, 635; Arcana Coelestia 1071 [1-5], 1727, 3580 [1-4], 5117 [7], 6377, 10137 [1-10]; The Apocalypse Explained 329 [2-4]; The New Jerusalem and its Heavenly Doctrine 219)

196. In ancient times people who relied on sensory evidence rather than matters of revelation were called serpents. Nowadays the position is even worse, for not only are there people who believe nothing unless they can see it with their eyes and apprehend it with their senses, there are also those who confirm themselves in that attitude by means of facts unknown to the most ancient people, and who in so doing blind themselves very much more. To make known how people who draw conclusions about heavenly things on the basis of sensory evidence, facts, and philosophical arguments, so blind themselves that they subsequently see and hear absolutely nothing, and who are not only the deaf serpents but also the far more deadly flying serpents, mentioned in the Word as well, let their belief concerning the spirit serve as an example.

[2] Anybody who is sensory-minded, that is, whose belief is rooted solely in the senses, denies the existence of the spirit because he does not see it. He says, 'Because I do not feel it, it is nothing; what I see and touch, I know to exist'. Anybody who is factually-minded, that is, who bases his conclusions on factual knowledge, says, 'What is the spirit but perhaps breath, or vital heat, or something else known to me, which is dissipated when it comes to an end? Do not animals as well have a body, and senses, and something analogous to reason? Yet people say that animals are destined to die but man's spirit to live.' In this way they deny the existence of the spirit. Philosophers, men wishing to be more incisive than everybody else, speak of the spirit in terms which they themselves are not clear about since they argue about them. They contend that not a single expression is applicable which in any way derives from what is material, organic, or spatial. In this way they dismiss the spirit from their ideas, and as a result it passes from their notice and becomes nothing at all.

[3] Those among them however who are more sensible say that the spirit is thought, but when they begin to reason about thought they at length conclude, since they separate thought from substance, that it will disappear when the body breathes its last. In this way everyone who reasons on the basis of sensory evidence, facts, and philosophical arguments denies the existence of the spirit, and in denying its existence never believes anything that is said about the spirit or about spiritual things. But if indeed the simple in heart are questioned they say that they know that the spirit exists because the Lord has said that they will live after death. Instead of smothering their rationality they nurture it by means of the Word of the Lord.