Exploring the Meaning of Rhegnumi in Greek

ῥήγνυμι expresses violent throwing in a handful of passages that range from everyday images (pearls flung before pigs; wineskins bursting) to scenes of bodily upheaval under demonic assault, and even to a quoted summons to “break out” in celebration. Across these contexts, the verb consistently contributes force, rupture, and suddenness to what is happening in the line of thought.

Occurrences

“Don’t give that which is holy to the dogs, neither throw your pearls before the pigs, lest perhaps they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.” (Matthew 7:6)

Here the verb sits inside a warning framed as a pair of prohibitions. The action is not careful placement but a forceful casting of “pearls” into a setting where they will be mishandled. The following results—“trample them under their feet” and “turn and tear you to pieces”—paint the throw as an act that triggers reversal and violence: what is cast is treated with contempt, and the thrower becomes the target of aggression.

“Neither do people put new wine into old wine skins, or else the skins would burst, and the wine be spilled, and the skins ruined. No, they put new wine into fresh wine skins, and both are preserved.” (Matthew 9:17)

In this saying, ῥήγνυμι describes what happens to “old wine skins” under pressure: they “would burst.” The verb supplies the moment of failure—an outward rupture that has cascading consequences in the sentence: “the wine be spilled” and “the skins ruined.” The contrast with “fresh wine skins” and the outcome “both are preserved” highlights bursting as the opposite of preservation, the point where containment breaks down.

“No one puts new wine into old wineskins, or else the new wine will burst the skins, and the wine pours out, and the skins will be destroyed; but they put new wine into fresh wineskins.” (Mark 2:22)

This parallel formulation intensifies agency: “the new wine will burst the skins.” ῥήγνυμι marks the force exerted by what is inside, as if the contents become the violent actor against the container. The sentence then traces a three-step unraveling: bursting leads to outflow (“the wine pours out”) and culminates in loss (“the skins will be destroyed”). The verb thus anchors the chain that turns potential storage into waste.

“and wherever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams at the mouth, and grinds his teeth, and wastes away. I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they weren’t able.” (Mark 9:18)

In this description of affliction, the violent throwing is part of a pattern: “wherever it seizes him, it throws him down.” ῥήγνυμι functions as a bodily, observable effect of the seizure, immediately followed by physical symptoms (“foams… grinds… wastes away”). The verb conveys a sudden loss of control and an abrupt, forceful impact on the sufferer’s body—an assault that is not merely internal but visibly hurls him to the ground.

“No one puts new wine into old wine skins, or else the new wine will burst the skins, and it will be spilled, and the skins will be destroyed.” (Luke 5:37)

Again ῥήγνυμι supplies the critical failure point in the image of containment: “the new wine will burst the skins.” The consequences are presented in two coordinated results—“it will be spilled” and “the skins will be destroyed”—so the bursting is both the cause of loss (spillage) and the marker of irreparable damage to what was meant to hold. The repetition of the image across sayings presses the hearer to feel the inevitability of rupture when mismatch meets pressure.

“While he was still coming, the demon threw him down and convulsed him violently. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.” (Luke 9:42)

Here ῥήγνυμι appears in a compressed narrative moment: as the boy approaches, “the demon threw him down.” The verb portrays an aggressive interruption that precedes “convulsed him violently,” matching the force of the scene with a physical collapse induced from outside. In the same verse, the violent throw is answered by Jesus’ actions (“rebuked… healed… gave him back”), so the throwing functions as the visible cruelty that is then decisively countered.

“For it is written, “Rejoice, you barren who don’t bear. Break out and shout, you who don’t travail. For the desolate have more children than her who has a husband.”” (Galatians 4:27)

Within the quoted line, ῥήγνυμι underlies the imperative “Break out and shout.” The command pairs an eruption-like action with vocal celebration, addressing one described as “barren” and “desolate.” In this setting, the verb contributes a sense of forceful release—joy that does not stay contained but bursts outward into audible expression, matching the surprising reversal announced in the final clause.

Sense and Usage

Across these passages, ῥήγνυμι consistently adds the idea of force expressed as a throw or a bursting out that resembles a throw in its sudden, violent movement. In Matthew 7:6 the action is a deliberate casting of valuable items into a hostile environment, and the violence rebounds: animals first trample the pearls and then “tear you to pieces.” The verb shapes the warning by picturing a reckless, forceful action whose outcome is predictable within the image.

In the wine-and-wineskins sayings (Matthew 9:17; Mark 2:22; Luke 5:37), the verb is tied to rupture. The container is not merely worn; it fails in a way that produces immediate loss. Each wording traces bursting to spillage and ruin or destruction, making ῥήγνυμι the hinge between pressure and irreversible damage. Mark’s phrasing, in which the “new wine” itself “will burst the skins,” highlights the violence of the internal force: bursting is not accidental but the direct effect of something powerful acting upon what cannot bear it.

In the two exorcism contexts (Mark 9:18; Luke 9:42), the verb describes bodily throwing as an act of domination. The sufferer is seized and hurled down; the violence is concrete enough to be narrated alongside foam, grinding teeth, wasting away, and convulsions. ῥήγνυμι thus serves as a vivid externalization of the affliction: control is taken, and the body is treated like something to be flung. Luke’s narrative placement—“While he was still coming”—lets the throw interrupt movement toward help, so the verb also marks resistance to restoration that is immediately overcome when Jesus rebukes and heals.

Galatians 4:27 uses the same verb-family energy in a different register: not a body thrown down, not a container ruptured by pressure, but joy breaking out. The command “Break out and shout” depicts rejoicing as an action with momentum, as though gladness must be hurled outward into sound. Even here, the verb’s contribution remains consistent with its other scenes: what happens is not quiet or gradual but forceful, sudden, and outwardly expressed.

Imagery

The recurring pictures linked with ῥήγνυμι are tactile and abrupt: pearls flung where they will be trampled; skins bursting so that wine pours out; a boy thrown down in convulsions; a shout that breaks out from one once called desolate. Whether the outcome is loss and harm or exuberant release, the verb pushes the reader to imagine an action that cannot be domesticated—something cast, ruptured, or erupted with violence that changes the situation at once.

Sources: Lexical data from Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance and the Translators Brief Lexicon of Extended Strongs for Greek (STEPBible, CC BY). Occurrence data from the Translators Amalgamated Greek New Testament (STEPBible, CC BY). Scripture quotations from the World English Bible (public domain).