Author's note:
I wrote another entry for Orange, this time on fasting. I do not think it is my best work, but I am pleased to report that a fellow parishioner let me know she was inspired to try her first fast in response! Praise God for working through even the roughest of writings to call us to good works.
This one has a bizarre back story - I had meant to sign up for something, and just hadn't gotten around to it. Wednesday morning and MB mentioned that no one had written fasting, and that it would be due the next day; I don't think she expected me to take it, but I am glad I did. I spent a lot of time in college fasting - not always well, but disciplined - and since then have, let's generously say, appreciated it more rarely. Reflecting on it, with my days of legalism behind me, reminded me what a blessing it is to fall into God's provision with our most basic need. Because I am taking one of those terrible medicines mentioned in the entry I am no longer able to fast for a week or even three days, but a well-timed day is at least possible, and I am pleased to be refreshed in it now.
I do regret that I won't be able to fast Easter this year. I ended up striking it from the article, but I recalled from Eusebius that there had been a very real controversy in the early church about whether believers were required to fast for one or three days at Easter. Looking it up again, I see that it was not just one or three days, but also there were advocates for 40 hours - the time of Christ's entombment in parallel to the wanderings of Israel and Jesus' fast in the desert (the concept of Lent would not show up until centuries later). Of course 40 hours is not three days and three nights, and maybe the entombment was actually 64 hours if Friday was a holy day, and and and ... really I see I'm already devolving into legalism and strict interpretation again. I look back at our forebears and am amazed at their faith; despite Christ never changing Christianity has grown into a wonderful understanding of God through the most recent couple millennia of the work of the Spirit and of diligent study and prayer of the saints, but there is something special about that simple faith of our fathers that is incredibly powerful too. I assume my children will say the same about me, and I hope that their understanding of God exceeds ours in ways we cannot yet imagine!
(“Fasting” is an overloaded term; today I am using it as “voluntarily not eating for a while, for spiritual reasons.” I have some outroductory information at the end of the email if you want some encouragement to get started, but the definition is enough to get you through the main section.)
Let’s start with the obvious: fasting is weird. It’s quiet - there’s no readings, no melody. It’s secret - normally, no other human knows it happened. It’s inconsistent - there’s no way to fast every day, and sometimes our spiritual plan needs to succumb to corporeal concerns. There’s not even work: it takes no time at all to not prepare dinner, to not eat, and to not clean the dishes! How can this big pot of nothing be a spiritual discipline at all?
Fasting was important to Jesus, and not just during his bedraggled wilderness wanderings. He told his disciples that sometimes we need to fast for others (Matthew 17), and told everyone who would listen that we disciples were going to do it (Matthew 9). We can recognize some natural benefits:
Fasting humbles us before God; we recall physically that God has always been our true and sole provider.
Fasting humbles us before each other; basic needs are the same for everyone, rich or poor.
Fasting reminds us how much God cares about us, in all the little, taken-for-granted moments of our day.
Physical hunger keeps on reminding us that our real hunger is for communion with God and Christ’s body.
Breaking the fast - well, that’s another thing entirely! Once we have humbled ourselves and are able to answer his knock, Jesus comes to dine with us - both individually, and collectively - and we foretaste the coming feast at his heavenly banquet.
Ultimately, fasting brings us simultaneously into and out of our humanity: we find ourselves distracted and limited by this same body that Christ so eagerly took on, and also we recognize that God is so much bigger than our fleshy concerns. His power is made perfect in our weakness.
But wait! There’s one more incredibly important aspect to fasting, right out of Isaiah 58, and it is not individual. Experiencing hunger in our own bodies gives us a visceral understanding of the terrible truth that 39 families at Seawell Elementary don’t have enough to eat. Hanging around with people not eating, because they cannot eat, reveals how the structures of modern life - yes, even as modern as 2500 years ago - are used to oppress and depress the very people that Jesus came to save. The activation of our primal instincts recalls our own basic human needs - not only hunger but shelter, security, clothing, health care, legal protection, friendship, and most especially respect and dignity on Earth that mirrors the love of God. There are so many needs to be met in this world of ours! True fasting is not passive, but an act of spiritual discipline that is marked by action. Instead of eating, feed; instead of preparing, pray; instead of cleaning, serve. Fast with mercy; fast with love. Fast well!
Outroduction: If you are curious about fasting and want to give it a try, this might help you get started; a key takeaway is talk with your doctor FIRST and as always our excellent pastors will certainly be happy to give specific guidance.
I usually mean “fasting” as not eating at all, water only, sunset to sunset - but lots of people drink juice or stock or even porridge and soup, or eat after dark, or skip individual meals or go lunch-to-lunch or do it twice every week. I doubt God much cares exactly how you do it; pick a lane, start with one meal, learn as you grow, just like any other discipline.
Some medicines react very unpleasantly to missing any meal, and a lot of medical conditions make even a short fast dangerous. Check with your doctor even if you think you are in good health. The body is both resilient and fragile, as (spoiler alert) we will be discussing in a few short weeks.
If giving up food is not in the cards you can certainly fast from other things; the fast is about making space for God in your life, both by the reminder of voluntary deprivation and in opening up extra room for prayer and service. Our pastors probably already have a list of excellent non-food suggestions, or come find me and we can brainstorm together.
If you go the food route:
You will not be continually hungry when you fast; it comes and goes, and not when you expect. If you prepare food for others - for example, small people - then set a reminder to feed them when they will be hungry. There is some physical weakness - again, talk to your doctor - but the biggest changes for me come out in mood; ask a friend to help you monitor your emotions.
After starting a fast the hunger, at least for me, starts right away, and I do mean well before I would normally be hungry. I think this presumptive weakness is the most absurdly human part of the experience – and it is tempting enough that my incomplete fasts have usually ended in the first couple of hours. Which brings me to my last point:
Be gracious with yourself, and humble before God in your humanity. Fasting is weird and your body will do weird things. It is okay to unthinkingly break fast on one of the kids’ grapes while you make them lunch, or realize you are drinking a soda, or decide you are done with it for today. It is okay to do something different than you planned, or to not exercise or to take a nap in your car or sob about something that happened half a millennium ago or to be annoyed at a smell or snap at the clerk at the store - though in that last case you really should go back and apologize right away, or you’ll get halfway out of the parking lot and decide you need to go find them in the back and it is extremely embarrassing for both of you. Learn, grow, fall completely into God’s mercy. (Note: all biographical…)
Fasting helps us live with our own weakness and learn to rely fundamentally on God; it is an incredible opportunity to humble our embodied selves into the embrace of God’s provision, and to make space for prayer and supplication and compassion in a uniquely raw posture. I hope you find it a wonderful experience!