Hungry for God

On Ash Wednesday we were invited to the observance of a Holy Lent, characterized by “self- examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and alms-giving; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.” This week I’d like to write about the spiritual discipline of fasting.

In her Spiritual Disciplines Handbook, Adele Ahlberg Calhoun describes fasting as “the self-denial of normal necessities in order to intentionally attend to God in prayer.” Traditionally, this self-denial involves food, as eating is one of our most basic human needs. Throughout scripture, God’s people fasted. Moses, David, Anna, Jesus, Paul, and others in the early church fasted, believing that, as one fasts, a deeper, more focused kind of prayer becomes possible.

These prayers can have an internal and an external focus. Internally, as Richard Foster observes in his modern classic Celebration of Discipline, “More than any other Discipline, fasting reveals the things that control us.” For example, I have found that when I intentionally abstain from food, I become more aware of my compulsive behaviors – mostly looking at my phone. Dietrich Bonhoeffer uses strong language to underscore this point when, in his book on discipleship, he writes, “Fasting helps to discipline the self-indulgent and slothful will which is so reluctant to serve the Lord.”

Also, as we fast we learn more clearly how to depend on God. Dallas Willard, in his book The Divine Conspiracy, notes, “When we have learned how to fast ‘in secret,’ our bodies and our souls will be directly sustained by the invisible kingdom. We will not be miserable. But we certainly will be different.” Every time we feel hungry and do not eat, we learn that we do not have to satisfy every bodily impulse. As Stanley Hauerwas writes in his commentary on Matthew, “To be drawn into a life of fasting is to learn to live without what I assumed I could not live without.” As we abstain from physical food, we can learn more and more what it means that “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Deuteronomy 8:3), and begin to understand what Jesus meant when he said, “I have food to eat that you do not know about” (John 4:32).

Externally, God’s people have often fasted in the face of crisis. In Joel 2, the prophet calls a fast as an oncoming army approaches, and, in the New Testament, the leaders of the church of Antioch prayed and fasted before they commissioned Paul and Barnabas for missionary work. Jesus also told his disciples that some kinds of spiritual victory can only come by “prayer and fasting” (Matthew 17:21).

John Stott, in his commentary on the Sermon on the Mount, writes of another externally focused purpose of fasting, namely solidarity with the poor. Missing a meal to pray for those who fast involuntarily is always appropriate, and this kind of a fast will likely lead to some sort of action, possibly giving the uneaten food – or the money saved – to a ministry that provides food to those in need.

As we engage in the practice of fasting, it is essential to remember that fasting will not in any way make us more acceptable to God or more loved by God. God demonstrated his love for us, in Paul’s words, this way: “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). What fasting can do, however, is draw us deeper into the reality of God’s kingdom, and draw us closer to God’s heart. That is my hope and prayer for each one of us as individuals, and for our congregation, this Lent.

Peace,

Chris