Some Thoughts on a Faithful Fast (and an Ash Wednesday sermon)

So this year, for the first time, I am actually summoning the guts to do a good ol' fashioned fast - no food, one day a week. (Actually, dinner Tuesday to dinner Wednesday.) I've been wanting to do this for a while, but have come up with all kinds of excuses, usually amounting to, "I need my energy to get through Lent." Well, this year for Lent, my congregations are doing a hunger theme. So instead of a Bible study on Wednesdays after soup supper, we are having speakers come from different organizations to tell us about the different facets of hunger. Yesterday I did a presentation on some basics of hunger (how the poverty line is determined, what barriers keep people living in poverty, the different "rules" that govern different classes), and then a piece on hunger and the Bible, in which we broke into small groups to discuss four different texts that deal with hunger in different ways (manna from heaven, gleanings in the Holiness Code, Amos 5, and James 9 about showing partiality, if you wondered). Next week we'll have someone from the local food cupboard talk about local hunger, then someone from Meals on Wheels talking about hunger among the elderly, then someone from Rochester Roots to talk about gardening in the city, then someone from the ELCA Hunger Task Force (along with some members who just got back from Tanzania) to talk about global hunger, and finally, I'll do another presentation on hunger advocacy. Should be a great series!

So I wanted my Lenten fast this year to go along with this. As a part of my thesis on hunger advocacy, I compiled an appendix of ways a congregation can get involved in hunger, including several different fast options: a regular day-a-week fast, a "food stamp fast" (only buy what food stamps would allow), a 100-mile radius fast (all local food)... you get the idea. I decided this year was the year to try for the first time a traditional fast, so I would actually feel a little bit of what it is like to be hungry, and to let that hunger remind me to pray for people who don't have a choice to fast. 

Yesterday was my first day. It was hard. I spent the first several hours of the day thinking about all the wonderful fruit I had in my fridge to eat, and being ultra aware of how my stomach felt. "When am I going to start feeling hungry?" Not long after I got up, turns out, which is usual for me, but my hyper-vigilance about it didn't help. As the day went on, the pain grew, and at some point I even started to feel like I might throw up. Delightful. (I didn't, but I often feel this way when I am very hungry.) By the time we got to soup supper, though, I was actually okay. The anticipation of it was worse than the feeling. It will be interesting to see how that develops over these six weeks. (My mom yells at me for not even having juice. My dad has gotten sick before because of fasting like this. But juice is expensive, and if the point of this is to in some way simulate what it's like to be hungry, then I don't think juice is an option. Still reflecting on that.)

During all this, I was writing this sermon, in which I reflected a bit on the purpose of fasting. It was definitely shaped by the hunger in my belly. Have a read.

Ash Wednesday

Feb. 13, 2013

Isaiah 58:1-12

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

         If there’s one thing that people outside the church know about the season of Lent, if they know anything at all, it is that it is a time when people fast. The concept of fasting may solicit a positive or a negative response. Though it is one of the most ancient practices of the Christian church, as well as a practice in many other religions, I think Lenten fasts have developed a somewhat negative appearance. There are a couple reasons for this, I suspect. One is that the sorts of traditional fasts you see may seem silly or unproductive to an outsider. To be honest, some seem silly to me, too! How is giving up chocolate supposed to bring me closer to God? My best friend is Catholic, and growing up I remember her family was insistent about meatless Fridays – though they often had fish, which I still consider a meat, so it always confused me. Also, I failed to see why fasting from meat on Fridays was a way to grow spiritually.

         Another reason Lenten fasts may seem silly is that their purpose has been perverted. I often hear things like, “I need Lent to come so I can give up sweets and finally lose that weight.” Or it becomes a second chance at a New Years resolution. Or a chance to kick a bad habit. None of these self-serving approaches are the intention of a Lenten fast.

         And it is this that Isaiah addresses in the passage we heard a moment ago. In this passage, he is speaking to the Israelites right after they have returned from exile in Babylon. He is speaking to people who didn’t have much, having been in exile and under Persian subjugation for many years, and they are longing for the Golden Age from before – an age that never really existed. They are finding life in Jerusalem harder than they remembered or imagined. They are poorer than they thought they’d be. The economy, as a whole, is terrible, and there are few if any good jobs, and the continuing Persian subjugation is making sure that this continues. Perhaps because of that pressure, they have fallen back into the old class stratification they had before – biblical accounts tell us that there was at least one servant or slave for every six people who returned from exile. And they found plenty of ways to oppress these servants.

         Spiritually, they are frustrated. They are fasting and worshiping and praying and yet God doesn’t seem to answer them. They don’t know why, and so they plead to God.

         Given that context, listen again to this passage from Isaiah, but this time I’ll read a different translation [CEV]. Listen for something you didn’t hear before.

God said to Isaiah:

Shout this message! 
Don’t hold back.
 Say to my people Israel:


You’ve sinned! You’ve turned against the Lord.

Day after day, you worship him
 and seem eager to learn
 his teachings.


You act like a nation
 that wants to do right
 by obeying his laws.


You ask him about justice,
 and say you enjoy
 worshiping the Lord.

You wonder why the Lord
 pays no attention
 when you go without eating
 and act humble.
 But on those same days
 that you give up eating,
 you think only of yourselves and abuse your workers.

You even get angry and ready to fight! No wonder God won’t listen 
to your prayers!

Do you think the Lord
 wants you to give up eating and to act as humble as a bent-over bush?
 Or to dress in sackcloth
 and sit in ashes?


Is this really what he wants
on a day of worship?

I’ll tell you
 what it really means to worship the Lord.


Remove the chains of prisoners 
who are chained unjustly.


Free those who are abused! 

Share your food with everyone 
who is hungry;


share your home
 with the poor and homeless.


Give clothes to those in need; 
don’t turn away your relatives.

Then your light will shine 
like the dawning sun,
 and you
 will quickly be healed.
 Your honesty will protect you 
as you advance,


and the glory of the Lord 
will defend you from behind.

When you beg the Lord for help, he will answer, “Here I am!”

Don’t mistreat others 
or falsely accuse them 
or say something cruel.

Give your food to the hungry and care for the homeless.


Then your light will shine 
in the dark;

your darkest hour will be like the noonday sun.

The Lord will always guide you
 and provide good things to eat
when you are in the desert.
 He will make you healthy.


You will be like a garden 
that has plenty of water


or like a stream 
that never runs dry.

You will rebuild those houses 
left in ruins for years;
 you will be known 
as a builder and repairer
 of city walls and streets.

***

What did you hear? [Wait for responses]

I have done a lot of reflection on this text this week, because in fact, I decided that for Lent this year, I would do a good old fashioned fast one day a week, no food, only water from dinner Tuesday to dinner Wednesday. And now here is Isaiah, who seems to be telling me that God doesn’t want that.

But I’m not really sure he is saying that. Like so many things, motivation, intention, and accompanying prayer must be considered along with this. The Israelites Isaiah is talking to seem to be fasting for two reasons: for personal gain, or for show. It’s the same situation with the hypocrites that Jesus rebukes in our Gospel lesson. They want God to notice them, to pay attention to their righteous acts, and to be rewarded for it. And God’s response to that is, “You are acting like you righteous, faithful people, but your words and deeds do not match up. If you are truly a God-fearing people, don’t show me this by acting all humble and pious. Show me by serving people in need, by not oppressing those among you, by going out of your way and even putting yourself on the line to help others.”

That’s much harder than giving up chocolate. It takes a lot more of ourselves to accomplish it, and a lot more prayer. But our Lenten fasts, whether they are giving something up or taking on a spiritual practice, can help us to be this sort of faithful person. As we embark on our own Lenten fasts, there are some questions we can ask ourselves that can help us determine what a faithful fast looks like:

First: Am I doing this for personal gain? Am I hoping to lose weight, or kick a bad habit, or to finally make good on my New Years Resolution? If so, then that is probably not the right fast for you. While it is certainly okay to want to do those things, and to be the best and healthiest people we can be, if our primary motivation is self-gain, then our focus is on ourselves, and not on God, or our relationship with God, or our neighbor.

Second: Am I doing this to be noticed? This is a tough one. On the one hand, it can be helpful to be held accountable by someone. But it’s a fine line between seeking accountability and showing-off. Jesus tells us this in his observations of “the hypocrites” – who announce their almsgiving with a trumpet, and pray on street corners, and scrunch up their faces when they fast. Does that mean you shouldn’t tell anyone about your Lenten discipline? No, not necessarily. But any sharing you do, let it be in the interest of building up the body of Christ, or helping someone else, or deepening your relationship with God or your neighbor.

Third: Does this fast help me be more faithful? This is perhaps the most important question of all. Isaiah offers us a pretty powerful explanation of what right worship, faith and righteousness look like: it is to loose the bonds of injustice, let the oppressed go free, share your bread with the hungry, offer your home to the homeless, clothe the naked, and satisfy the needs of the afflicted.

One of my deepest hopes for this Lenten series on hunger is that it will help us all to understand some of these things, especially those concerning poverty, in new, different, deeper ways. The hope of that outcome is part of my reason for choosing to practice a once-a-week fast from eating. One day a week, I will feel in my belly the same pain of hunger that so many people around the world feel every day, against their will. This in turn will, I hope, motivate me to do those things that Isaiah talks about, because I will have had a small taste of it myself – though still nothing close to what someone actually living in poverty might feel. Throughout the day, the growing pain becomes a constant reminder to pray for people who don’t have a choice to go hungry. My loss of energy throughout the day is a reminder that many people have to overcome that lack of energy every day, even as they work one or two jobs, sometimes physically demanding ones at that, just to make ends meet and provide a little nourishment and a home for their family. I hope and pray that I will remember these things on the other six days of the week, so that my fast will drive me to be the person of faith that Isaiah describes, and the Christian that Jesus’ own death and resurrection make it possible for me to be. And I hope and pray that if you’ve taken on a Lenten discipline, that it, too, will help you to grow closer to God and to your neighbor.

Please pray with me: Lord God, we are so often concerned about ourselves, and do things that will benefit us before anyone else. In the coming weeks, help us to look outward, to be aware of the needs around us, and inspire us by your Holy Spirit and by Christ’s own self-giving to be a people that serves you and gives what we have to serve our neighbors. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.