"True fasting doesn’t change God, it changes us. We voluntarily go hungry in order to tame our deeper passions of sin...True fasting isn’t about food—though it is through food that we begin to train ourselves for spiritual battle. To say no to a simple meal aids us in saying no later to further and viler temptations."

In the fourth century, a well-known desert-dwelling monk called Abba John the Dwarf was asked to give a word on fasting. He said, “if a king wanted to take possession of his enemy’s city, he would begin by cutting off the water and food and so his enemies, dying of hunger, would submit to him. It is the same with the passions of the flesh: if a man goes about fasting and hungry, the enemies of his soul grow weak.”

At that same time, another monk, Abba Pambo, asked the first desert father, St. Anthony the Great, a similar question. “What ought I to do?” He replied, “Do not trust in your own righteousness, do not worry about the past, but control your tongue and your stomach.”

These two saints pronounce so profoundly what has been taught and practiced since the time of Jesus Christ, who presumed the ascetical discipline of fasting, saying to his disciples, “When you fast…”

Christians have, since those days, fasted on specific days of the week as well as during specific seasons of the year. Wednesdays’ fasts are kept in memory of Jesus’ betrayal by Judas. Fridays’ fasts are kept in solemn memory of our Lord’s crucifixion. Whole seasons, sometimes days, weeks, or months long are also marked by intentional fasting. The most well known is Great Lent. Orthodox Christians also still maintain the ancient fasts during the 40 days prior to Christmas, as well as the two weeks before the Falling-asleep (death) of Mary, and the days before the feast of the Martyrdom of the Apostles Peter and Paul.

Practically speaking, this fasting is perhaps better named abstinence. The discipline is rarely an absolute fast—no food or drink; rather, we abstain together from meat and dairy as well as wine and oil, depending on the season. A first century Christian, though, would be scandalized to know of flocks of folks receiving communion on stomachs full of breakfast foods and coffee, since from the earliest days, Christians fast from all food and drink from the evening before receiving communion until the very time of receiving the Lord’s holy Body and Blood on a Sunday morning. In fact, this is what the term “break-fast” means!

An outsider to this beneficial and ancient spiritual discipline may see it as a legalistic list of rules to follow for the sake of punishing oneself. Nothing could be further from the truth. Fasting is not an end in itself, and the goal of fasting is holiness, not punishment or self abuse. Fasting is, as we read above, one of the primary spiritual weapons Christians have always employed to strangle our enemies—the demonic passions of sin. In fact, the command “put to death” is given to Christians only (only!) with reference to these passions. St. Paul speaks to the Colossians in this way: “Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry” (Col. 3:5ff). Fasting is used in this battle, to cut off supplies to the stomach which rules us and to break off the rudder of our misguided ship, commonly called the tongue (James 3:4ff).

It is also important to remember these two critical axioms: God doesn’t need our fasting, and fasting isn’t about food.

Years ago, Oral Roberts made himself rather infamous by climbing into a prayer tower and claiming that the Lord told him he would die if folks didn’t give him eight million dollars. Fasting is not a hunger strike to gain money or other benefits from people. Nor is it a means of twisting God’s arm. In the first seminary I attended, the only time we ever heard anything about fasting was when the faith budget for the operation of the school was significantly short. A day of prayer and fasting was called for. This, in the absence of a disciplined, appropriate spiritual life, borders on heresy. Fasting is not a way to say, “God, I’m going without food, give us what we have determined that you should give us.”

True fasting doesn’t change God, it changes us. We voluntarily go hungry in order to tame our deeper passions of sin. Additionally, in feeling that hunger, we can both be drawn more deeply to the Lord, and also seek to use the money we have saved by not eating richly to feed those who are involuntarily hungry. The prophet Isaiah described this beautifully: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?” (Is. 58:6ff).

True fasting isn’t about food—though it is through food that we begin to train ourselves for spiritual battle. To say no to a simple meal aids us in saying no later to further and viler temptations. Interacting with others over long periods of time in a state of great hunger teaches us very clearly how easily irritable and disagreeable we are. In recognizing this ungodliness, we can, by God’s grace, begin to reorient our rudder (tongue) to speak words which build up. Also, we can begin to choose the activities and behaviors which honor the Lord. When “food” becomes the focus (either too much, called gluttony; or two little—idolized in the dieting crazes), the deeper end of fasting is completely missed, and to our spiritual peril.

According to Jesus’ teaching in his Sermon on the Mount, there is no Christianity without prayer. There is no Christianity without almsgiving. Likewise, there is no Christianity without fasting and the broader ascetical life. As the Western churches enter Lent, and as the Orthodox prepare to begin the same, let’s return to this essential spiritual discipline carefully, attentively, and quickly, with all desire to be transformed the Holy Spirit into the Saints we are called to become.

Fr. John Parker is Priest-in-Charge of Holy Ascension Orthodox Church, a mission of the OCA. He earned his M.Div. at Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry in Ambridge, PA, and his M.Th. from St. Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary in Crestwood, NY. He and his wife, Jeanette, and their two sons live in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina. In this "free time" you can find Fr. John surfing his 9'4 Hobie noserider.

Other featured articles by Fr. John: Returning to Paradise: The spiritual reality behind blessing with Holy Water and On Orthodoxy and orthodoxies.

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