As Christians living in a postmodern world, we often have difficulty in wrapping our minds around the idea and purpose of fasting. Depending on our confession of faith we might hear our pastor or priest preach on fasting every once in a while, but, at least in my experience, this preaching often lacks teeth. Rarely are we reminded that fasting is an essential part of being a Christian. This has, without any iota of a doubt, affected and infected our Christian journey. Fasting has been a standard practice of the Church dating back to our Jewish roots and then clearly embraced by Christ, His apostles, and the Fathers of the Church. Denying oneself, especially in this physical way, is an essential practice of Christianity that we have largely lost. Lent begins today, and it is time for us to return to the spiritual discipline of fasting.

         Now, if you’ve ever opened your Bible to the Old Testament (especially the Book of Leviticus), you’ll have little doubt on the historical reality of Jewish fasts. The extent of Jewish fasts, as we read what was commanded by God and further developed over the course of Jewish history, can be flabbergasting to the modern Christian. In studying the New Testament, we begin to understand that there is a reason we think differently about fasting than our ancient brethren – it’s because Jesus’ teachings on fasting differ from the Jewish traditions. This is clear in the instances when the Pharisees question Jesus on the fasting habits of His disciples as we see in the encounter illustrated in Matthew 9:14-15 (this account is repeated in some way in every Gospel except John). We also see in the Acts of the Apostles that we are no longer called to abstain from pork or follow the Kosher parameters of Jewish food preparation. Yet Jesus still makes it clear from His teachings that fasting is an essential practice for the believer. He practices fasting Himself (Matthew 4:2), He recommends how best to engage in fasting (Matthew 6:16-18), and reiterates the importance of fasting in combating the devil (Mark 9:29). Later, in the Acts of the Apostles (in both Chapters 13 and 14) we learn that it was the practice of the early Church to fast, especially in preparation for important decisions in the Church community and before appointing leaders.

         It’s clear, then, that Jesus engaged in fasting Himself, that he expected His followers to participate in the practice, and that the early Church took Him for His word as they set about the business of evangelization. One of  the most striking passages in the New Testament that addresses fasting is the account of Christ expelling a demon that possessed a young boy in Mark 9:14-29. There are a number of extraordinary things about this passage that I strongly encourage you to pray with, but for our purposes, we’ll keep to the basics. Remember, this account begins with Jesus’ disciples having attempted to exorcise the demon themselves (Jesus had been busy with Elijah and Moses). They have clearly failed when Jesus joins them and the young boy’s father begs Jesus to heal his son, “if you can”. Jesus responds:

“And Jesus said to him, “If you can! All things are possible to him who believes.” Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!” And when Jesus saw that a crowd came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, “You dumb and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him, and never enter him again.” And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, it came out, and the boy was like a corpse; so that most of them said, “He is dead.” But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose. And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, “Why could we not cast it out?” And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer and fasting.”” (Mark 9:23-29)

Notice, Jesus does not tell his disciples that they could never have cast out this demon. He tells them it is prayer and fasting that make the exorcising of such a strong demon possible. Clearly, then, the physical discipline of fasting has an effect on the spiritual realm. While we could spend a decent amount of time marveling at the effects that this statement and others like it have on the Christian teaching on the oneness of body and soul and the Incarnation itself, we’ll just focus on the practical implications we can pull from such a teaching. Fasting, as Jesus so clearly demonstrates and then articulates, is an essential practice if we are to combat the evil one. There is a spiritual dimension to this physical practice.

         Historically speaking, we see many a Church Father give commentary on the practice of fasting. In some cases, they assume the practice is already standard to those they’re addressing and give advice on how best to implement it (see Augustine’s thoughts on that here). In others, we see that the cultural practices of the day have demanded a full, robust defense of fasting to be given. Tertullian wrote an entire treatise defending fasts (you can find that here). No matter who you look to in the early Church, from Ambrose to Augustine, John Chrysostom, Tertullian, or Leo the Great, it is clear that early Christians took Christ’s words about fasting seriously and implemented it in their communal life. By the time Thomas Aquinas addressed the question of fasting in the thirteenth century, many liturgical practices that include fasting had been solidified across Christendom. It’s worthwhile to examine Aquinas’ commentary on fasting because he incorporates so much of the teachings of those who came before him into his work (in fact, that’s the entire point of the Summa Theologiae – to be a summary of the Church’s teaching and practices up to that point).

         As with most things, Aquinas is straightforward to the point of being abrupt in his articles on fasting in Question 147 of the Second Part of the Second Part of the Summa Theologiae. If you have any more specific questions on the nature or purposes of fasting, I strongly recommend you dive into the various questions he poses. But for now, allow me to summarize his defenses of fasting, laid out in the first article of the question. He outlines three good reasons to participate in the practice. First, that fasting is the guardian of chastity. Second, that it allows the mind to more readily contemplate heavenly things (rather than be stuck in the muck of earthly things). And third, in order to take some small action in atonement for our sins.

Let’s spend just a little time with each of those defenses. To the first: It may seem strange to us moderns to connect something like fasting and chastity, but they are more related than one may initially think. Both of these virtues require denial of one’s appetites. This is a foreign concept to most of us. Our modern culture completely rebels against the idea that your appetites ought to be bridled or held in check. In fact, these days, it’s far more common to base one’s whole identity around one’s appetites (see so much of the LGBT messaging). [In order to understand some of the sheer ridiculousness of identifying oneself based on one’s appetites (sexual or otherwise), think of how silly it would be to form your whole identity around your deep, abiding desire to eat cheeseburgers. We would think someone had lost their marbles if they became obsessed with claiming that their longing for cheeseburgers was their defining characteristic.] But, as Aquinas articulates, Jesus offers us another way: the way of the Cross, the way of denial of self. It is only by denying these base appetites that we are able to find our true selves in Christ Jesus. There are many ways to work on building the virtue of self denial, but one of the most significant ways to begin this important Christian practice is by being able to say “no” to your naggling stomach when it’s telling you to find something to munch on or take a second helping.

This first reason (fasting as the guardian to chastity) is inherently connected to the second (turning one’s mind to heavenly things) that Aquinas gives. If we are unable to deny the appetites of our body, we will find ourselves less able to devote our mind to those things beyond this world. Put simply, without committing to the practice of fasting, we are far more likely to try to heal our spiritual wounds with things of this world, which can never act as more than band-aids. When something goes wrong in our day is it our first reaction to give this over to Jesus through prayer and meditation on Scripture? Or are we more likely to turn to a bottle of wine, a pint of ice cream, or a pot of macaroni and cheese? Denying ourselves food at certain times allows us to develop the appropriate response to what truly ails us. It habituates us to turn to Jesus in our time of need, rather than an earthly pacifier.

The third reason Aquinas gives for fasting (as a reparation for sins) is perhaps the most straightforward of his reasons. Fasting for this purpose is done for the sake of justice and atonement. Remember, if it was justice alone that determined our fate, most of us wouldn’t even get to enjoy our next meal, so horrifying are the effects of our own sins. Now, of course, no amount of fasting can cancel out the effects sin. There is only one action, one event in the history of the world that has been able to do that – that was the Death of Our Savior on the Cross. But we are consistently called to join in this suffering. Jesus calls upon us to join Him in Luke 9:23-25,

“And he said to all, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake, he will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?”  

In Colossians, Paul speaks of rejoicing in his sufferings because these join him with Christ on the Cross: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.” (Colossians 1:24) And in 1 Peter, we are told to embrace our sufferings as an expected part of the Christian life, and to, once again, rejoice in them:

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you to prove you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice in so far as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.” (1 Peter 4: 12-13)

It is only right that we join ourselves with Jesus in the small ways we can and will suffer in this life. Our God is the God of mercy, but also of justice.

         Ok, so maybe I’ve convinced you that fasting is a good spiritual practice in which you ought to participate in this Lent. Let’s talk about some practical ways to move forward with this conviction, especially if you are new to the idea. Now, if you’re Catholic or Orthodox, most of the basics of your fast are clearly outlined by your church and for an initial dive into the practice of fasting you should simply aim to keep these precepts. You can find the American Catholic norms here and the Eastern Orthodox fasting practices here. If you belong to another tradition within Christianity, I encourage you to look at these fasting rules just to get some good ideas. Don’t be intimidated by the extremity of the fasts prescribed (the Orthodox fast can particularly seem intimidating to many modern westerners) but recognize that no matter how little you might fast this Lent, God will be able to make much of it. Commit to what you can do consistently, however small.

         If you’re still having trouble figuring out exactly how you should fast this Lent, here are a few of my own personal parameters that I use to inspire my thoughts as I prepare for this holy season each year. First, no matter what you do, make sure you actually give up something food-related. Every time fasting is referenced in the Bible, and every time the Church Fathers or others within the Christian tradition refer to fasting, they absolutely mean a fast from food. We grow in faith and discipline by offering our small hungers to Jesus over these forty days. But, do not be tempted to treat Lent as a diet. This is not about losing weight or serving our own vanity, this is about entrusting ourselves to God.

Second, I have begun to find it imperative for my own spiritual growth to fast from at least one digital thing during Lent. Life just gets too noisy these days. We need quiet in order to allow ourselves to grow in peace. So give up social media (either one specific platform or all of them), videos, movies, podcasts, TV, or the news app on your phone. Find one thing that’s specifically addictive for you and go without it this Lent.

Finally, and maybe most importantly, be sure to fill the holes created by the absence of your comfort food or digital pacifiers by prayer and time with Jesus. The point of fasting from anything is to turn our base, earth-bound desires to the One who can actually provide us with real answers and true peace, so make sure you go to Him. Take time to read Scripture every day, read a devotional, pray a daily rosary or chaplet, spend time in front of the Blessed Sacrament, frequent daily Mass or another prayer service. The best possible preparation you can make for Easter is growing closer to Jesus through prayer every day preceding this most holy of feasts.

And one last perk to dedicating yourself to a true fast this Lent: it is only through fasting that you will come to know the deep joy that accompanies feasting. Just as it has been Church tradition to join ourselves with the suffering of Christ, and specifically focus on this aspect of our spirituality during the season of Lent, we are also called to unite our joy and happiness with Him in His Resurrection. We are all called to be made new and to be made whole by the power of Christ’s Resurrection. We enter most fully into the joy that accompanies this new life, given to us in Baptism, by joining Jesus on Calvary first. Often we want to skip the whole Calvary part and go straight for the fruits of the Resurrection, and as a result we find ourselves spiritually unprepared. As Christians, we can’t just say: “Well, Jesus did all that suffering for me, so I don’t need to worry about it. I’ll indulge in whatever I want because Jesus made up for it on the Cross.” To the contrary, we must join our Lord in the desert and on Calvary, take up our own daily cross and follow after Him. Fast this Lent. Give your whole body and soul to His care. Allow God’s overwhelming love and mercy to fill you to the brim. And then enter most fully into the life-changing events of the Resurrection.