Is 58:1-10

17 September 2006

“Fasting Isn’t Fast”

            I recently saw a report on the news indicating that now, apparently for the first time in human history, there are more obese people on the planet than there are those who are malnourished.  No doubt, McDonald’s, Burger King, KFC, and their ilk bear their share of the blame.  Ironically, the network that ran the news story has almost no commercials for food like broccoli or grapefruit.  (You know, healthy stuff!)  Instead they give us this message regarding Cheez-It:  “Get your own box.”  Of course, there’s plenty of culpability to spread around!

I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly gluttonous sort of person.  Still, if I had to name a single spiritual discipline that I’m most reluctant to follow, it would probably be fasting.  At first glance, considering the report I just mentioned, it seems that I’m far from alone.  As I continue through my sermon, I’ll show how fasting is much more than abstaining from food.  It will become clear that I am definitely not alone.

I find that when I’m fasting, a curious thing happens.  My brain starts overreacting with thoughts about food.  Of course, one of the points about fasting is to pray during the times you’d normally be eating.  Fasting also helps strengthen one’s self-discipline, one’s self-control.

I think many of us have almost a fear of fasting.  A couple of weeks ago, I had to skip breakfast.  I had to go to the clinic to have my blood drawn for testing to see if my medicine was at a therapeutic level.  So that required fasting after midnight.  The next morning, some of the people were saying how they try to get there at 8:30, as soon as the place opens, so that afterwards they can get something to eat.  Apparently, they are starving to death!

I don’t want to spend too long on the mechanics of fasting.  Suffice it to say that it doesn’t always mean consuming nothing whatsoever—or just consuming water.  If you haven’t fasted for a long time, it’s probably wise to only skip one or two meals.  Drinking juice or milk might be advisable, especially if you’re on medication.  (Unless, of course, you’re getting your blood drawn!)

In any event, fasting as a spiritual discipline isn’t the same thing as, say, a hunger strike.  (Though there may be spiritual motivations for such a refusal to eat.)  And you don’t do it to lose weight, although as I’m struggling to stay under 220 pounds, it is a nice fringe benefit!

In her Spiritual Disciplines Handbook, Adele Ahlberg Calhoun says the purpose of fasting is “to let go of an appetite in order to seek God on matters of deep concern for others, myself, and the world.”[1]  Clearly, “an appetite” can refer to many different things.  As Paul says in Romans 13:14, we’re to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ [like a garment], and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.”

Just what does that mean?  Is Paul saying that we shouldn’t do anything that our physical nature desires?  If so, then he’s really not taking a Christian viewpoint.  God has chosen to be revealed in the flesh, as Jesus.  God’s revelation isn’t limited to the spiritual level, like an angel.  The body is not evil.  When Paul speaks of “the flesh,” he speaks of our sinful lower nature—our basest qualities.

I once felt like I needed to fast from listening to music, especially rock music.  It was becoming my god.  Does that mean that music is evil?  If so, then Psalm 150 has it all wrong.  It calls us to praise the Lord with stuff like “trumpet” and “strings” and “cymbals” (vv. 3-5).  Like so much else in life, music is detrimental only if it’s taken to excess.

One of those desires of “the flesh” Paul speaks of is pride, status seeking.  Jesus warns us in Matthew 6, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven” (v. 1).  That obviously includes fasting.  To put on a show provides no spiritual benefit.

And that note about putting “oil on your head” doesn’t mean to drench yourself with a pail of olive oil (v. 17).  That would certainly make you stand out in the crowd!  No, what’s meant is scented oil.  You’re to use fragrance—try to look your best—while fasting.  Only God needs to know what you’re doing; it isn’t a moment for celebrity.

Sometimes our motives are a little better than that.  Sometimes letting other people know that we’re fasting would never enter our mind.  Instead, we’re looking for a jump start in spiritual growth.  Perhaps we have some decisions to make, and we want God’s guidance…and we want it right now!  Maybe you’ve heard the prayer, “Lord, grant me patience—but make it quick!”

What I’m saying is this:  fasting isn’t fast.  We can’t compel God to do anything.  There aren’t any short cuts in the spiritual life.  Still, God can always surprise us; in fact, God has surprises in store for us all the time.  But we shouldn’t expect fasting to twist God’s arm, so to speak, into providing what we want.

Our scripture reading in Isaiah 58 deals with something related to this very thing.  First, a little background on what we’re reading.  This last part of the book of Isaiah is often dated a few years after the return from exile in Babylon.  The initial joy of the exiles has faded as they deal with opposition.  They’re confronted by those who were never sent into exile—and by those who have settled in the land since then.

Their faith is faltering.  And as we look through the scripture text, we can see evidence of the ways in which many of them have stumbled.  We can also see evidence of their attempts to make things right.

Right off the bat, we know something’s up.  The prophet is told, “Shout out, do not hold back!…Announce to my people their rebellion” (v. 1).  Apparently, they’re not living in a way that befits God’s people, even though “day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness” (v. 2).

I guess it’s not enough to “seek” God and to “delight” in God’s ways—unless we plan to actually practice all that stuff!  You know, we live in a country that prides itself on its righteous ways.  We could learn some lessons from our brothers and sisters in other parts of the world.

The people in our scripture reading say some things to God that may sound familiar.  “Why do we fast, but you do not see?  Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” (v. 3).  Where are you, God?  Why aren’t you paying attention?  Why don’t you help us?

Can anybody tell me what’s wrong with this picture?  Could it be what I said earlier, that “fasting isn’t fast”?  That they’re trying to compel God to act?

But there’s something else wrong, and it’s more fundamental.  The people are behaving as though fasting and other pious actions can compensate for injustice.  They think some acts of worship can cover up their crimes.

What have they been doing that’s so bad?  According to the scripture, “you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers.  Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist.  Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high” (vv. 3-4).  Apparently, the people are just going through the motions.  They’re not letting themselves be changed.  In a way, they’re trying to bribe God.

Here’s the fast that God chooses:  “to loose the bonds of injustice…to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke” (v. 6).  Verse 9 has something I find especially interesting.  What’s disapproved of here is “the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil.”

“The pointing of the finger.”  We see this all the time today.  We like to blame others; we try to avoid taking responsibility.  It becomes especially obvious the closer we get to Election Day.  Political ads flood the airwaves:  ads which insult our intelligence—and present the opposing candidate in the worst possible light.

I mean that literally.  You might hear a voiceover saying something like this:  “Unemployment is on the rise, but fat cat Joe Blow doesn’t care!”  Meanwhile, the opponent is presented in a black and white still photograph, or worse, moving in slow motion—again, usually in black and white.  That’s a neat trick.  You can make anyone look bad by showing them in slow motion.

Unfortunately, “the pointing of the finger” isn’t restricted to the political realm.  It is alive and well in the church.

            “Fasting is an opportunity to lay down an appetite,” Calhoun says, “an appetite for food, for media, for shopping.  This act of self-denial may not seem huge—it’s just a meal or a trip to the mall—but it brings us face to face with the hunger at the core of our being.  Fasting exposes how we try to keep empty hunger at bay and gain a sense of well-being by devouring creature comforts.  Through self-denial we begin to recognize what controls us.  Our small denials of the self show us just how little taste we actually have for sacrifice or time with God.”[2]

            I said earlier that I think many of us have a fear of fasting.  When we include these other appetites, it’s probably safe to say that we have a terror of fasting.  Americans in particular are afflicted with this terror.  Our entire civilization seems designed to keep us distracted.  And we in the church get sucked right into it.

            Calhoun continues, “Skip the radio or TV for a day and become aware of how fidgety you are when you aren’t being amused or diverted.  Then dodge the remote, and embrace Jesus and his words ‘my food is to do the will of him who sent me’ (John 4:34).  Taste the difference between what truly nourishes the soul—the living bread—and what is simply junk food.”[3]

            Think of how much money we waste on junk.  How much do we spend on coffee and soda?  How much do we spend at the mall or at the big box stores?  But this isn’t even just about money.  I would love to see verse 10 come true!  “If you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.”

            As I’ve done before, I want to leave you with a couple of questions from Calhoun’s book.  “When you feel empty or restless, what do you do to try to fill the emptiness?  What does this tell you about your heart?”[4]

            If anyone will say, “I never feel empty,” my reply is this:  you’re either lying or you’re horribly self-deceived.  The feeling of emptiness is part of the human condition.  The question is being aware of it and knowing where to turn.  We try to fill our emptiness with all kinds of created things, like food and drink and stuff to buy and who knows what.

            But when we fast from our appetites, we say to them, “I don’t need you!  I can do better!”  We begin to set ourselves free from our own chains, and we’re better able to help free others from their chains.

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