Jane's Sept. 6 sermon on fasting

Matthew 6:16-18
16 ‘And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 17But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, 18so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.*

I don’t know if you caught it or not, but in these words of Jesus that we just heard, the one little word that catches me up is his use of the word ‘when.’ Jesus says “WHEN you fast . . .” Not “IF you fast . . .” but WHEN.

I feel a little, shall we say ‘disingenuous’ today as I plan to talk to you about fasting—a spiritual practice that I, admittedly, have only even tried a few times. (And, fasting before a blood test doesn’t really count.)

I should, I suppose, be embarrassed to even admit that I have tried this so little. It is, after all, one of the most common of biblical spiritual practices. Fasting is right up there with giving and praying. In fact, in his sermon on the mount, that’s right where Jesus places it: right after talking about giving and praying—Jesus talks about fasting.

But, for some reason—or many—I find myself avoiding this practice. Even, I’ll admit, avoiding writing a sermon about it—found myself instead, interestingly, going to the farmer’s market, having a second breakfast, eating one more Popsicle.

I know that I am not the only person here who has avoided this particular spiritual discipline. Reasons abound: some of which are legitimate, I might add. If you have any sort of eating disorder or heart condition or diabetes, or are pregnant, you don’t have any business practicing a full fast from food. But, for the rest of us, maybe it is worth considering—and at least trying.

Which many of you, I know, do. Several of you responded to the Presbyterian Church’s call last year to regular monthly fasts in solidarity with hunger issues. You have joined others on the first weekend of each month—like this one—to fast and to be in prayer, specifically for the world’s hungry.

But, many of us still need a bit more nudge to participate, practice ourselves. Or at least try it. And our Guatemalan partners have given us that nudge, that invitation. Last spring, six of us were sitting around along table in a simple, concrete block sanctuary on the outskirts of El Estor, Guatemala. We were talking with leaders of the Estoreno presbytery about the nature of a partnership between their presbytery and our church.

I think these new friends were pretty clear what we brought to them: Our presence for one thing. There we were—we could afford to travel there. And they like that—really appreciate our being there as their extremely gracious hospitality showed. They are also aware that we have resources—financial, skills, knowledge even—that we bring to the table so to speak.

I think they weren’t so sure about what they had to offer us in this two-way partnership. But we knew. It doesn’t take long, being around these folks before you get the sense that they live trusting Something bigger than what’s around them—because what’s around them is so obviously limited. Their faith is real—along with a great desire to share it—something else we can learn. And it is obvious that a rich prayer life is feeding all of that. So, prayer became an important thing that we put into our partnership agreement. Praying regularly for one another is at the top of the list of how we are in partnership together. It’s why every Sunday we pray for another of the churches in Estoreno presbytery. That’s also why you all awhile back were invited to take a photograph of someone from Guatemala and let that be a reminder to pray for them. (I think there are still photos in the back if you don’t have one yet.) And, I am confident that they in turn are holding us up in prayer as well.

The commitment to prayer isn’t a huge stretch for us as a congregation because we too value and practice prayer ourselves regularly. But, there still seems to be something else our Guatemalan sisters and brothers ‘have’ on us in this regard. Sheets of paper on the walls of every church we visited offer a clue to what that is. Those papers are announcements and sign ups for prayer vigils and fasts. There might be one coming up specifically about the women’s ministry, or for the youth group, or in regards to the new church they want to start in the next town. Or for the upcoming presbytery planning meeting. Especially at times when they are seeking God’s guidance.

Prayer vigils—with accompanying fasting—are obviously a practice for these friends. A biblical spiritual practice that they take seriously—and engage in regularly—seeking not just God’s guidance, but also seeking God. And, that day around the table, the six of us who were there on your behalf, took that as a challenge for us—but not just a challenge—we also received it as one of the gifts these partners have to offer us. And so we committed that day to a prayer vigil and fast on their behalf, to coincide with their presbytery meeting this month—the weekend of the 18th and 19th.

So, you see why I felt I needed to preach about this. I’m helping prepare myself—as well as you—for that weekend.

Another thing that is interesting in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is that after talking about fasting, Jesus goes on to talk about things that get in the way of trusting God: earthly treasures, trying to serve both God and wealth; excessive worrying, judging others, profaning the holy.

Hmmm, maybe this part of his sermon points to why fasting is important—or maybe he’s suggesting some of what we could fast from: earthly treasures, other masters, worry, judging, disrespect, profaning the holy.

There are things—plenty of things—besides food that we can fast from. In a chapter on Fasting, Marjorie Thompson suggests we ask ourselves: “What is consuming me? Possessing me? What do I do to excess?” (Marjorie Thompson, Soul Feast, Westminster John Knox Press, July 1995.

Whatever that is, chances are that it is getting in the way of a relationship of trust with the Living God. And there might be real spiritual value in refraining for a time from using or doing those things that has control over you. That could be anything: information, the internet, catalogs or shopping malls, work, gadgets, television, video games, noise, frenetic activity, a packed calendar, personal opinions, fast food. We live in a culture that is “obsessed with consumption, where affluence and addictions are prevalent.” It really doesn’t take much of a leap to figure out how fasting might be a helpful discipline. Especially when it is “considered in terms of its inner dynamic—abstinence.” (Marjorie Thompson)

There are, for each of us, very particular things or habits that it would help for us to abstain from—which might provide a bit more room for God to slip in. I encourage you to really consider what those things might be.

But, our Guatemalan partners are inviting us to partner with them in the physical abstinence from food. Jesus said that “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes out of the mouth of God.” As someone else has said, it’s hard, maybe even impossible, to learn that truth “between fistfuls and mouthfuls of food.” (Mark Buchanan, Christian Century)

There really is something about eating nothing—or at least eating less—that makes one pay attention to what one IS eating. And why. Ya begin to realize how much—and how often—you eat—when you don’t even really need to. Surrounded as we are by an abundance of abundance, we often indulge simply because we can. Not because we need something or even maybe desire it. But simply because it’s thee. We’re used to having what we want. Thinking we deserve it even. Or, maybe worse, not even thinking about it. Like Jesus in the wilderness we are often tempted to serve other gods . . .like the gods of abundance and gratifications.

I read once that someone will feel hunger pains or discomfort after just a few hours of fasting, but that is not real hunger. Our stomachs have been trained through years of conditioning to give signals of hunger at certain hours. “In many ways the stomach is like a spoiled child,” Richard Foster wrote in his Classic Celebration of Discipline, “and spoiled children do not need indulgence, they need discipline.” (Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline, HarperCollins Publishers, December 2002)

Fasting is one form of spiritual discipline. And it’s a form that really gets at something—maybe because it forms an actual, physical emptiness—and that emptiness can make us more aware of what we mindlessly try to fill ourselves with.

This is very related to what has traditionally been one of the main purposes of fasting: for confession and repentance. A way of discovering—uncovering really—what is in our hearts. It’s like what happens in a bowl of water that is left out. After the water evaporates, a residue of some kind is usually left in the bowl.

One of the results of a fast is often the exposure of the residue of ‘stuff’—maybe anger, resentment, greed, jealousy, fear. Stuff we can and do cover up with food, drink, activity, possessions.

And accompanying this is a heightened sense of justice; the awareness that most people of the world, like our Guatemalan friends, do not live with so much. So a few hunger pangs (even false ones) can become reminders to pray for people who actually do know what hunger is. This is why fasting is not just a discipline for personal spiritual transformation—but, like most true spiritual practices, has a social dimension of transformation as well.

It was the intentional that the Presbyterian Hunger program chose the first weekend of each month to encourage people to fast together. That is because many churches, like ours, celebrate communion on the first weekend of the month. This means that people can break fast with this holy—and communal—meal. Just imagine how this simple meal tastes to those who haven’t eaten much if anything for the past two days.

If your heart and mind and body are not stuffed, if your taste buds not numbed, then just a little morsel of bread or a tiny taste of juice has a chance of being savored. Noticed. Of being holy. God has a chance of being noticed.

Our Guatemalan friends know this—and they are inviting us to discover it too. Maybe you will want to join other Presbyterians around the country in a monthly fast, but I at least challenge you to start with a few hours on September 19.

It’s our invitation into a deeper relationship of trust with the God who loves us.

Because only when we have been made empty can we truly be filled by the presence and love of God.