Over the past few weeks at my church, All Saints, we’ve been talking about training and spiritual formation – the kind of thing that happens not just by learning stuff, but practicing stuff. What it means to be formed in the way of Christ.
One of the ways we are formed in the way of Christ is fasting.
I can imagine your internal reaction when you hear that word – it’s probably not an enthusiastic “yay, I love fasting”!
Fasting is the practice of giving up something we normally consume to focus on God.
It’s splashed all throughout Scripture. Moses fasted. David fasted. Elijah, Esther, Daniel and Anna fasted. Jesus and Paul fasted.
We read about the early church in Acts 13:
While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” So after they had fasted and prayed, they placed their hands on them and sent them off.
So we know that fasting was central to the life of the early church. And we know that fasting was central in Jesus’ life – he began his ministry with 40 days of fasting. And he teaches on it:
When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. (Matthew 6)
He says when you fast, not if, as if there’s an implicit understanding that fasting is part of what it is to be a follower of Jesus.
Fasting isn’t just found in Scripture. We also see it throughout church history as one of the key spiritual practices or disciplines of the church. According to John Mark Comer:
Fasting is one of the most essential and powerful of all of the practices of Jesus and arguably, the single most neglected in the modern western church. Fasting truly is a lost discipline whose time has come.1
Often we are formed by the world around us – our upbringing, who we are surrounded by, what we absorb. Fasting is a counter formational practice, choosing to give up what we would normally consume, how we would normally live, to focus on God.
We live in a prevailing culture of comfort and convenience. Richard Foster, in his book Celebration of Discipline, says:
In a culture where the landscape is dotted with shrines to the golden arches and an assortment of pizza temples, fasting seems out of place, out of step with the times.2
Fasting is radically counter cultural because it runs contrary to the western dream of consumerism, consumption and comfort.
We also live in a world that is busy. When I think about fasting, my first thought is when can I fit it in? Busyness is like one of the gods of the age.
Do we want to be formed by a culture that says we should be busy? Or do we want a counter formational practice that pushes against that, one that lets us be still with God? If busyness is stopping us forming growing, maybe it needs challenging.
What is forming us, or what are we allowing to form us?
We might also avoid fasting to avoid legalism. I think, quite understandably, many people have rejected fasting because it seems like legalism – “you must do this”, “you should do this”. Counsellor and speaker Richard Black says that Christians are terrible at “shoulding” all over themselves.
I get it. It's easy to be overly critical of ourselves when we're trying to fast. When I’m working hard to give something up for Lent, sometimes my immediate reaction to slipping up is to turn on myself, annoyed and disappointed. And so fasting can feel like we’re just adding another burden onto our already heavy load of expectations. To avoid legalism, we avoid fasting all together.
But that keeps us from these practices that can shape us towards life. Let’s not let this avoidance stop us from going deeper, from rediscovering ancient practices that lead us towards God.
Fasting is an invitation. It’s not something we observe or do out of duty or obligation, it’s something we do in response to what we see Jesus do, out of a desire for a deeper and purer life with God. It’s a gift, not a curse.
Another reason we might neglect fasting is we often have quite a low view of the body. We tend to be stuck in our heads.
We are whole human beings. Fasting reminds us that we have a body! And that we do not just engage with God through our minds, through rational thought, but with our whole selves.
And one other reason fasting is neglected in the church… Because it’s hard!
It’s uncomfortable. I don’t know about you, but I get hangry if I go without food. Does that mean I shouldn’t? It probably means I should.
Fasting is hard. But it’s good. It leads us deeper.
John Mark Comer has a helpful list3 about what fasting is for.
Fasting is for:
Ben Sternke has another couple of good lists.4
Christian fasting is not:
Christian fasting is:
Let’s get into the nuts and bolts of it.
We could fast from foods associated with “feasting” – like chocolate, desserts, caffeine, alcohol or sugar.
We could fast from media or entertainment. Phones, TV, streaming services, music, social media, video games.
We could fast from habits and comforts, like online shopping or consuming news. Even something like looking in the mirror.
The discipline of fasting can be an individual practice or a corporate endeavour. When fasting with other people, you can support each other and keep one another accountable.
Fasting can help us to be aware – aware of God’s presence, aware of others’ needs. It’s not something done instead of mission, evangelism, work of justice and social action. It’s often the catalyst for those things to happen. It can sharpen our calling towards them.
In his book, The Common Rule, Justin Whitmel Earley says:
When I fast I see that deep down I'm not actually a very patient person after all. I'm not actually a very content person after all. I'm not as independent and strong as I thought I was. I'm a weak, impatient, angry person who medicates with food and drink. This is painful to confront. Yet to live without fasting is to live without knowing who I truly am.5
I must admit, I haven’t fasted for quite a long time. I think it’s important for me to say that with integrity. But I’m being called back to it.
I’ve had seasons in my life and ministry when I’ve fasted every week, and I’ve experienced a depth and intimacy that I hadn’t experienced before.
When we fast, sometimes we see breakthrough, or experience great intimacy, or even see miracles.
Sometimes we don’t.
Sometimes we just feel a bit hangry or get a headache.
John Mark Comer suggests a prayer for when hunger pangs come: “God, I offer my body to you in worship, please transform me.”
At Convergence Camp earlier this month, speaker Sam Harvey used a wonderful expression of going “up a click”. Imagine turning a dial slightly, one click up. It’s the idea of just going a little deeper, a little further.
If you want to give fasting a go for the first time, you might want to start small. If you have medical issues that might affect your capacity to fast, chat with your doctor before trying it. And if you’re busy, go easy on yourself. Fast on a day that’s less busy, if you can.
There are three things that I think are really important for putting wheels on this.
Intention
It’s good to first discern what kind of fast to do, when we’ll do it, and why. If we can’t fast with intention – if we fast because you feel like we should, it’s probably best that we don’t fast at all.
Accountability
If we tell at least one other person, they can keep us accountable and check how we’re going. We might want to think of someone to draw in for encouragement before we start fasting.
Focus to replace
If we want to embrace fasting as a spiritual practice, it’s important that we think about what we replace the time we gain by fasting with. If we’re giving up a lunch, what are we replacing it with? It could be a prayer walk or time in the Word.
The practice of disciplines is a pathway to freedom rather than a means of enslavement.
If fasting sounds like enslavement to you, I’d ask you to perhaps reflect on that. There may be a good reason, but is it stopping you from embracing a practice that’s going to lead you to freedom?
We’re called to have a firsthand spirituality. We have access to a huge range of amazing Christian teaching and information – things like podcasts, books and videos. It’s wonderful reading about other people’s experiences and depth of relationship, but it’s secondhand. Reading about someones faith is not the same as experiencing it.
Firsthand spirituality comes from relationship with Christ. To be transformed by him, made into his likeness and experience conviction and calling. Let’s not settle for secondhand spirituality, but find practices that shape us and grow us into his image.
1John Mark Comer, Instagram reel, April 2023.
2Richard J. Foster, Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, 1978.
3John Mark Comer, Fasting, Practicing the Way, practicingtheway.org/fasting.
4Ben Sternke, How To Fast For Lent: A Practical Guide, Gravity Commons, gravitycommons.com/how-to-fast-for-lent.
5Justin Whitmel Earley, The Common Rule: Habits of Purpose for an Age of Distraction, 2019.
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
We have invited these writers to share their experiences, ideas and opinions in the hope that these will provoke thought, challenge you to go deeper and inspire you to put your faith into action. These articles should not be taken as the official view of the Nelson Diocese on any particular matter.
Over the past few weeks at my church, All Saints, we’ve been talking about training and spiritual formation – the kind of thing that happens not just by learning stuff, but practicing stuff. What it means to be formed in the way of Christ.
One of the ways we are formed in the way of Christ is fasting.
I can imagine your internal reaction when you hear that word – it’s probably not an enthusiastic “yay, I love fasting”!
Fasting is the practice of giving up something we normally consume to focus on God.
It’s splashed all throughout Scripture. Moses fasted. David fasted. Elijah, Esther, Daniel and Anna fasted. Jesus and Paul fasted.
We read about the early church in Acts 13:
While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” So after they had fasted and prayed, they placed their hands on them and sent them off.
So we know that fasting was central to the life of the early church. And we know that fasting was central in Jesus’ life – he began his ministry with 40 days of fasting. And he teaches on it:
When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. (Matthew 6)
He says when you fast, not if, as if there’s an implicit understanding that fasting is part of what it is to be a follower of Jesus.
Fasting isn’t just found in Scripture. We also see it throughout church history as one of the key spiritual practices or disciplines of the church. According to John Mark Comer:
Fasting is one of the most essential and powerful of all of the practices of Jesus and arguably, the single most neglected in the modern western church. Fasting truly is a lost discipline whose time has come.1
Often we are formed by the world around us – our upbringing, who we are surrounded by, what we absorb. Fasting is a counter formational practice, choosing to give up what we would normally consume, how we would normally live, to focus on God.
We live in a prevailing culture of comfort and convenience. Richard Foster, in his book Celebration of Discipline, says:
In a culture where the landscape is dotted with shrines to the golden arches and an assortment of pizza temples, fasting seems out of place, out of step with the times.2
Fasting is radically counter cultural because it runs contrary to the western dream of consumerism, consumption and comfort.
We also live in a world that is busy. When I think about fasting, my first thought is when can I fit it in? Busyness is like one of the gods of the age.
Do we want to be formed by a culture that says we should be busy? Or do we want a counter formational practice that pushes against that, one that lets us be still with God? If busyness is stopping us forming growing, maybe it needs challenging.
What is forming us, or what are we allowing to form us?
We might also avoid fasting to avoid legalism. I think, quite understandably, many people have rejected fasting because it seems like legalism – “you must do this”, “you should do this”. Counsellor and speaker Richard Black says that Christians are terrible at “shoulding” all over themselves.
I get it. It's easy to be overly critical of ourselves when we're trying to fast. When I’m working hard to give something up for Lent, sometimes my immediate reaction to slipping up is to turn on myself, annoyed and disappointed. And so fasting can feel like we’re just adding another burden onto our already heavy load of expectations. To avoid legalism, we avoid fasting all together.
But that keeps us from these practices that can shape us towards life. Let’s not let this avoidance stop us from going deeper, from rediscovering ancient practices that lead us towards God.
Fasting is an invitation. It’s not something we observe or do out of duty or obligation, it’s something we do in response to what we see Jesus do, out of a desire for a deeper and purer life with God. It’s a gift, not a curse.
Another reason we might neglect fasting is we often have quite a low view of the body. We tend to be stuck in our heads.
We are whole human beings. Fasting reminds us that we have a body! And that we do not just engage with God through our minds, through rational thought, but with our whole selves.
And one other reason fasting is neglected in the church… Because it’s hard!
It’s uncomfortable. I don’t know about you, but I get hangry if I go without food. Does that mean I shouldn’t? It probably means I should.
Fasting is hard. But it’s good. It leads us deeper.
John Mark Comer has a helpful list3 about what fasting is for.
Fasting is for:
Ben Sternke has another couple of good lists.4
Christian fasting is not:
Christian fasting is:
Let’s get into the nuts and bolts of it.
We could fast from foods associated with “feasting” – like chocolate, desserts, caffeine, alcohol or sugar.
We could fast from media or entertainment. Phones, TV, streaming services, music, social media, video games.
We could fast from habits and comforts, like online shopping or consuming news. Even something like looking in the mirror.
The discipline of fasting can be an individual practice or a corporate endeavour. When fasting with other people, you can support each other and keep one another accountable.
Fasting can help us to be aware – aware of God’s presence, aware of others’ needs. It’s not something done instead of mission, evangelism, work of justice and social action. It’s often the catalyst for those things to happen. It can sharpen our calling towards them.
In his book, The Common Rule, Justin Whitmel Earley says:
When I fast I see that deep down I'm not actually a very patient person after all. I'm not actually a very content person after all. I'm not as independent and strong as I thought I was. I'm a weak, impatient, angry person who medicates with food and drink. This is painful to confront. Yet to live without fasting is to live without knowing who I truly am.5
I must admit, I haven’t fasted for quite a long time. I think it’s important for me to say that with integrity. But I’m being called back to it.
I’ve had seasons in my life and ministry when I’ve fasted every week, and I’ve experienced a depth and intimacy that I hadn’t experienced before.
When we fast, sometimes we see breakthrough, or experience great intimacy, or even see miracles.
Sometimes we don’t.
Sometimes we just feel a bit hangry or get a headache.
John Mark Comer suggests a prayer for when hunger pangs come: “God, I offer my body to you in worship, please transform me.”
At Convergence Camp earlier this month, speaker Sam Harvey used a wonderful expression of going “up a click”. Imagine turning a dial slightly, one click up. It’s the idea of just going a little deeper, a little further.
If you want to give fasting a go for the first time, you might want to start small. If you have medical issues that might affect your capacity to fast, chat with your doctor before trying it. And if you’re busy, go easy on yourself. Fast on a day that’s less busy, if you can.
There are three things that I think are really important for putting wheels on this.
Intention
It’s good to first discern what kind of fast to do, when we’ll do it, and why. If we can’t fast with intention – if we fast because you feel like we should, it’s probably best that we don’t fast at all.
Accountability
If we tell at least one other person, they can keep us accountable and check how we’re going. We might want to think of someone to draw in for encouragement before we start fasting.
Focus to replace
If we want to embrace fasting as a spiritual practice, it’s important that we think about what we replace the time we gain by fasting with. If we’re giving up a lunch, what are we replacing it with? It could be a prayer walk or time in the Word.
The practice of disciplines is a pathway to freedom rather than a means of enslavement.
If fasting sounds like enslavement to you, I’d ask you to perhaps reflect on that. There may be a good reason, but is it stopping you from embracing a practice that’s going to lead you to freedom?
We’re called to have a firsthand spirituality. We have access to a huge range of amazing Christian teaching and information – things like podcasts, books and videos. It’s wonderful reading about other people’s experiences and depth of relationship, but it’s secondhand. Reading about someones faith is not the same as experiencing it.
Firsthand spirituality comes from relationship with Christ. To be transformed by him, made into his likeness and experience conviction and calling. Let’s not settle for secondhand spirituality, but find practices that shape us and grow us into his image.
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
