Dear Theophilous,
Why is it on days that I’m fasting, all I can do is think
about food? It doesn’t help matters either when all the billboards are for
restaurants, all the TV commercials for fast-food, and my list of errands
includes a trip to the grocery store.
Despite all the temptation, I fast anyway.
Since Christ warns us about making a show of our fasting: 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, (Mt 6:16) whenever I fast, I’ll
quietly tell my wife and son, so that they will be respectful and
understanding, but I don’t go around with a sign around my neck that says: Do not feed the Catholic. Because of
this, there is usually some point in the day when I need to politely explain
that I’m fasting to someone’s generous insistence that I eat.
To the outsider, fasting can be one of the most perplexing
Catholic practices. Making the conscious decision to go without food,
especially in our consumption-geared society, seems to go against the natural
order. Although Catholics can, and will, fast for any number of reasons
throughout the year, this penitential practice comes to the fore yearly during
the season of Lent.
So this raises the question: Why do Catholics fast?
The short answer is to be Christ-like.
In everything we do, Christians are called to imitate
Christ. Whether it is to love our neighbours, our enemies, to pick up our
Cross, or to forgive others; we are asked to follow Christ’s lead, as difficult
and impossible as it might seem. Thus, during the 40 days of Lent, we are
called to mirror Christ’s 40 days in the desert, in fasting and prayer.
Then Jesus was lead by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the
devil. He fasted for 40 days and 40 nights, and afterwards he was hungry.
(Mt 4:11)
One would think that Catholics are being called to an
impossible task to be Christ-like during Lent, and to go 40 days without eating
anything (though I think I’ve built up enough reserve around my midriff that I
just might make it). Fortunately, the rules on fasting don’t go to quite this
extreme. Although the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops does not give
specific guidelines on fasting (calling for only a reduction in quantity and
richness of food eaten on their website), the general rule of thumb is one full meal per day,
with two smaller meals, which when combined, do not exceed amount the one full
meal. Really, this isn’t out of the ordinary for most of us. The part I have
the most difficulty with is the no snacking allowed!
So, outside of the imitation of Christ in the desert, one
must ask again: Why do Catholics fast?
Over the years, I have found the rationale for fasting to be
three-fold:
·
Penance
·
Prayer
·
Thanksgiving
Penance
Lent is a time of becoming attuned to our sinfulness so that
we can seek God’s forgiveness and mercy. Gluttony is a sin that I, like much of
our consumerist society, grapple with on a daily basis. It’s not that we aren’t
supposed to enjoy the delicious beauty of God’s creation, it’s just the copious
amounts in which we enjoy it. The hunger pangs I feel throughout the day,
especially at the times when I would normally reach for a (not-so) small snack,
remind me of my inclination to sin, and to call on the Holy Spirit to push
through the moment of minimal temptation.
Prayer
Prayer, fasting and almsgiving are the three pillars of
Lent, and all three are interdependent. Fasting calls us to a more attentive
prayer. When I fast before Mass or Adoration, I am reminded that Man
does not live by bread alone (Mt 4:4), and I hunger for the Lord in the
Eucharist. When I am fasting, and have gotten over the hurdle of fixating on
food, this leaves me more time and ability to concentrate on prayer. Finally,
as I move through the day and hunger strikes between meals, I use it as a
reminder to say a quick prayer: Jesus, I trust in you! or Have mercy on me, a sinner! or Lord,
I hunger for you! or There is no virtue without temptation!
(St. Augustine) or how ever the Holy Spirit moves me.
Thanksgiving
Let’s face it… Most of us living in Europe or North America
have never really known hunger. We may get hungry from time-to-time, but we
have never experienced what it is like to be truly hungry. A former student of
mine once went on a mission trip to Zimbabwe; he recounted how children would
walk for kilometers for the chance at their only meal for the day - a bowl of
porridge, and if there wasn’t enough to go around, those at the end of the line
would shrug their shoulders and walk home, only to return the next day in hopes
of getting there in time for something to eat. Missing your one meal a day…
this is true hunger. In the grand scheme of things, two small meals and one
regular sized meal is no great sacrifice. Those little hunger pangs I feel
throughout the day are a reminder of the truly blessed life I lead, and that I
need to do more to help those who are less fortunate.
Catholics are called to truly fast only 2 days a year: Ash
Wednesday and Good Friday. Traditionally, Catholics have practiced fasting and
abstinence (not eating meat) on Fridays throughout Lent, and for many, this is
a practice on Fridays throughout the rest of the year. If we were to go back to
the Early Church, in the formative years of the Church Fathers, the practice
was to fast on both Wednesdays (when Judas took it into his heart to betray
Jesus) and Fridays (when Jesus died on the Cross).
No matter if one choses to fast on only the two required
days, during Lent, throughout the year, or even to add days of fasting and
abstinence for various reasons. We need to remember that fasting is not simply
a Catholic weight loss program, but a sacred practice calling us to penance,
prayer and thanksgiving.
