Day 25: Fasting in the Bible–Not a Way to Twist God's Arm

One pendulum that has swung in Christian teaching over our lifetimes is the amount of things people teach and write about fasting. In the first helpful thing I ever read on fasting, Richard Foster's chapter on this practice in Celebration of Discipline, he noted, "in my research I could not find a single book published on the subject of Christian fasting from 1861 to 1954, a period of nearly 100 years." Today, in contrast, I just did a quick search online which turned up 157 current Christian books with fasting as their subject! In scanning through the list, I only see three of them that I have read, and honestly–I have no desire to ever read a good portion of them. While I'll give the authors the benefit of the doubt and assume they say some good things, just judging by the titles, there are many which I think don't reflect what fasting was in the Bible. To illustrate, just from the titles of books on this list, these are things which we are led to believe can/should come if we practice fasting:

• power
• miracles
• breakthroughs of different kinds (spiritual, emotional, physical, and–of course–even financial)
• health, energy and longer life
• better preaching
• revival
• and the one that takes the prize, from one of the book descriptions: "achieving your dreams at 'break neck' speed"

It seems like we've turned this biblical practice into a way of twisting God’s arm into giving us something that, by our fasting, we are showing him that we really, really want. It's kind of like our spiritualized adult version of a toddler’s attempts at manipulating their parents by throwing a temper tantrum. "God, I really want this, and I'm going to prove it to you by going without food for a while."

Author Scot McKnight has written a fantastic book (simply titled Fasting) which provides a much-needed corrective, focusing on what fasting was in the Bible. (If you'd like to read my review of his book, click here.) From the book’s introduction to conclusion, he directly addresses this misconception of fasting and continually reiterates that in the Scriptures, fasting is our appropriate response to God, and/or to some part of life, not “a manipulative tool that guarantees results.”

So instead of fasting for something, biblically, we are given the model of fasting as a response. There are times in life when filling our mouths is out of line and fasting is the natural, appropriate way of us expressing our reaction in a whole-person kind of way by including our bodies in the response. For example, perhaps we lose a loved one and we fast as a way of grieving (2 Samuel 1:1-12). Or, at times we certainly have a profound need to plead before God on behalf of others (Deuteronomy 9:15-21). We may become more deeply aware of those suffering in poverty or injustice (Isaiah 58:3-12). Certainly there will be times when we are overcome by our need for repentance (1 Samuel 7:3-6). And Lent is–in part–a continuation of the ancient Jewish practice of regularly observing days when a particular response to God is appropriate (Leviticus 16:29-30).

If our understanding of what fasting is has drifted this far from what it was in the Bible, it shouldn't be any surprise to us that we have more trouble with Jesus saying "when you fast..." than we do with him saying "when you give..." or "when you pray...." Part of our problem, which McKnight addresses so well in his book and as I've hinted at in previous posts, is that we have come to view our bodies as having little or no roles in our "spiritual" lives. Many of us even think of our bodies as being opposed to living the kind lives that God wants. It's true that our bodies need to be trained, like every other part of us, but they are given to us as allies–or, as Dallas Willard says, our "power packs"–for living life with God.

Fasting is one of the primary practices that can help us to restore the body to its proper place in our efforts to live this embodied life in God's kingdom. Now that we are more than halfway through Lent, I don't expect that any readers will decide to pick up fasting as a Lenten discipline now if we hadn't already done so. But if there is any way in which fasting is beginning to seem inviting to you, we have a day coming which is as appropriate as any to find ways to deny ourselves through fasting: Good Friday. Perhaps you'll want to pause now and prayerfully think about how you will observe that day this year.

A Prayer for the Day:

Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought us in safety to this new day: Preserve us with your mighty power, that we may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all we do, direct us to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

Click here for this week's scripture readings.

*From The Book of Common Prayer

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]

Day 24: Why Your Spiritual Practices Might Be Wearing You Out

In my life, from the time I was a child, I have been extremely privileged to be around devout Christians who have modeled life with God for me very well. At every stage of my life, I've had people who have encouraged me and invited me deeper into the kind of life in God's kingdom. When I was old enough to begin taking some responsibility for the quality of my own life with God, I began trying to do the things that we're taught to do as Christians–things like prayer, reading my Bible, and worship. Though it didn't take much experience with those practices to know that they could be beneficial, for years–probably even decades–I found that my motivation to do them was very inconsistent. It would wax and wane, as I would be dedicated for a while, then get tired and hardly practice anything. Then the cycle would repeat itself.

I didn't understand why that happened. I thought, "Perhaps I just wasn't as committed to God as I hoped. I really need to be serious next time. (But maybe not just yet)." Then I heard one of my heroes, Dallas Willard, say something which made it click for me. It took the pressure off, and has helped me tremendously in arranging my life around my desire for God in the years since. Before telling you what Dallas' statement was, I need to set up its context.

Most of the things you and I have usually been taught are important practices in the lives of people who are seeking the kingdom of God are "doing" things. Practices like those I mentioned above–prayer, Bible study, and worship, as well as others such as service and fellowship–are all things we do, or we could say more accurately, they are practices that require our engagement. For those decades of my life before I heard Dallas' statement, 90-100% of my spiritual practices were in this category. I read my Bible, prayed, worshipped, served others, met with groups, and generally gave myself a very full plate of Christian activity. Though these things were good, I did them to the point where I had no energy left for them. I came to resent (at times) meeting with groups rather than doing the other things I thought I really wanted to be doing. My interest in and energy for prayer, reading the scriptures, and worship were like a roller coaster.

Back to Dallas' statement. He said that to have only disciplines of engagement without also having disciplines of abstinence is a recipe for burnout.

Though it may not appear to be so on first glance, it's a brilliant observation. I had a cycle of wearing myself out with spiritual practices, because they were all of the "doing things" type–disciplines of engagement, and I had nothing virtually nothing in my life with God that was a practice of "not doing"–a discipline of abstinence.

So what are the disciplines of abstinence, the things that we intentionally not do, for the sake of opening ourselves to God's work? Every person's list may be different, but things like sleep, sabbath, and simple living will be important, refreshing practices for most of us. And the church has held on to three other practices through the centuries that fall into this category, because they are so consistently effective at helping us become more open to God: solitude, silence, and fasting.

Since Jesus' statement, "When you fast...," is our focus for this week, and since in yesterday's post I talked about how much it makes us uncomfortable, perhaps it can help us let our defenses down before looking at the practice the rest of the week to look at it in this context. As one of the central practices of abstinence for us, part of its role is to refresh us and help us to rest. It's a practice which, though uncomfortable, is an invitation to us rather than a demand.

As I mentioned yesterday, my experiences with fasting are still fairly limited, but since hearing Dallas' statement and intentionally letting practices of "not doing"/disciplines of abstinence have more of a place in my life, my desire for life with God and energy for pursuing it stay much more consistent. We need to engage, and we need to abstain–both for the purpose of remaining open to God's work of grace.

Tomorrow we will take a surprising look at fasting in the Bible, and then on Thursday, at fasting in our Methodist tradition. We will look at them in the light that this statement from Dallas Willard shed on why many of us get worn out by our practices and how fasting and other "not doing" practices help us to avoid doing so.

A Prayer for the Day:

O God, the author of peace and lover of concord, to know you is eternal life and to serve you is perfect freedom: Defend us, your humble servants, in all assaults of our enemies; that we, surely trusting in your defense, may not fear the power of any adversaries; through the might of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

Click here for this week's scripture readings.

*From The Book of Common Prayer

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]

Day 23: Don't Fast To Be Seen By Others

Two weeks ago, we looked at implications of Jesus' instructions when he said, "When you give...," and I began that week by telling a somewhat embarrassing story about a time when I've done exactly the opposite of what Jesus taught. Then, last week, we looked at implications of Jesus' instructions when he said, "When you pray...," and I began with a somewhat embarrassing story about a time when I've done exactly the opposite of what Jesus taught. This week, we look at implications of Jesus' instructions when he said, "When you fast...," and rather than an embarrassing story, I can only give more of a confession: I haven't practiced this one enough to have many stories–embarrassing or not. Therefore, I probably shouldn't be writing anything about it. But it's Lent, so it's hard not to include fasting in the conversation. I guess I'll just hope in the likelihood of a good number of you of you seeing "fasting" in the subject line of this week's messages and deciding that you might find something else to read until next week.

It isn't that I've never fasted. It seems like each year, usually during Lent, I have some different way of experimenting with it. So, I've got enough experience with it that to try to have six helpful posts for this week. My hesitation about writing about it comes less from a lack of experience than it does from the knowledge that any efforts I've ever made in this practice have all been–at best–stumbling, bumbling efforts to which I can imagine God lovingly saying, "Well, thanks for trying."

One of my first and most memorable experiences with fasting was in graduate school. It was an introductory Spiritual Formation course in which we were studying and practicing different classic spiritual disciplines. When we got the syllabus, I noticed that the instructor had a week on fasting, which included the assignment of a three-day fast. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I had it on my radar, which was apparently better than a good number of my classmates. When we got to that week in the course, several of my peers who hadn't read the syllabus very closely did their best to virtually stage a revolt against the professor. How in the world could he expect us to do that? It became apparent that many of us enjoyed learning about and practicing spiritual disciplines until it came to one which was very effective at making us uncomfortable.

The professor gently guided us back to the fact that we all should've paid closer attention to the syllabus, and he also pointed us to Jesus' statement we're considering this week, not "if you fast," but "when you fast." Then, we all felt better when he assured us that the course requirement was that we attempt the three-day fast, not necessarily that we complete it. Many of my classmates gave up within the first day. I was much more mature than them and made it about 25 hours before throwing in the towel.

We have our subtle ways of giving to be seen by others, or praying to be seen by others, but our religious culture today is so far removed from that of Jesus, that fasting to be seen by others would be pretty obnoxious to most of us rather than being tempting. So perhaps Jesus' instructions about not fasting in order to be seen by others are way too easy for us today. Our work-around for it is simple: if we never fast, we're never fasting to be seen by others. But still, Jesus' statement implies that his followers will fast, and in another place (Matthew 9:14-15), Jesus even says explicitly that–after he is taken from them–his followers will fast. And many of Jesus' friends throughout the centuries have found this practice to be so deeply good that the church continues to hang on to its importance, even though many of us today have almost completely laid it aside.

So, for this week's reflections on our journey of denying ourselves and following Jesus toward the cross, let's all put on our steel-toe boots, realize that this is a practice designed to make us uncomfortable, and know that our loving, gracious Lord and millions of his friends have all walked this way before us.

Tomorrow we'll consider why it makes sense for fasting to have a place in our lives with God. Wednesday and Thursday, we'll look at the traditional practice of fasting from food, including its place in the Bible and in our history as Methodists. In the remainder of the week, we'll look at other types of fasting, where we cut ourselves off from things other than food.

A Prayer for the Day:

O God, the King eternal, whose light divides the day from the night and turns the shadow of death into the morning: Drive far from us all wrong desires, incline our hearts to keep your law, and guide our feet into the way of peace; that, having done your will with cheerfulness while it was day, we may, when night comes, rejoice to give you thanks; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

Click here for this week's scripture readings.

*From The Book of Common Prayer

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]

Fourth Sunday in Lent

Readings for the Fourth Sunday in Lent:

Joshua 5:9-12 Psalm 32 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

A Prayer for the Day:

O God, you make us glad with the weekly remembrance of the glorious resurrection of your Son our Lord: Give us this day such blessing through our worship of you, that the week to come may be spent in your favor; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

*From The Book of Common Prayer

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]

Day 22: I Hope I Never Forget This Conversation With My Son

[The following is adapted from Live Prayerfully: How Ordinary Lives Become Prayerful]

I recently bought a bigger pickup truck, solely for the purpose of being able to take my kids around with me when I’m doing work on our ranch. I love it when I get to take them. Sure, my productivity takes a dramatic nosedive, but I can still get some things done, and I love having my favorite people (my family) with me at my favorite place (our ranch).

I had my three-year-old son with me on one of these days, and on our way out of town driving toward the ranch we had to stop at a tire shop and get a flat tire fixed. After it was finished, and as I was buckling my little boy back into his car seat, we had a short conversation that I hope I never forget:

Me: I sure love having you with me, Bud.

Him: I love having you with me, too, Daddy. I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without ya.

…[He thought for a minute as I continued buckling him in]…

Him: If you were going somewhere by yourself, I’d want to catch up.

Now that will make any daddy’s day. In fact, that conversation took place more than a year ago, so I guess I can say that it didn’t just make my day, but made my year.

Out of the three ways of praying that we have explored this week, and which are explored further in Live Prayerfully, I grew up most accustomed to this third way, praying with my own words. Although it was the most familiar to me when I was younger (and there’s a good chance that’s also the case for many of you reading this), in recent years I’ve focused more on the other two ways of praying.

Praying with other people’s words through practices like Fixed-Hour Prayer has brought a shape, rhythm and depth to my prayer practices for which I had longed for for years.

Praying without words seems to be one of the most needed practices in my own spiritual life, and probably is for many of us. It’s in doing so that what we so often call “a personal relationship with God,” for me, becomes something that can actually be described as a relationship.

But these comments from my little boy, and the immense joy that they brought to me, knowing that they came from a very sincere place in his tender little heart, have reminded me of the power of talking to God in very personal words. For a lot of people, this is a very natural and easy way to pray, but it’s not always for me, at least not at this point in my life.

I don’t know if my words to God can have anywhere close to the same effect on him that my son’s can have on me, but I would guess that it’s similar. It certainly isn’t by accident that the writers of scripture, and particularly Jesus, so often choose to describe our relationship to God as one between a loving father and his children. So, if things between God and me are similar to things between my son and me, I need to tell him how much I like being with him.

It doesn’t require many words, but I’ve got to use some.

A Prayer for the Day:

Almighty God, who after the creation of the world rested from all your works and sanctified a day of rest for all your creatures: Grant that we, putting away all earthly anxieties, may be duly prepared for the service of your sanctuary, and that our rest here upon earth may be a preparation for the eternal rest promised to your people in heaven; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

Click here for this week's scripture readings.

*From The Book of Common Prayer

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]

Day 21: A Greatly Needed (and Little Experienced) Challenge

[The following is adapted from Live Prayerfully: How Ordinary Lives Become Prayerful]

One of my mentors, Ruth Haley Barton, has written, "silence is the most challenging, the most needed and the least experienced spiritual discipline among evangelical Christians today.”(1) That's quite a big statement, but I think she's right. If being quiet with God by praying without words is the most challenging, the most needed, and the least experienced spiritual discipline for us today, it’s going to be stretching for all of us, regardless of our personality preferences.

Praying without words is a practice that is contrary to our feelings, and it’s going to stretch any of us who practice it, so why would we bother with it?

Maybe we can understand the need for practicing prayer without words in our relationship with God if we think of times without words with our loved ones. Something about our relationships helps us to understand that it can be a sign of maturity to be able to enjoy being together while not saying anything.

My father was my hero, and he was extremely quiet. When I graduated from high school, I had the idea that it would be fun for the two of us to make the six-hour drive to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex to see a Texas Rangers baseball game together. Their new ballpark had just opened, and he’d never been to a major league game, so we went. He and I drove there in his pickup truck the day of the game, watched it, stayed the night in a hotel, drove back the next day, and I don’t think we said more than 150 words on the whole trip. And for the rest of his life we still mentioned how much we enjoyed that trip!

You are likely not as quiet as my father and I, but I think you can understand something of this aspect of a relationship between people. There comes a point in getting to know someone when you can enjoy just being together rather than having to get acquainted through small talk and other conversation. Sure, words are still fine and are often used, but there is also a trust and comfort that is uniquely expressed without them.

Brennan Manning says, “Simply showing up is a kind of loving. The readiness to conscientiously waste time with a friend is a silent affirmation of their importance in our lives.”(2) That is a great description of what prayer without words is: “conscientiously wasting time with a friend to affirm their importance in our lives.”

I had been a Christian for quite a while before I ever realized the truth of this in my relationship with God. It occurred to me, “If I cannot enjoy just being with God, without having to fill the time with words or other things, what does that say about how close we are? How can I even really describe it as a relationship, much less an ‘intimate personal relationship’ like we often say, if I will so easily come up with any tool or excuse available to avoid just being with God?”

Dallas Willard describes this bluntly. He says, “Silence is frightening because it strips us as nothing else does, throwing us upon the stark realities of our life. It reminds us of death, which will cut us off from this world and leave only us and God. And in that quiet, what if there turns out to be very little to ‘just us and God’? Think of what it says about the emptiness of our inner lives if we must always turn on the tape player or radio to make sure something is happening around us.”(3)

Praying without any words is such an important part of the spiritual life because our time in prayer without words is the time when that “something between just me and God” is given a chance to grow and develop. It is the time when what we so often call a relationship with God can come to consist of the two of us actually enjoying being together.

A Prayer for the Day:

Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

Click here for this week's scripture readings.

*From The Book of Common Prayer (1) See Ruth's book, Invitation to Solitude and Silence: Experiencing God's Transforming Presence (2) See Brennan Manning, The Signature of Jesus (3) See Dallas Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]

Day 20: The Prayer Someone Gave Manasseh

Perhaps at some point you've noticed this, which can seem very confusing: some groups of Christians have Bibles that have more books than other groups of Christians. Growing up as a Protestant, somewhere along the line I picked up on the implicit message that groups who had the "extra books" really must not have cared very much about the Bible (or–for that matter–must not have cared very much about God). Boy, was I wrong. My first clue that the extra books (the best term for them is "Deuterocanonical books," or in the past they were referred to as the "Apocrypha," but I'll stick with "extra" since it's easier to type) have some good things to say was when I bought a study Bible edited by a group of my favorite Christian scholars, and they decided to include the extra books. In part of their explanation of why they did so while knowing it would be a change for most of their readers, they explained that while these books aren't given the same weight as other parts of the Bible, they are worth reading and can be helpful to us just as good sermons and devotional writings. Even Martin Luther himself said, "Apocrypha–that is, books which are not regarded as equal to the holy Scriptures, and yet are profitable and good to read."

(I've probably made this explanation longer than necessary for today's reflection, but hopefully–if you come from a background similar to mine–it will at least convince you there's no need to call an exorcist the next time you see one of the extra-books-bibles.)

My second step toward valuing these books came when I started having a regular method for praying with other people's words by using prayer books. I've most often used The Book of Common Prayer, and about once every couple of weeks, I come around to this prayer from one of the extra books, "Prayer of Manasseh," which is a great prayer and gives good direction for the way that I want all of my praying to go during Lent:

O Lord and Ruler of the hosts of heaven, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and of all their righteous offspring: You made the heavens and the earth, with all their vast array.

All things quake with fear at your presence; they tremble because of your power. But your merciful promise is beyond all measure; it surpasses all that our minds can fathom. O Lord, you are full of compassion, long-suffering, and abounding in mercy. You hold back your hand; you do not punish as we deserve. In your great goodness, Lord, you have promised forgiveness to sinners, that they may repent of their sin and be saved. And now, O Lord, I bend the knee of my heart, and make my appeal, sure of your gracious goodness. I have sinned, O Lord, I have sinned, and I know my wickedness only too well. Therefore I make this prayer to you: Forgive me, Lord, forgive me. Do not let me perish in my sin, nor condemn me to the depths of the earth. For you, O Lord, are the God of those who repent, and in me you will show forth your goodness. Unworthy as I am, you will save me, in accordance with your great mercy, and I will praise you without ceasing all the days of my life. For all the powers of heaven sing your praises, and yours is the glory to ages of ages. Amen. (Prayer of Manasseh 1-2, 4, 6-7, 11-15)

That's a good prayer, regardless of which kind of Bible you have. (It's ascribed to Manasseh, who–though he almost certainly didn't actually write it, which is part of why it's one of the extra books rather than the regular books–was the longest reigning monarch of Judah, and a really, really bad one. Yet before the end of his life, he turned back to God with a prayer of repentance, so we follow the good part of his example by praying rich words like those of this prayer. See 2 Chronicles 33:1-20 for Manasseh's story.)

A Prayer for the Day:

Heavenly Father, in you we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray you so to guide and govern us by your Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget you, but may remember that we are ever walking in your sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*

A Prayer for the Week:

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.*

Click here for this week's scripture readings.

*From The Book of Common Prayer

[This is part of 40 Days of Prayer: Daily Emails for Lent]