SOMETIME AFTER THEIR RETURN FROM THE Babylonian exile, there arose among the Jewish people a prophet named Joel. The collection of his prophecies makes up one of the smaller books of the Old Testament. It is remarkable, though, for a particular theme that Joel focused upon: “the day of the LORD.” The way that Joel talked about the day of the Lord made it clear that this cataclysmic event would involve God’s judgment upon all the peoples of the world. And that judgment may indeed be harsh. “Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the LORD is coming,” Joel preached. “It is near, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness!” (Joel 2:1–2). Clearly this isn’t the kind of message that would bring a smile to your face if you happened to hear it firsthand.
Though he offered strong words of judgment through his preaching, Joel also said that punishment when the day of the Lord arrives is not inevitable. “ ‘Yet even now,’ declares the LORD, ‘return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments’ ” (Joel 2:12–13). Because God is slow to anger and abounds in steadfast love, he will offer forgiveness if he finds true sorrow and repentance among his people.
Along with the weeping and mourning that Joel mentioned when he was talking about repentance, notice the activity he mentioned right alongside them. It’s fasting. Fasting, that most unfashionable of spiritual practices, is given as a core element of true repentance before God. As we’ll soon see, different types of fasting go far back into the biblical witness. Fasting, as it turns out, is also considered to be among the instituted means of grace in Wesleyan spirituality. So unfashionable or not, it deserves our serious consideration.
The practice of fasting is found throughout the Old Testament, but it isn’t done for just one reason. One of the major purposes of fasting was as a form of repentance for unfaithfulness. Fasting could be adopted by individuals whom God condemned for their sin and injustice by one of the prophets. Following his double betrayal of his loyal soldier Uriah, King David was confronted by the prophet Nathan who pronounced judgment over his sin. In response, David undertook a fast of repentance in the hopes that his son by Bathsheba would be spared by God (see 2 Samuel 12:13–16). Later, King Ahab also fasts and puts on sackcloth to show his repentance following Elijah’s words of judgment against him for the death of Naboth and the seizure of his vineyard (see 1 Kings 21:27). Of course, fasting could be undertaken by the whole Israelite people as a form of national repentance as well. The Jews fasted, put on sackcloth, and covered their heads with dirt as a sign of their confession and a part of the renewal of the covenant following their return from exile (see Nehemiah 9:1–2). It’s also the reason that Joel mentions fasting as a way to show sorrow prior to the coming day of the Lord.
Fasting was undertaken on other occasions as well— not necessarily disconnected from the confession of sin, but for other reasons in addition. Leaders would sometimes proclaim a fast at the approach of war or other danger as a way to seek God’s assistance.1 People also fasted to seek divine assistance for other specific favors, as when Nehemiah combines fasting and prayer when he wants to ask God to restore Israel near the end of exile (see Nehemiah 1:4–11). Sometimes, fasting would be done primarily to show grief in tragic circumstances. David’s fast following the deaths of King Saul and his son Jonathan is an example (see 2 Samuel 1:11–12), as is the Jews’ fast throughout the Persian Empire when they learn that the royal servant Mordecai has conspired to assassinate them (see Esther 4:1–3).
A final type of fasting in the Old Testament can be seen in the Nazirite vow. The “vow of a Nazirite” is first mentioned in the book of Numbers, where it is described as a temporary consecration that a man or woman can make as a form of purification and special dedication.2 Nazirites abstain from wine or any other alcoholic beverage during the time of their vow, and they also avoid certain behaviors such as cutting their hair, shaving, or touching a corpse. While not a fast in the traditional sense, the Nazirite vow embraced the spirit of fasting by its self-denial. It was also seen as serious business. The original teaching about the vow was given directly from God to Moses, and when the prophet Amos pronounced God’s judgment on Israel sometime in the eighth century BC, one of the people’s transgressions was that they “made the Nazirites drink wine” (Amos 2:11–12). A number of figures throughout the Bible take some form of a Nazirite vow. The hero Samson is one (which puts the consequences of his haircut in a whole new light!). The prophet Samuel is another.3 In the New Testament, the apostle Paul appears to have taken some version of a Nazirite vow during his second missionary journey.4
Fasting appears directly in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ in the Gospels. Following Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan, he went out into the wilderness for forty days. It was a period of fasting and temptation for Jesus, who was “full of the Holy Spirit” and “ate nothing during those days” (Luke 4:1–2). When Satan came to test him, he specifically aimed at Jesus’ practice of fasting. He knew Jesus would be weak from hunger and tempted him to turn a stone into bread. Jesus’ response was to quote the Torah, saying, “Man does not live by bread alone.” He fasted from food so that he might be nourished by God the Father; he was the very Word of God and so knew the truth that God’s children are called to live “by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” (see Deuteronomy 8:3).
Jesus’ experience in the wilderness shows us the presence of fasting in his own life. We find it in his teaching during the Sermon on the Mount. There, he says to his hearers,
“When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (Matt. 6:16–18)
At times, Jesus could be criticized by the Pharisees and even by the disciples of John the Baptist because it didn’t seem to them as if his own disciples fasted at all.5 How to reconcile those encounters with his clear teaching about fasting in the Sermon on the Mount is not quite clear. It is possible that Jesus’ responses to his questioners in each instance were meant to impart the lesson he wanted them to have at that time. As he did at other times, Jesus refused to be drawn into debate on the terms posed by those who were trying to put him on the spot. He didn’t feel the need to explain that his followers fasted quietly and without great show, and with that attitude his responses embodied the same humility that he wanted his disciples to embrace when they fasted themselves.
Two points about John Wesley’s view on fasting show us how important he believed this spiritual practice was as a means of grace. One is that he was deeply frustrated that it seemed to him as if almost no one in his context understood fasting very well. In a sermon on fasting in the New Testament, Wesley argues that fasting is the one means of grace that is the most misunderstood. Some people over-value its worth, fasting to the point of doing serious damage to their health. Others neglect it entirely, as if it has no importance whatsoever. “It is not all; nor yet is it nothing,” Wesley explains. “It is not the end; but it is a precious means thereto, a means which God himself has ordained; and in which therefore, when it is duly used, he will surely give us his blessing.”6 The key is to take fasting seriously but to fast in moderation. When people respond to his encouragements about fasting by saying that they cannot fast at all for fear of hurting their health, he responds wisely as a good pastor should. Rather than abstaining entirely from food, such people should abstain from luxuries: coffee, tea, chocolate, and the like. And even if they don’t feel they should abstain from meals entirely, Wesley reasons, they can eat lighter meals and forsake certain types of food for periods of time (such as meat).7 In other words, there are multiple ways to fast and any single person should only fast in a way that makes sense for him or her. The point is not to earn merit; it is to humble yourself before God and seek to be filled with his Holy Spirit.
“And with fasting let us always join fervent prayer, pouring out our whole souls before God, confessing our sins with all their aggravations, humbling ourselves under his mighty hand, laying open before him all our wants, all our guiltiness and helplessness.”
—John Wesley8
The second point Wesley makes about fasting is that fasting is often connected with other spiritual disciplines in the Bible. Fasting and prayer are often coupled together: that is true in the Sermon on the Mount itself, and it is also true of the ministry of the apostles in the book of Acts.9 This is enough for Wesley to encourage strongly that we should go about the Christian life with “earnest prayer and fasting.” The former draws us near to God so that we might be met by his Spirit, while the latter seeks to empty us so that we might be filled again with grace.
Along with combining fasting with prayer, Wesley also sees fasting as connected with what he calls the “works of mercy.” These are activities he identifies with Jesus’ teaching to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and imprisoned, and welcome the stranger. (We’ll look at the works of mercy more fully in Chapter 9.) When it comes to their connection to fasting, the prophet Isaiah in the Old Testament points the way:
Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of wickedness,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover him,
and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?
Then shall your light break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up speedily;
your righteousness shall go before you;
the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
(Isa. 58:6–8)
It’s an absolutely arresting passage in Isaiah. To link the idea of a fast with the ministries of mercy described in this passage suggests that we learn something central about the love of God when we put aside our own grand plans and objectives in order to pursue God’s desires for the welfare of his children.10
The spiritual benefits of fasting are clear enough in the biblical witness: repentance, humility, mourning, intercession, and an aid to prayer. In the Wesleyan view, all that is left is for us to trust God enough to believe that fasting will be a means of grace in our lives. “Do you know the obligation and the benefit of fasting? How often do you practice it?” Wesley asks us. “The neglect of this alone is sufficient to account for our feebleness and faintness of spirit. We are continually grieving the Holy Spirit of God by the habitual neglect of a plain duty! Let us amend from this hour.”11 Given that fasting is as rare in our day as it was in Wesley’s own, that is sound advice.
It may be the case that there is no spiritual practice more at odds with our present culture than fasting. We live in an era when we are taught to expect that we can get anything we want, whenever we want. By and large, we don’t even have to leave the comfort of our own homes in the process. It’s all just a mouse click away! Any felt need can be satisfied through a Google search and a credit card purchase. Pretty much anything you desire you can have delivered right to your doorstep, two-day shipping available.
So what does it mean to suggest that doing just the opposite of what the culture encourages could actually be one of the most important things we can do in our lives? “Hello there, Mr. Consumer. I know everything you hear or read from television, radio, and the Internet says you should indulge every appetite you have. But I’m here to tell you that actually denying yourself to the point of physical discomfort could be the very means that God will use to transform your life!” It sounds crazy. Bizarrely countercultural. It’s the sort of thing that would surely make the list of “least popular things that Christians do.”
I’ll admit that the practice of fasting has never been easy for me. Until recently, my attempts to fast were limited to the season of Lent. At the onset of Lent each year, I commit to abstaining from something I sincerely enjoy (usually a type of food) although even there I find myself breaking my fast at some point during Lent more often than not. The approach to fasting that I have embraced more recently is a Friday fast—from waking till three o’clock in the afternoon (although sometimes I’ll shorten it to noon on days when I have a speaking engagement and have to have a sharp mind). The Friday fast is something I’ve come to look forward to, and it does help to center me inwardly on God.
I actually think that it is the very countercultural nature of fasting that can make it a powerful means of grace in the present. Christians used to speak positively about the spiritual value of suffering. As we became more sensitive to how that message can come across to victims of child or spousal abuse, we have tended to shy away from the “suffering is good for you” message. But surely there is a certain type of voluntary suffering that can have real spiritual benefit. That is particularly the case in a consumerist culture. We have abundance all around us to the point that most of us are guilty of gluttony to some degree. Taking the step of saying that we will deny ourselves food so that we can be filled with the Holy Spirit could be a practice that serves to jar us out of the worst of our consumerist idolatries.
The way we could go about applying fasting to our daily discipleship might take on a number of different forms. Adopting fasting as a Lenten discipline in the period before Easter is not a bad way to start. From personal experience, I can say that a weekly Friday fast can be a beginning point as well (and one that isn’t limited to a specific season of the year). For people who just have a hard time fasting in general, taking Wesley’s advice might be the way to go: choose a particular food or beverage that you love or rely upon, and abstain from it one or two days each week as a partial fast. Beyond these options, I’d simply say that our motivation for fasting really does make a difference. If you want to go on a diet for your appearance or health, then go on a diet. We don’t fast to lose weight; we fast so that we can be drawn closer to Christ Jesus.
Since fasting does involve denying yourself true bodily necessities, we should also be wise in the way we go about it. People with medical conditions that cause them to need to eat certain types of food at certain specific times may have to accept that this means of grace is simply not available to them. For the rest of us, though, we should make some serious attempt to embrace a practice of moderate fasting. Better yet, do it together with a spouse, a friend, or with fellow members of a small group. Both the encouragement and the accountability will be helpful.
Not long ago, I heard a sermon that dealt with fasting as a major topic. It occurred to me afterward that it was probably the first sermon on fasting I’d ever heard. The preacher connected fasting with self-control. He said, “Fasting is a way of saying, ‘I will not be controlled by my appetites. I will not be controlled by the external forces in the world around me.’ ”12 This strikes me as a very timely message for us today. After all, we are all surrounded by idols. They may not look like carved statues or totem poles anymore, but they are things that compete for our allegiance just the same: our possessions, wealth, technological devices, and cravings for entertainment or sex or food. These things will rule our lives if we let them and they are always around us.
We begin to make headway against them when we realize that discipleship is akin to athletic training. And as any serious athlete can tell you, becoming excellent in one sport or another takes a lot of discipline and, yes, self-control. “The positive side of self-control,” the preacher said that Sunday, “is that we are all called to be spiritual athletes.” It’s no coincidence that the apostle Paul talks about fighting the good fight and running the race in conjunction with keeping the faith. Nor should it surprise us that Hebrews tells us to run with perseverance the race that is set before us. Athletic training can transform a person’s body into something remarkable. Spiritual training can do the same thing with a person’s heart and soul—and fasting should be a chief component of it.