The Fundamentals of Fasting I

 To some, it may seem like an outdated concept. Fasting? What is that? You’re telling me I’m supposed to abstain from something and not indulge in every whim and impulse? I’m supposed to have self-control and the strength to say no to whatever might be proffered to me? Surely, you must be mistaken. That’s what the old fogies used to do. Isn’t it? They were all about the fasting, and the praying, and the humbling of themselves. We’ve got a new groove for a new age, and prayer isn’t really prayer anymore but a laundry list of what we would like from God, and fasting, well, that’s just as antiquated a concept as buggy whips and chamber pots. And you wonder why we don’t see the power prior generations did. You wonder why we’re stuck spinning our wheels so hungry for anything of the supernatural that we flock to some spikey-haired simpleton who’s telling people she went to heaven via a porta-potty.

It wasn’t broke, but we tried to fix it anyway because we thought we knew better and we could simplify it to the point that it cost us nothing, required nothing of us, and we could still enjoy all the benefits of sonship and belonging. It would be the best of both worlds; at least, that’s what they insisted.

You could have the power, perpetual presence, and indomitable authority of the Almighty without denying yourself or following the well-worn path of those who came before you. What did they know anyway? Sure, calling fire down from heaven is all well and good, but fire doesn’t keep you in Gucci, eating Wagyu beef fillets and sipping on Pappy Van Winkle.

The truth of it is we wanted the comfort more than His presence, and the enemy was more than willing to oblige. It’s the power the enemy fears, not the fancy cars or the expensive watches, and as long as he can keep you from it, he’s willing to keep you in Versace until they stick you in a box and put you in the ground.

It’s not a mystery as to why those who came before us walked in power and authority. It wasn’t the seminary degrees or the workshops on how to take up an offering; it wasn’t having a good public relations team or advertising on the right platforms; it was being what God expects His servants to be and doing the things He expects them to do.

To the last, they were men and women of fasting and prayer, individuals over whom this life held no sway and for whom to die for the sake of Christ was gain. It wasn’t something they did once in a great while or whenever the mood struck them; it was a consistent practice that saw their level of faith and maturity grow exponentially.

So, what is fasting? Fasting is a voluntary abstinence from food and drink, as well as other distracting practices, for a predetermined time for the sole purpose of drawing closer to God. We don’t fast to get stuff; we fast to get Him. Even if the stuff you’re fasting for is noble, it still misses the mark because you can’t twist God’s arm into doing something no matter how hungry you get. If you’re doing it for any other reason, you’ve missed the entire point of the exercise.

Although the notion of fasting has been broadened to mean abstaining from anything one might enjoy, whether fishing or video games, since the first instance of fasting was mentioned in the Bible, it had to do with abstaining from food and drink.

I could say I’ve been fasting from playing video games for thirty-five years because that was the last time I sat down and played duck hunt, but when it comes to food and drink, everyone must avail themselves of these two if they want to live. Food and drink are existential necessities in everyone’s life; video games, or fishing for that matter, aren’t. I know I just annoyed all my fishermen friends because, to some of them, it is existential, but we can agree to disagree on this one.

The purpose for which we fast is likewise relevant because I’ve heard that fasting is an excellent form of weight loss one too many times. If you’re fasting to lose weight, then you’re fasting to lose weight. If you’re fasting to mortify the flesh, empty yourself of yourself, and draw closer to God, then the purpose for which you are doing it is very different than to drop a few pounds.

There is a difference between the rigidity of religion and a refreshing and renewing of relationship with God. We fast, not because it’s something we need to check off, being miserable every minute of doing it, and counting the seconds until we can dig into the roasted duck we’ve been basting in the oven for the past ten hours. We fast because we know that we will discover more of God’s majesty every time we deny ourselves, humble ourselves, and concentrate fully on Him.

Some years ago, I visited Istanbul with my in-laws and my wife and made the mistake of letting my father-in-law plan the trip. Since he had no awareness of their traditions, he booked the cheapest dates he could find, and unsurprisingly, those dates fell on Ramadan. For those unaware, Ramadan is a month-long fast for all Muslims, during which time they eat and drink nothing from sundown to sundown.

The thing that stood out most, second to the fact that everyone was short-tempered and irritable, was how every evening, everyone would be sitting at tables with their food covered in plastic, just waiting for sundown so they could tear the saran wrap away and have at it. That’s the difference between the rigidity of religion and fasting in order to draw closer to God.

If the purpose of your fast is anything other than intimacy with God, you’ve thoroughly missed the point of fasting altogether and can be likened to toddlers who think that holding their breath will convince their parents to let them eat three pounds of chocolate in one sitting. We fast not to paint God into a corner about some thing or another but to grow in Him, to know Him better, and to make room in the vessel for more of His presence. Eventually, given enough time, all the vessel will contain is Him. That’s when you really start cooking with rocket fuel.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.