Aaaand, about face!

Well, I stand corrected, and from a source I can't ignore.  With my online sources, I could dismiss something that struck me as radical by saying, " Well, that's an interesting position, but I want some Reformed instruction."  Well, this past Sunday, that's what I got.  My pastor preached a sermon on fasting. 

I really think it's wonderful to see Reformed thinkers engaging in subjects like fasting and other ancient practices.  I talked to my husband's grandfather, who has been in different Reformed traditions (CRC, Presbyterian) all of his life, and he said he couldn't remember a single sermon, a single instance of or call to fasting coming from the church. A general inquiry sent out to my friends and family via Facebook turned up silence.  And Pastor Carl said was that the mention of fasting in our circles gets a blank look. 

But lately interest in the traditions of the early church has been increasing.  A Presbyterian friend of mine in Phoenix says that her church sponsored a fast two years ago.  This year they're focusing on learning different methods of prayer.  In my own churches, I've seen an increased interest in the basic practices of Christianity like forgiveness  (which is kind of necessary, you know?), and now I've heard my first sermon on fasting. 

Pastor Carl focused on Mark, chapter two verses 18 and 19, where the Pharisees come to Jesus and demand to know why his disciples are not fasting as the disciples of John and the Pharisees fast.  The answer is simple.  We fast because we long to be intimate with God.  Jesus' disciples were intimate with God.  He was right there.  The presence of God, or the right presence of God, is an occasion for feasting, not for fasting.  I say the right presence of God because in the Old Testament on the Day of Atonement, God demanded that that people fast when he came down (Lev. 23:28 ff).  This was so that they would recognize their unworthiness.  Christ takes that unworthiness away, so our intimacy with God can be pure joy.  (Covenental.  "I will be your God, and you will be my people." sort of thing.) 

Once Christ returned to the Father, that intimacy necessarily took a hit.  No longer could Jesus simply be seen and heard; now the body and soul must be directed to the Spirit in order to hear him and be close to Him. Ergo, we fast. We unite body and soul in the quest to be close to God, "allowing the body to engage in the spiritual dimension."  So the primary purpose of fasting is not to make things happen or to draw notice to a cause.  (I had grasped that.) In fact, Pastor Carl said, you might not see immediate results in the world around you or even in yourself.  "Measure progress in decades, in a lifetime, of giving yourself body and soul to our Lord Jesus Christ." (That I hadn't heard before.)

That is a very Reformed understanding.  We're a little suspicious of the promise of miracles, I find, but we understand daily, long term submission and dedication, and we understand that such a lifestyle brings brings us closer to God.  This understanding also puts paid to the worry that we're trying to force God's hand or tell him what to do. 

Practically, Pastor Carl helped me clarify my confusion about physical and spiritual practices.  The body follows the spirit of the person as the spirit engages in a "weighty sacred moment."    The best example of a weighty sacred moment is grief.  In grief, the spirit so overwhelms the body that it doesn't really want food, a spontaneous fast if you will.  I'm not sure if he was saying that all true fasts are spontaneous, but I definitely comprehended that a true fast is initiated by an urgent spiritual desire, not by a church calendar.  (of course, if the church calendar reminds you of your urgent spiritual desire, well then, . . .)

 What most people do during Lent for the last thousand years or so is not fasting.  It's abstention, which chimes with the Apostle Paul's admonition that everything is permissible, but nothing should master us (1 Cor. 6:13).  True fasting is going hungry (so scratch out all my advice from that last blog entry).  It's letting the body be as hungry as the spirit is -- hungry to be rid of a sin, hungry to see God's kingdom come and his will be done, hungry to be more holy, loving, and obedient in connection with God. The early church, says Pastor Carl, fasted on Wednesdays and Fridays to suffer with our Lord Jesus in his betrayal and death.  They gave up all food from breakfast until supper. Then they feasted on Sunday to celebrate his resurrection and inevitable return. 

That makes sense, I suppose, but I wonder where it leaves me now.  I started this inquiry by fasting for 40 days to see an end to abortion.  Now it turns out that I'm abstaining, not fasting, for 40 days and kind of missing the point.  Not that I doubt God wants to see an end to abortion, but as often happens, I find I have to put the object aside in order to see the subject.  I have a commitment to see these 40 days through.  Do I add fasting to them?  I think I just have to jump in with both feet and find out.

P.S.  Pastor Carl used a book by one Scot McKnight as a source in his sermon.  The book is called Fasting, and it's part of an ancient practices series published by Thomas Nelson.  It comes in hardcover, paperback, and Kindle editions.  I haven't read it yet, but McKnight is a well-respected Bible scholar.  Should be good.