the season of bright sadness

When, two or three years ago, I first started "doing Lent," it was quite poorly done. I was actually fasting just to prove I could. And, secretly, I hoped to make God like me more, to impress Him with my own piousness, attract His eye, and hold His ear close to my prayers.

I've been learning, slowly, that fasting doesn't work like that. It's not a gimmick to attract attention, nor a simple exercise in self-discipline. So what is it? What does it mean? And why do I desire to practice it, since I know that there is nothing I can do to attract the favor of an impartial God?

I've struggled through this over the past few years, gone through stages where I flatly refused to fast at all because I was pretending not to be prideful. Obviously, that was a rather strong backlash, and not biblical either.

Perhaps the best explanation of fasting I've found is, not surprisingly, given by God Himself.
On the day of your fasting, He accuses His people, you do as you please [. . .] You cannot fast as you do today and expect your voice to be heard on high. Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for a man to humble himself?
Clearly not. However, God proceeds to explain exactly what He requires of fast-ers. Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice, and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?

I hate self-denial, really strongly hate it, and I am really really bad at it. But if fasting gives me more time . . . or energy . . . or new perspective . . . and gives me extra space to pursue God's presence and implement His will in my own heart and in the world around me, then yes. I'll do it.

Last Sunday, our priest spoke on fasting, in preparation for the Lenten season. The crux of what he shared was this. Fasting is denying ourselves so we can more clearly hear the voice of God, putting aside an activity or object temporarily to make specific space for our hearts to be quiet and listen to the Spirit, refraining from a legitimate pleasure in order to gain the superior pleasure of the presence of the LORD.

In short, giving up the good for the best.

So, whether you observe Lent (February 22-April 8 this year) or not, whether you give up Facebook or meat or plastic or smoking or sweets or bathing on Fridays (please don't), whether you practice weekly meal-fasts or not, whether you are involved in a liturgical denomination or not, here is to a life of fasting--to living as people who defy injustice, who reach out to the needy and oppressed, who do whatever it takes to hear the voice of God, who change the world.

Good Lent.