“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:16-21
“What are you giving up for Lent?” Maybe you have heard this question recently…on the dorm hall, at the cafeteria table, or down the pew at church. Thanks to pop culture and social media, it has become popular—even expected—to “give something up” during the six weeks leading up to Easter.
The practice comes from the practice of Lenten fasting, a Christian tradition of abstaining from certain foods (or even all food) for a time to sharpen one’s relationship with God. The problem is that we have lost the plot a bit and have turned the practice into a way to break an unhealthy habit, enforce a New Year’s Resolution, or even reinforce some unhealthy perfectionistic expectations about the ways that we are “supposed to” live.
I like the way that Christine Valters Paintner instead approaches this language of fasting, in her new book A Different Kind of Fast. Instead of simply skipping the chocolate for a few weeks or blocking social media, she asks us to look at the root causes of our hunger, not just the symptoms. She invites us to think about fasting in broader terms: fasting from consuming, multitasking and inattention, scarcity, anxiety, speed and rushing, from “holding it all together,” planning and deadlines, or certainty. With each fast, she invites us to embrace a new way of being: simplicity, full presence in the moment, radical trust, slowness and pausing, tenderness and vulnerability, unfolding and ripening, mystery and waiting.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus suggests some have lost the plot when it comes to fasting. It had become more about the show than God’s work of quiet and deep transformation. Instead, he invites “store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” This Lent, may we each seek the one who addresses our true needs and meets us at the places of our deepest heart hungers.
Submitted by Rev. Dr. Matt Sturtevant