Fasting

Entering the administration building at our university during the second week of school following Christmas break, I was confronted by this six-foot-tall blackboard titled "What will you give up?" The corner banners  told me this was an initiative of our student association. At the base of the board was a container of sidewalk chalk.

As you can see, students, faculty and staff were invited to declare what they would give up for a 40-day fast, at the urging of the student spiritual life leaders on our campus. People were writing up the usual suspects: chocolate, TV, Facebook, YouTube, candy, unhealthful food, caffeine and so on. But there were also commitments to give up much more difficult habits: holding grudges, time, feeling like I'm not good enough, procrastination. One wag declared a fast from homework, and a young curmudgeon wrote: "Public lent is vanity." That comment actually caused me think.

This initiative was paired with our "Winter Week of Worship," which means that we attend chapel every day, at which two students give short 10-15 minute talks. This year the student association's spiritual vice president led the planning group in focusing on the question "Dear Jesus...Now What?"

One of our student speakers during her talk

"We chose a theme," he said, "that echoes what we feel is a huge desire on our campus: to live one’s faith - to live a life for Christ in the fullest sense.”  The perspectives on what that means, were as varied as the speakers. And the talks weren't just fluff. As I listened, I heard careful thought, good questions, and inspiring calls to live differently.

Plastic wristbands are a popular way for young adults to remind themselves of commitments, and the students included them in this initiative.  On the wristbands available for anyone who wanted them, was written: "40 Days..  Slow Down: Fast"

I pondered whether I would join the fast, and what I might give up ... keeping in mind, of course, that phrase "Public lent is vanity." I have great respect for the good ideas of our students, and for the value of sharing a spiritual or service-directed experience with them. The number of days didn't matter to me.

So I decided to fast from a simple and seemingly minor activity: reading my Facebook news feed.  The deeper issue is the time I was spending on browsing the online "wall" each morning, to the detriment of my devotional time and readiness to enter my day deliberately. Fasting isn't helpful unless it frees you up for something of great value, and that's what I wanted.

I am about twelve days into my fast, and I'm deeply appreciative of the quality of time that has been freed up. Yes, I do miss crossing paths with interesting happenings in the lives of my friends and former students. But the simplification of life is a powerfully good thing. We have only 24 hours each day, and the best way to live them well is to de-clutter those non-flexible 24 hours.

While I am enjoying participating in this fast with the students, I'm reminded of some verses that talk about a much more important fast, one to which I need to give my long-term attention. Here it is, a breathtakingly beautiful passage. I trust it will give you "cause for pause," as it does for me:

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?

Is it not to share your food with the hungry

and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—

when you see the naked, to clothe them,

and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

Then your light will break forth like the dawn,

and your healing will quickly appear;

then your righteousness will go before you,

and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;

you will cry for help, and he will say: "Here am I."

Isaiah 58:6-9