Jitterbugging for Jesus

Christian fasting isn’t some kind of self-flagellation; it’s not an exercise in gritting our teeth for 40 to get through pain and discomfort we aim to inflict on ourselves.

Fasting, whether done during the 40 days of Lent (which don’t include Sundays) or at any other time, is an exercise in laying bare all the stuff we bury deep inside ourselves.

I make the case in my book that the poor and powerless are being blamed and scapegoated for all of America’s social ills. And just as sure as it’s a personal sin to lie or kill or commit adultery, scapegoating the poor is a social sin.

It’s like pulling down a periscope and taking a hard look at all the stuff we’ve pushed way down deep inside ourselves. In denying ourselves something we crave to the point of mild or severe addiction — be it sweets, or our two and more glasses of wine every day when the 5 o’clock bell rings — or even something as addictive as Facebook and Twitter — we bring that which is getting between us and our relationship with God into clear focus.

All of our inner “stuff” tends to bubble up to the surface and we awaken to how that stuff has put distance between us and the Lord.

Furthermore, fasting isn’t just about giving something up; it’s about giving, period.

The spiritual discipline of fasting isn’t just an exercise in giving something up. It’s about deepening our prayer life, taking “a closer walk with Thee” (to quote an old hymn) — and giving to the poor.

Father James Martin, the Catholic priest and wonderful, contemporary Christian leader who has a gift for reaching people of all faiths and no faiths, says this:

I’m not sure if you’re Christian or not, but for most Christians this is the period of the year known as Lent. And if you know nothing else about Lent, you probably know that people give things up. And in general, that’s a noble practice.

[But in] ancient times, people would give things up not only to live healthier lives, and prepare themselves spiritually for Easter, but also for another reason: to give money to the poor. The idea was that if you spent less money on things like meat you could give what you saved to those who need it. That’s why fasting and almsgiving and prayer, the three pillars of Lent, are all connected.

So as you pray the examen [spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius], and think about the ways that God is at work in your life, you might ask yourself another question: How is what I’m doing helping the poor?

Indeed, when I was growing up, the Methodist Church provided members of congregations with packets with pockets for inserting a dime during every day of Lent. The packet of dimes was given back to the church at the end of Lent for giving to the poor. One of my parents would give me a dime every day to add to it. (And 40 dimes went in long way in feeding the poor a hundred years ago.)

I’ll have more about the spiritual discipline of fasting from the great spiritual writer Richard Foster in Monday’s Lenten reflection.

Go high, not low.