“Fasting” from one thing at a time.

Custom during the Lenten season, because it’s a time to reflect on Jesus’s death and self-sacrifice, is the Lenten fast, between Ash Wednesday and Easter. (And take Sundays off. Not everybody remembers Sundays are feast days, and we’re not meant to fast on feast days.) But it’s not a total 40-day fast; many who practice Lent simply go without meat and alcohol… plus one other thing.

And for many, if not most, they only go without the one other thing. Hence all the discussions before Ash Wednesday of “What’re you giving up for Lent?” Then, during the Lenten season, “How’re you doing?”—a question which typically dies off after the people who usually ask this question, fail in their own fasts.

Lent isn’t the only time Christians “fast” from only one thing. I’ve done it. My church would call for a weeklong fast, or a 14-day fast, or a 21-day fast, and I really didn’t feel like starving myself just because Pastor had a spiritual bug up his heiney. (And as you can tell, my own attitude at the time sucked.) So like many a Christian, I did the laziest bare minimum: I gave up only one thing. Something inconvenient, yet kinda easy. Like coffee. Now, if you know how much coffee I consume, you might think this was an act of heroic self-control on my part… but nah, it’s really not. I’m not addicted to caffeine. (I drink it for the flavor, and switch to decaf after lunch.) Giving up caffeine was just as easy.

As was sugar—which was something I actually stuck with after the fast was over. But giving up bagels was unexpectedly hard; guess I’m more addicted to them than I realized. Meh; enough about me.

I’ve been asked whether giving up only one thing as a “fast” actually counts as a fast. It can. Two thoughts though.

First of all I gotta ask them whether they’re honestly fasting for the right reasons. You do realize God never obligates us to fast. Yes, there are those numbnuts who insist he absolutely did call for a fast in Isaiah 58.6, but obviously they never read the context: The LORD’s using fasting as a metaphor for justice and freedom. Has nothing to do with going hungry for God, nor giving up a particular item.

So we’re not disobeying God when we skip a fast, break a fast, “cheat” on a fast, or diet instead of fasting. True, our churches might want us to fast, and legalistic churches will certainly require it. But unless you swore to God you’d fast along with ’em, you’re not sinning if you don’t fast. (And of course lying about it, or pretending you’re fasting when you’re not, is always wrong.)

Likewise I don’t want people to think the purpose of fasting is to earn karmic points with God. God never “owes us one” for fasting, nor anything we do. Worship and obedience is our duty, Lk 17.10 not a favor we do for him that’s gonna earn us jewels in our heavenly crowns. What, did you not get enough participation trophies in youth soccer?

Fasting is simply a practice which Christians have found helps us focus better on God in prayer, and helps us develop self-control. That’s the only reason we do it. If anyone tells you there are other spiritual abilities, benefits, or rewards for fasting, I advise you to be wary. Too many of ’em are trying to get you to follow them more so than God.

Second I don’t assume Christians are lazy when they want a bare-minimum “fast.” Yeah, sometimes it’s totally that; been there done that myself. But more often it’s because fasting is hardcore. And admittedly, we’re weak. Going without food for a whole day? We’ll crack by 10AM! We’ll walk into the break room, someone will have brought doughnuts, and we’ll hold out maybe an hour. But knowing ourselves, less. A warm Krispy Kreme doughnut is a powerful thing.

I don’t say this to condemn weak Christians. Every last one of us was a weak Christian at one point. (Me, many points.) So if you’re still weak, I’m here to help, not judge or mock. You gotta build self-control. Fasting is the fastest way to do it, but it’s wise to start small and work your way up. Y’don’t just tackle the very hardest practices, and presume you’ll be a natural ’cause now you have Holy Spirit power. Fast small before you fast big.

So, the very least we can fast… is that one single thing.

And this is a very common Christian practice. Some Christians do it every Lent. I’m not saying you need to observe Lent. Start even smaller. Abstain for a week. See how you do. If you fail—and you may—try again.

Abstaining from the wrong thing.

Every Lent I get asked what I’m giving up. If I’ve not yet chosen anything—or if I don’t feel like sharing—I tend to joke. “I’m giving up fruits and vegetables.” That tends to throw ’em. Or “I’m giving up cocaine and meth”—and if people don’t know me very well, but they’ve already noticed I’m kinda hyperactive, they’ll assume that’s why, and respond, “Um… well that’s good!” Um… yes it is. That’s not why. But whatever.

Whenever I talked about Lent with my students, some of ’em would pick things they really shouldn’t give up, or kinda couldn’t give up. One kid declared, “I’m gonna give up bathing!” He already smelled much too much like foot cheese, so the rest of the class immediately objected. In fact this is the one example Jesus used when he taught us to not be obvious we’re fasting: Clean your hair and wash your face. Mt 6.16-18 For the love of God, bathe!

Likewise sleep. Many people really don’t get enough sleep as it is. Yet I’ve heard of Christians deciding they’re gonna limit themselves to six or four hours of sleep a night, with no naps to make up for it. And that’s nuts. People go crazy, or die, from sleep deprivation. I witnessed, firsthand, a guy lose his mind from it; he had to be hospitalized. Don’t do that! If you’re sleeping too much, check with a doctor to see whether you’re suffering from sleep disorders or clinical depression. Otherwise get proper sleep. You need it.

Certain Christians get the warped idea fasting is a form of suffering—that our times of fasting are best used to punish ourselves for sin, or to gain God’s sympathy, or so we can better relate to other people who are suffering. So they pick things that’ll make ’em suffer: They give up warmth, and sleep outside in the cold. They give up water, so they can experience true thirst. They add discomforts, and deliberately hurt themselves. Christian history is full of such examples, and none of this is God’s idea. Yes, suffering is part of the world we live in. Jn 16.33 But Jesus came to end suffering, not inspire people to make ourselves suffer all the more. Don’t hurt yourself!

Lastly, people who pick something they should’ve given up anyway. I mentioned how I gave up sugar, and kept off it. I didn’t choose it because I needed to abstain from sugar anyway… although I did. I chose it because I figured it’d be a challenge. For some people it certainly is. For me it wasn’t, so it was no trouble to keep it up. But if you’re planning to use your fast to break a bad habit, or give up an addiction, you’re doing it wrong.

And break those bad habits anyway. Don’t just fast from cigarettes for a week; quit altogether. If you’re alcoholic or an addict of any sort, join a recovery or 12-step group; go to rehab. If it’s a habitual sin, repent and resist the temptation to ever go back to it. Don’t just give it up for a week, then fall right back in: Give it up forever.

Working on the one thing.

Okay. When we pick the one thing we’re gonna give up, whether for a day, a week, or for Lent, I usually advise people to look for something that’d be hard to do without. Something we don’t wanna give up. Something that’s a challenge. Like coffee, beer, watching sports (especially during playoffs, and Major League Baseball’s opening day, which almost always lands during Lent), bread, meat, social media, television, betting, video games… anything you habitually do, but can do without.

Instead of that thing you’ve given up, pray. Any time you’re tempted to slip up on your fast, pray. Yep, it means you’re gonna pray more often. That’s the point.

Start abstaining for a day. Get to a point when a day isn’t really a challenge anymore; then escalate things to three days. Then a week. Then tackle a month, or 40 days, or Lent.

If you slip up, don’t start over, as if to punish yourself with more fasting. Fasting isn’t punishment! And stretching it out really isn’t gonna develop your self-control any more than usual. Give yourself some grace, same as God gives you, and just go back to fasting. Do better next time.

If it gets too easy, pick a different thing to give up. Like I said, coffee wasn’t all that hard for me to give up. Yet four years, that‘s what I did without, because I drink coffee so regularly. (Contrary to expectations, I eventually discovered going without coffee interferes with my prayer time, because I am so very thankful to Jesus for my coffee, and tell him so.) I’d grown too used to the idea, “It’s Lent, so no coffee.” That’s when I switched it to cheese; now it was a challenge again. Then sugar. Then bagels; that was a rough year.

Hey, some areas in our life are far more under our control than others. But everything we choose to do, should be wholly under our control—and we should be under Jesus’s control. So work on that self-control.