Fasting is defined as ‘the act of willingly abstaining from some or all food, drink or both, for a period of time.’ Photo: theilr / flickr CC
Time without food
Raymond Mgadzah considers the experience of fasting
My stomach is grumbling. It is lunchtime on Wednesday. Nothing unusual about that except that, for the past few weeks, I have been fasting: once a week with no food between 6am and 5pm. Only water permitted. I have to push back my thoughts of eating lunch again.
Fasting is defined as ‘the act of willingly abstaining from some or all food, drink or both, for a period of time.’ An absolute fast is abstinence from all food and liquid for a defined period, usually a single day, or several days. Other fasts can be only partially restrictive or limiting particular foods and substances. The fast may also be intermittent in nature. Fasting may preclude sexual and other activities as well as food.
Although I attend a Quaker Meeting I also go to the Pentecostal church to which my mother goes. I am fasting because the pastor at my mother’s church has suggested that I need to do so in order to help me overcome some personal difficulties. I am required to fast for forty Wednesdays – echoing Jesus’s forty days in the wilderness. Needless to say, by comparison with Jesus’s fasting I should have little to grumble about. But this is not so. When I started my fasting I did not know what to expect. Now, I find myself having to get out of bed before 6am and prepare a hasty meal for the day. For me, the chosen meal is a bowl of cereal and a glass of fruit juice. At that time of day my appetite is weak.
Facing the challenges
The first major hurdle is tea and biscuits at around 11am, but compared to the impact of missing lunch this is a minor obstacle. I have to turn down offers of tea or coffee in the office of the Friend magazine where I work as a volunteer.
Although fasting does not seem to be part of the Quaker tradition, the fact that I am fasting has elicited some interest. Many know that fasting and prayer are an old combination.
Having dispensed with missing lunch, the next big hurdle is tea around 4pm. I have to push aside thoughts of mouth-watering tea and biscuits, my confidence buoyed by the fact that by that time I am on the home stretch. But I am also clock-watching and, because of that, time appears to slow down to a snail’s pace.
By now, my mother, who doesn’t rate my cooking and is also fasting, will be busy preparing a Zimbabwean meal. The smell of frying meat as she prepares a traditional stew is complemented by that wafting from the rice and potatoes that she is also preparing.
At exactly 5pm I gulp a glass of fruit juice. It tastes great for having been anticipated for most of the day. Then the meal itself. At the beginning I savour every mouthful: boiled rice, boiled greens, a beef stew cooked and fried with tomatoes and onions. Because of my hunger the flavour of the food seems to be heightened.
As a spiritual discipline
There is something satisfying about completing even just one day’s fasting. A day without food focuses the mind on the challenges faced by those forced to do without it. It helps underline the question that if one day’s fasting is so demanding, what about those who live in hunger?
My fasting has coincided with a famine in East Africa. The media is full of images of starving people and livestock. Comparing this to voluntary fasting, some may argue, verges of bad taste. Yet fasting has a long spiritual tradition. It has existed for centuries also among many faiths.
For Quakers, some commentators link fasting to eating for nourishment not pleasure, arguing that both come from a notion that in eating simply we focus on God and seek joy in God, not in food. Even George Fox grappled with the issue of eating simply and fasting. In his journal he said, ‘I might not eat and drink to make myself wanton but for health.’
Quakers are not alone. Many other faiths also observe periods of fasting: among them Catholics, Bahá’í, Islam and Greek Orthodox. For Muslims, the period of obligatory fasting is the month of Ramadan. Daily observance starts before the break of dawn and ends immediately after sunset. For Christians there are many biblical accounts of fasting. In addition to Jesus being tempted by the devil during forty days in wilderness Moses also fasted for a similar period, twice back to back, without food or water.
There are many other accounts of fasting in the Bible. The ‘acceptable fast’ is discussed in the Book of Isaiah, chapter 58:3-7. In summary, it means to afflict the soul through abstaining from fulfilling the needs or wants of the flesh. The opening chapter of the Book of Daniel, vv.8-16, describes a partial fast and its effects on the health of its observers.
In his journal, George Fox – speaking of the period early in his 1647 wanderings – said ‘I fasted much, and walked abroad in solitary places many days and often took my Bible and went and sat in the hollow trees and lonesome places.’
In his book, A Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster says fasting can help keep balance in our lives. He suggests that fasting may be a spiritual discipline leading to further freedom in some although it can be medically dangerous for others such as diabetics and expectant mothers.
As a personal experience
Stumbling out of bed earlier than usual is perhaps the greatest challenge with fasting. The fact that I am only doing this once a week means that I am disrupting my everyday schedule without fully replacing it.
My experience of fasting once a week has given me an appreciation of the challenge faced by those who fast for longer periods of time. I admire their faith and stamina. But even one day’s fasting enables me to disengage from the consumerism of our society, albeit for a short time.
After breaking my fast by eating my meal I sit back in my chair satisfied, but I know that next week’s fast already looms…
