A HUNGER FOR GOD

ADVENT 2024: Fasting in Advent echoes the longing of our souls for the coming of the Savior

Milk and bread are pictured in an illustration photo. (OSV News photo/Thaier al-Sudani, Reuters) (Courtesy photo of Thaier al-Sudani)

Once upon a time, fasting was an expectation.

Prayer, almsgiving (charity) and fasting were seen by the early church as naturally supporting and completing each other. They’ve been called, in fact, the three pillars of Christian discipline. Jesus taught his disciples about fasting and clearly expected it of them: “But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to others to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden. And your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you” (Mt 6:17-18).

He said when you fast -- not if.

And that’s not even close to being all: The Hebrew Bible is filled with examples of God’s people fasting, and the first thing St. Paul did upon his conversion was -- you guessed it -- fast.
So how is it that fasting has slipped between the cracks, as it were, of our present-day Catholic spiritual traditions? Especially at those times when the church calls us to focus more intentionally on our spiritual lives -- Advent and Lent -- it sometimes feels as though fasting is simply one among many options. And not a particularly popular one, at that.

It’s true that the church has relaxed its rules around fasting, in terms of both when and how it’s done. These days, you’re only required to fast on two days -- Ash Wednesday and Good Friday -- and you’re even permitted one full meal on those days, which to many people doesn’t actually feel like such a great burden at all.

Because of those requirements, most Catholics associate fasting with Lent, but it's not the only penitential season in the church’s calendar. Advent leads up to a solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) that is second only to Easter in its importance. As such, it needs to be celebrated, as it were, with penance and preparation.

But especially in Advent, penance and preparation can be difficult to achieve. Every year, the commercial celebration of Christmas seems to begin earlier and earlier, with inescapable carols everywhere and the planning for Christmas shopping as a major life focus. And, honestly, you have to admit: The holiday season seems anything but penitential, with most people engaged in a great deal of excessive eating and drinking as they go from party to party.

But we’re called to do something else. Christians are not “most people.” We are called to be apart from the world, apart from what the world does. Christ is coming, and we use penance -- prayer, fasting and acts of charity -- in order to prepare ourselves as we await his birth. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (Lk 18:8).

Perhaps it is precisely in the way the secular world “does” Advent that makes this season such an appropriate one for fasting. If you’ve never thought much about fasting, or if you haven’t done so in a long time, then Advent is an excellent time and place to begin.

Fasting, more than any other discipline, does not let you forget for one moment what it is that you’re doing. You’re hungry. You feel deprived. Your body is reminding you that something is different, uncomfortable. That discomfort gives you focus. What better way is there to balance the excessive consumerism through which the world around you celebrates the season than with a constant reminder of what it is that we as Catholics are about now: the anticipation of the coming of the Lord?

In a sense, fasting isn’t about food itself as much as it’s about abstinence. You could, theoretically, fast from something other than food. And, in fact, the discipline of fasting doesn’t say that consuming the food of our choice is bad -- quite the contrary. Abstinence is the act of voluntarily giving up something that is good. It’s doing something that feels bad -- giving up something that we like and even that we need -- for a higher purpose.

It’s enabling the spirit to focus.

So why choose food? Well, have you noticed how you feel after a large meal? Sleepy, possibly uncomfortable, lethargic, distracted. Notice that these are all feelings that go against the spirit of Advent. Advent is a time of anticipation and watching, of preparing yourself spiritually, of holding your breath with the longing of centuries, waiting for the Messiah to arrive. You cannot wait and watch if you’re replete from a large meal.

Fasting doesn’t need to mean abstaining from all food. Though Jesus fasted in the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights, most of us would die with nothing. God wants us to survive!

Fasting does mean, however, abstaining from enough to allow you to keep coming back to the discomfort and, through it, to the reason for the discomfort. It keeps you coming back to God.

Have you heard the expression “give until it hurts?” Fasting is very much like that: give up until it hurts. Literally. Feel the hunger. Feel the discomfort. And feel the spiritual longing for the Son of God singing in your body and in your heart and in your soul.

There are many different ways to fast, and a good place to begin is by asking God for discernment: What kind of fast are you being called to this Advent?

The Bible gives examples of one-day, three-day, seven-day and 40-day fasts. But you’re not required to follow any of those. You can fast on Fridays, on Wednesdays and Fridays, or (in a modified way) every day.

Some people abstain from food altogether for short periods of time. Others give up one or two meals a day. Some even prefer to give up something that they love (chocolate, for example, or alcohol) while still having regular meals. Just be careful that you’re not using your fast as an aid to weight loss.

So what do you do instead of eating?

Use the energy of fasting. That may sound counterintuitive: It’s food that gives our bodies energy, so how can we be energized by fasting? Yet time and time again, in various religious traditions, people report that fasting brings them clarity of mind. An experiment at the University of Chicago showed an increase in mental alertness and better schoolwork performance when participants were fasting. So take advantage of that clarity and focus to open yourself up to new ways of being with God.

You spent time preparing and consuming the meals that you’re giving up. Use the gift of time that the discipline has given you in spiritually constructive ways. You might want to spend that time in Eucharistic adoration or other prayer, in reading Scripture, or in organizing an Advent discussion group.

You also spent money on the food you’re not consuming anymore. That money could well be spent this Advent on those people less fortunate than you.

Donating it to a local food bank or soup kitchen will help you address the needs of those for whom fasting is not optional, for whom the feeling of hunger is all too familiar.

You are not just abstaining from food in preparation for the coming of the Messiah; you are also echoing and remembering the centuries of longing as God’s people waited for his coming. At some point during the season, you’ll be singing the haunting “O Come, O Come Emmanuel … and ransom captive Israel / that mourns in lonely exile here.” We were indeed wandering a barren wilderness before the good news of Christ was revealed to us.

How do you feel that mourning? That sense of exile?

Fasting and Advent both remind us of that journey from darkness into light, from wandering into finding our home, from law into love. The longing of our bodies for food echoes the longing of our souls for the coming of the Savior. What more fitting way to live it out in our lives during this Advent season than through a fast?

Jeannette de Beauvoir writes from Massachusetts.