In this world, to Fast is really to Slow Down

 

The Lenten season has begun.  For the next six weeks, many people will give up favorite foods like coffee or chocolate, refrain from swearing or abstaining from reality television.  The idea of giving up something for Lent is to remind you of the sacrifice that Jesus made by dying for our sins. Theoretically this means that each time you reach for that cup of coffee, piece of chocolate or the remote to catch the latest shenanigans of Snooki, you will pause and remember the suffering of Jesus.

I used to give up chocolate; no small feat since Lent also happens to be the only time that Cadbury Mini Eggs are available.  These candy-coated delights used to be my own personal version of crack.  Once I began consuming them there was no stopping.  When my cupboard ran bare, I’d started “jonesing” for more, scanning supermarket and drug store aisles for that signature purple bag.  Rather than checking myself into Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew, Lent has proven to be the perfect opportunity to break myself of the Mini Egg habit by giving up chocolate. 

This year my church, the United Church of Christ in Norwell, is suggesting a different Lenten practice.  Rather than giving up one item for the entire length of Lent, they are asking members of the congregation to consider doing a series of targeted fasts, one each week until the season ends.

Week one suggests a food fast for a day, consuming nothing but water and fruit juices.  My first thought was “I can do this” followed immediately by, “Wait, is coffee a food?”  The description of this fast includes a tip about bringing aspirin or ibuprofen with you in case of headaches, so I’m guessing java is not part of the acceptable beverage list.  If I plan this carefully, designating my 24 hours to run from post-dinner one night to dinner the next, and schedule it on a workday where I won’t hear my chips and crackers and cookies calling me from the cabinet, I think I can make it.  All in all, it’s better for my body to have a food fast than fast food.

Week two suggests a technology fast.  No Internet, radio, television, computer or any other electrical device.  Oh dear.  I think a second food fast would be easier.  My computer sits on my counter running all day long, providing easy access for my multiple visits to Facebook, Pinterest and Regretsy.   I’d have to drive with no music in the car.  And no…(gulp)…television.  Is it cheating to set Tivo to record my favorite shows the night before and watch at a later time?  WWJD?

Week three is a carbon footprint fast.  Pick one day to refrain from driving or using electricity.  If weather permits, turn down the heat.  Eat cold meals. Don’t buy or use disposable products.  Think about what it takes to power our lives and reflect on how to reduce it.  This fast has been brought to you by Al Gore.  I inadvertently participated in a fast like this for two days when Hurricane Irene knocked out our power last summer.  This will also be a tough one.

Week four is a verbal fast.  Select a day when you can spend an extended period of time in silence.  When I described this to my husband, he carefully arranged his facial features in a neutral expression to avoid laughing.  In his mind I know he was thinking “good luck with that one!”  I believe of all the fasts, this one benefits my husband most; his own personal cross to bear is my constant conversation interruptions.  I’m intrigued by the idea of embracing silence, listening to the sounds of the natural world and listening for God.  My husband is intrigued by the idea that he might finally get to finish a sentence.

The final fast is a financial one.  Spend no money for an entire week, with the exception of gas and groceries.  As an impulse shopper, this one is tricky.  Like many, I often rely on “retail therapy” to ease boredom or relieve stress.  Could I go a week without buying a coffee, lunching with friends, or perusing the aisles of Ocean State Job Lot?   Could you?

Each of these fasts hits home in a very unique way.  As a society we have become complacent by our access to abundant food, modern conveniences and a cyber world that consumes an enormous amount of our time.  Stepping away from each of these things, if only for a day, will help me to better appreciate the blessings that God has given me.  And if I compare these small sacrifices with the one Jesus made, will they really be that difficult?

I’m excited to find out.