Sunday, March 01, 2009
Of Angels and Demons
The past week or so has seen thousands of people around the world, To a greater or lesser degree, embark on an age-old tradition, that of fasting. Just like our Muslim friends on 21st August or our Jewish ones on 28th September Christians the world over have begun a period where they deny themselves food and drink in different ways. Yet however old this practice and however wide-spread amongst just about all the world religions, the typical Westerner can only shake his head in disbelief: “Why would I voluntarily give up food and do so until it hurts?” Is it a hunger-strike, like the one performed in 1980 by Northern Irish prisoners, in the hope of getting the authorities’ attention, in this case God’s? Are Christians thinking they can somehow impress the creator of the universe by performing acts of self-denial?
A key Biblical text which might shed some light on this season is that of the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness: it is reported in the Gospels of Mark, Luke and Matthew. Jesus, e
arly on in his life, goes out into the desert to be tempted by the devil. The desert is of course a place of danger, emptiness and exposure. By going there and fasting Jesus gave up the protection of city, friends and family and allowed himself to be vulnerable. Suddenly he was alone, facing his weakness and mortality and confronting temptation. Similarly Christians believe that by taking a lengthy period (somewhere around seven weeks) of “fasting” they also get a glimpse of their own mortality and stare their demons in the face. As you try to give up food, drink or other pleasures you realize how dependent you are of them, how much different desires rule you.
But the question remains: “Why would you do this voluntarily? Surely only masochists engage in such practices, like fakirs sleeping on nails? It is one thing to be hungry because of poverty, another to not eat which the fridge is full?” All these objections are true, provided we look at fasting simply as a negative practice, that of “giving something up”. But the Biblical story mentioned earlier goes deeper: the point of the exercise is to understand that “man does not live by bread alone”. In other words, you engage the desert, you forego certain satisfactions, in order to grasp afresh what really feeds you, physically, emotionally, spiritually. Only when you make space in your stomach and in your life do you see what truly matters.
This would explain why Western capitalist societies have all but given up on the idea of fasting, except in the context of dieting in order to improve one’s shape. There almost seems to be a fear that if things quieted
down, if space for self-reflection were created, one might stare some ugly demons in the face. Surely most of us do not like all we see when we look inside ourselves; but ignoring it is as foolish and short-sighted as not going up into the attic because of the mess and leaking pipes we would find there. Hence the radical practice of some Christians at the beginning of this fast to put ashes on their forehead; by doing so they take what is darkest and most despicable inside themselves and wear it on their heads, thus saying “Oh boy, do I need this time for some spring cleaning of my soul”.
So why not try it for a year, and see what happens? Maybe angels will feed you as well as they did Jesus?
A key Biblical text which might shed some light on this season is that of the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness: it is reported in the Gospels of Mark, Luke and Matthew. Jesus, e
arly on in his life, goes out into the desert to be tempted by the devil. The desert is of course a place of danger, emptiness and exposure. By going there and fasting Jesus gave up the protection of city, friends and family and allowed himself to be vulnerable. Suddenly he was alone, facing his weakness and mortality and confronting temptation. Similarly Christians believe that by taking a lengthy period (somewhere around seven weeks) of “fasting” they also get a glimpse of their own mortality and stare their demons in the face. As you try to give up food, drink or other pleasures you realize how dependent you are of them, how much different desires rule you.But the question remains: “Why would you do this voluntarily? Surely only masochists engage in such practices, like fakirs sleeping on nails? It is one thing to be hungry because of poverty, another to not eat which the fridge is full?” All these objections are true, provided we look at fasting simply as a negative practice, that of “giving something up”. But the Biblical story mentioned earlier goes deeper: the point of the exercise is to understand that “man does not live by bread alone”. In other words, you engage the desert, you forego certain satisfactions, in order to grasp afresh what really feeds you, physically, emotionally, spiritually. Only when you make space in your stomach and in your life do you see what truly matters.
This would explain why Western capitalist societies have all but given up on the idea of fasting, except in the context of dieting in order to improve one’s shape. There almost seems to be a fear that if things quieted
down, if space for self-reflection were created, one might stare some ugly demons in the face. Surely most of us do not like all we see when we look inside ourselves; but ignoring it is as foolish and short-sighted as not going up into the attic because of the mess and leaking pipes we would find there. Hence the radical practice of some Christians at the beginning of this fast to put ashes on their forehead; by doing so they take what is darkest and most despicable inside themselves and wear it on their heads, thus saying “Oh boy, do I need this time for some spring cleaning of my soul”.So why not try it for a year, and see what happens? Maybe angels will feed you as well as they did Jesus?
