Like many
other “second-order” virtues, fasting is spiritually beneficial principally
because of what it enables us to do, or learn, or achieve, rather than
intrinsically, in its own right. Fasting assists us in prayer by a) clearing
the mind, b) by removing certain common physiological and psychological shackles
to concentrated and sustained prayer, and c) by putting us back in touch with
the reality of our genuine dependence upon God’ providence, instilling in us a
sense of humility and realism about our factual situation as created beings. In
addition to these more practical benefits, fasting is also important as an
obedience, one which builds character by instilling in us the more general
virtue of self-restraint, giving us practice in setting our own desires to one
side for the purpose of fulfilling God’s will. Finally, fasting is a momentary
and deliberate mode of participation in a higher life, a paradisical life, in
which the death, pain, and suffering of other creatures is not a condition for
human survival – a moment which both forshadows the final eschaton, and looks
backwards to the life of Adam and Eve before the fall, enabling those of us who
have not taken upon ourselve the more demanding obligations of the monastic
life, a temporary mode of participation in that ascetical ideal. For all of
these reasons, fasting is important, and indeed, obligatory for Orthodox
Christians.*
This
week, I’d like to specifically address the question of precisely how fasting
helps us in the art of prayer. To a great extent, this assistance is
physiological in character. One of the general results of reduced food intake
is that the body begins, instead of burning ingested calories, to use resources
already stored in the body as fat for food. This biological process, called
ketosis, was absolutely essential for human survival during periods of want,
and was found by most ancient cultures, including the ancient Jews, to be
highly effective for clearing the mind from some of its customary frenetic
activity, and for encouraging a certain degree of dispassion (in that one finds
it easier not to obsess about what one “wants”). Both of these effects are, for
obvious reasons, helpful in one’s religious life.
Fasting
also helps one stay alert, since while one is fasting one is not subject to the
usual glut of high calories after one’s meals, and so not as strongly affected
by a desire to sleep after eating. This too, is useful, both for staying awake
during private prayer, and during the public services of the Church, which tend
to be more frequent during the fasting periods.
Amazingly
enough, fasting even helps one be less concerned about eating and, once one is
accustomed to it, less distracted by food. Biologically speaking, in addition
to helping one burn body fat, ketosis also has the advantage of helping one
feel less hungry and helping one to maintain muscle tone. So fasting, when
taken seriously, actually helps one overcome one’s obsession with food itself.
This is, I think, helpful for people to know, since I find that converts, for
instance, are often afraid to keep the fast for fear of dealing with the
discomfort of actual hunger. This is not generally a problem, for simple
biological reasons related to ketosis.
The part
of us that fasting usually causes to suffer is the part of us that wants to be
constantly entertained and catered to – and, of course, this is one of the very
aspects of our character that we are seeking to overcome through fasting and
prayer in the first place.
To be
fair, ketosis, as a sustained biological process, is usually not fully entered
into save after a somewhat longer period of extended or complete fasting, which
is why the so called “Ninevite Fast” (a complete three-day fast) at the
beginning of Lent was customary for Orthodox Christians of the past and also
why a regimen of no more than two small meals a day was proscribed for weekdays
during Lent. When fasting is practiced in such a way, in its fullness, as it
were, so that one begins to realize the degree of one’s fundamental dependence
upon God and the kindly benefits of His sheltering and nurturing creation, then
we are also given a visceral sense of our own habitual ingratitude and the
goodness of God’s creation. Without such additional efforts, however, the
practical impact of fasting on our prayer life may be relatively small, and difficult
to perceive, and this appears to have led many in the modern Church to question
its usefulness on empirical grounds. Those of the faithful who have made use of
the traditional fasting practices of the Church in their fullness, however, are
well aware of the prayerful and dispassionate benefits of the practice. If you
don’t believe me – go ask any monastic!
In any
case, fortunately there are other benefits of fasting available even to those
of us who do nothing more than keep the basic fasting rules regarding what
types of food may or may not be eaten on given days. I’ll discuss that more
next week.
Source: http://www.ocf.net/why-we-fast-purifying-our-prayer/
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