I’m now of an age where I am no longer bound to the Lenten fast, which I ruefully confess is a relief. It had become more and more of a struggle over the last few years and what was once a minor irritation, a useful chafe on my conscience, took on an outsized importance. I’ve traded the fast for other disciplines that remind to think of those for whom hunger is not a choice, of those who are bound to yokes that exhaust them.
But it has me wondering if I should have given up on the traditional fast with such alacrity. When should a discipline be discarded? When it is too hard? I talk to students about the “zone of proximal development,” when an assignment is tough enough to leave them feeling delighted with their ability to master it, but not so difficult that all they are is frustrated. And fasting certainly pushed me out of my zone.
This unsparing reading from Isaiah suggests that the Lenten fasting we are called to isn’t really a discipline at all, it’s not meant to teach me something, it’s meant to accomplish something. I’m meant to turn away from sin, turn away from my own needs and see to the needs of my sisters and brothers. So, how have I fasted today?
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