Father Michael's Column

As I said in last week’s article that I might do, I have some additional suggestions for Lenten practices. Since we’re already 1-1/2 weeks into Lent, and especially if you’re finding yourself bogged down spiritually, you might find these suggestions especially helpful—although they are also a great practice if you want to put your Lenten observance into high gear.

Has to do with sacrifice. Specifically, the kind of sacrifice that all adults are expected to do on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. It’s called fasting. Sometimes, this is just the thing to get a sluggish spirituality moving again (or for the first time!). Although Catholics are not obliged to fast, except on those two special days—and then, only if you are a healthy adult age 18 through 59—it sure can be a powerful experience when it’s done properly and with the proper intention. And yes, even though I’m well over 60, I still do this and find it very helpful. 

By the way, “sacrifice” does not necessarily mean what a lot of people think it means. It comes from the Latin, sacra facere, which simply means “to make holy”. So, loosely interpreted, Lenten sacrifices are those special practices which help make you holy! They’re not all terribly unpleasant (you know, God isn’t made happy by our making ourselves miserable), although sometimes a sacrifice can involve a fair amount of discipline.

Such is the case with an ancient form of sacrifice, fasting. If you have never really fasted, I highly recommend trying it as a way of breaking past spiritual roadblocks. I remember the late Fr. Ed Farrell, a noted author and retreat master, mentioning how sometimes when he would give a retreat, on the second or third day, he would recommend complete fasting from sunup until sundown. Often, that day would be the “breakthrough”.

Similarly, a Lenten fast on a particular day—or regularly—could have the same kind of result. Naturally, any kind of medical condition such as high or low blood sugar precludes the idea of fasting. 

Church law, which specifies what is required, is specific about what is expected when fasting: you may eat one meal that day (and no snacking). Two smaller meals, not equaling a full meal, may be taken to maintain strength. But such laws are minimums, and we sometimes find ourselves playing games with them. A person can be tempted to see whether it’s possible to fulfill the law, and fast, without feeling hungry! (For example, eating a lot at the “smaller meals” and then eating even more at the “big meal”, but still not as much as the two smaller ones combined! Presto! Fulfilled the law—but missed the point.)

On the contrary, what I’m urging is: simply don’t eat. (Or, if that’s not possible, significantly reduce the food intake.) Let the hunger happen. Don’t try to avoid it; rather, consciously, translate the hunger into a sort of physical prayer: “Lord, let me hunger for you; let me thirst for your word”. Or again: “I’m not going to be preoccupied with seeking the satisfaction of my own needs. Lord, You take care of sustaining me.” Fasting, you see, must always be a prayerful experience. It should never be just an exercise in pain to no purpose. The time saved in a day (by not eating) should be used for prayer or doing some work of the Lord. The money saved on your food bill could be given to the poor. You can drop such savings in the St. Vincent de Paul Poor Boxes, for example. 

I remember reading a portion of a sermon by St. Peter Chrysologus (his name means “golden-tongued”), who wrote the following:



“Prayer, mercy and fasting: these three are one, and they give life to each other…. When you fast, see the fasting of others. If you want God to know that you are hungry, know that another is hungry. If you hope for mercy, show mercy. If you look for kindness, show kindness. If you want to receive, give. If you ask for yourself what you deny to others, your asking is a mockery. Therefore, let prayer, mercy, and fasting be one single plea to God on our behalf, one speech in our defense, a threefold united prayer in our favor.” 

In short, fasting must be done for religious reasons, a sacrifice that makes us holy. 

“Prayer” and “fasting” should practically be seen as one word. They go together, sort of like peanut butter and jelly—or more pointedly, like bread and wine.

In Jesus, 
Fr. Michael

P.S. I once again urge your daily prayers for the success of our offertory initiative, “Committed to Christ—Giving Gratefully”. Please pray especially for those families who have fallen away from the full practice of their faith, that they will be drawn back to share the Eucharist with us. And THANK GOD ahead of time for how he is going to bless our parish!