Rhythms in Lenten Fasting

The Lenten season begins later than usual this year. Instead of starting our fast during the bitter days of February, we’ll begin in early March – with maple syruping, longer days, and hopefully, the occasional burst of springtime temperatures to comfort us. As I write this, the harsh winds of February are blowing against my little house, making this cold day feel even colder. In this weather, I’m grateful to be able to still make hot milk steamers, chicken noodle soup, and tea cakes. All the winter comfort foods that keep us feeling cozy in the cold. But Lent is coming up quickly, and it’s time to start preparing ourselves for the fast.

In my family, we embrace a traditional form of fasting that cuts out all animal products – except honey, and occasionally fish – refined sugars, and, on certain days, oils and wine. On paper, it sounds pretty extreme. In practice, it brings a comforting ritual to the weeks of Lent: each day has a different tone.

Fasting Rhythms

Instead of 40 days that stretch out in meatless sorrow before us, we have a checkerboard of various levels of fasting. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are the most penitential – with no animal products, no oil, no wine. We tend to eat simple bread and soup meals on these days – hearty vegetable soups with lentils or beans in abundance. On Tuesdays and Thursdays the fast is lighter – we can add oil to the table. Fried potatoes, falafel, pastas, and stir-fries are common fare. On Saturdays and Sundays our fast is almost indulgent. We can have oil, wine, and fish. These are the days we sear up salmon, devour fish tacos, or eat smoked whitefish with onions and capers. On the weekends, we have the chance to refresh our tired souls and bodies without breaking fast and losing heart. The checkerboard of fasting – in which hard days are followed by easier ones; and restful days precede challenges makes the whole season feel more intentional.

Our souls love cyclical rituals, like the calendar of the year or the rising and setting of the sun. Within every year we have the seasons, and within each season we have days and weeks full of mini-rituals that give color and consistency to our days. In Lent, a gently shifting fast can add richness and comfort to the challenges of penance.

Finding Your Rhythm

If you don’t have a fasting tradition in your family, it can be hard to develop one. For many of us, Lenten fasting has become simply another attempt at dieting, or a determined attempt to avoid dieting. Other times, we just stick to the bare minimum – fasting from candy or sweets like we did as children. But fasting is meant to retrain our appetites as well as offer up our discomforts. Our fasts should grow with us.

In my own tradition, there are structured ways to gradually build upon a fasting practice, to continue to train our appetites and focus our devotions. Church history is full of guidance for the would-be faster. We have heroes of fasting, like St. Francis, St. Catherine, St. Anthony, and St. Mary of Egypt. We also have the struggling fasters, like St. Jerome and the Young Monk under St. Francis’ care – who couldn’t quite match the intensity of their inspirations. The Church welcomes both – and everyone in between – while calling us all towards a fuller imitation of Christ.

If you haven’t fasted or abstained in a deeply challenging way before, it might be too much to jump into a Lent without any animal products, eating one meal a day. You can go for it! But if you end up in tears on the second Monday of Lent, be gentle on yourself. Make a cozy cup of chamomile tea with a big dollop of honey and spend some time in prayer. A simple “O Jesus, I surrender myself to You” is often the perfect prayer for times when you feel like you’re failing at Lent.

Learning from Francis

There’s a story from the Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi about a young monk who was struggling with the exuberant fasting in the Franciscan Order. At some point, his attempts to fast like St. Francis overwhelmed him and Francis noticed. So, rather than shame the young brother and draw attention to his weakness, Francis ordered all the brothers to break fast and share a light supper. This gentle response to human weakness should inspire us as we train our bodies to fast. If your fasting regime becomes too much for you to maintain, break it gently and without condemnation. Remember that the only required abstinence is from meat on Fridays (and Ash Wednesday). Remember that while all of Lent is a fasting season, you aren’t mandated to fast properly, except on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. Everything else is important to the season, but not prescribed. So if you jump into my fasting tradition this Lent, and end up pouring olive oil on your bread on the third Friday of the season, give yourself grace. Humility, acknowledging your own weaknesses, is also an essential aspect of the season.

In fact, St. Francis himself is famous for this in one of his Lenten retreats. He went into a quiet place during Lent one year – to fast and pray in imitation of Christ. He brought two loaves of bread with him. Early in the season, he ate one loaf of bread, lest he become too proud of fasting as well as Christ. The second loaf he kept as a constant source of temptation.

Embracing the Cross

Lent is a journey to the Cross. It’s supposed to be challenging. It’s supposed to push us out of comfort and into the heart of Christ. Maybe you can fast from meat, but not eggs and dairy this Lent. Maybe you can fast from red meat and pork, while keeping chicken and fish on the menu (that’s what my parents do). Maybe you’ll give up animal products three days a week. Challenge yourself with your fast – offer those challenges up for the Pope in his illness, suffering neighbors and friends, or whatever is weighing on your heart this season. Each Lent offers new opportunities to suffer with and for our suffering world. Let’s take that opportunity seriously and embrace the great fast with enthusiasm.