Today is the start of the liturgical season of Lent, and it has traditionally been a period of particular spiritual discipline for Christians. Though the Didache (from the end of the first century) recommends fasting for anyone preparing for baptism, this probably wasn’t settled as a pattern until the Council of Nicea in 325. A pattern then developed of those coming to faith using this period as a time of preparation and catechising (teaching) before baptism at Easter—an appropriate moment, since Paul reminds us in Romans 6.3–4 that we are baptised ‘into his death’—that is, as we go into the waters of baptism, we are united with Jesus in his death for us, and we ‘die’ to our old way of living, and as we come up out of the water, we start to live his new resurrection life by the power of the Spirit.
But what, exactly, does fasting mean? We need to note that our arrangement of the seasons of Lent and Easter do a rather odd thing: they stitch together the beginning and the end of Jesus’ ministry. We move from Lent to Easter, but Jesus did not go from the testing (and fasting) in the desert straight to the cross! Rather, there was an intervening period of ministry between the two, and in the gospels, Jesus’ fasting and testing was preparation for that.
It has become common to quote a saying attributed to the late Pope Francis:
Fast from hurting words and say kind words.
Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude.
Fast from anger and be filled with patience.
Fast from pessimism and be filled with hope.
Fast from worries and have trust in God.
Fast from complaints; contemplate simplicity.
Fast from pressures and be prayerful.
Fast from bitterness; fill your hearts with joy.
Fast from selfishness and be compassionate.
Fast from grudges and be reconciled.
Fast from words; be silent and listen.
But there are two problems with this. First, like many saying attributed to Francis (and Leo), he did not say this; it was circulating on the internet for at least four years prior. (Amazingly, memes are not authoritative sources of papal statements.)
Secondly, this list is not at all what fasting is about! The things to turn from here are sins (hurting others, anger, selfishness) or negative things, and when we turn from sin, this is called ‘repentance’ not ‘fasting’.
Fasting is about stopping doing things that are good—that are good gifts from God, like food—that normally we cannot do without, for a temporary period, to signify something. But signify what?
Prayer and fasting are often closely associated within the disciplines of Christian spirituality. This association finds its roots in Jesus’ teaching in the new Testament. In Matthew 6 part of what is known as the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus closely associates the disciplines of prayer, giving, and fasting under the umbrella title “acts of righteousness”.
When you give to the needy…when you pray…when you fast… (Matt 6.2, 5, 16).
Rather than propose the idea, Jesus appears to simply assume that these three disciplines are a regular part of life for his Jewish listeners. And Matthew, in recording them, assumes they will continue to be a natural part of life for all those who follow Jesus, both Jew and Gentile.
The association between the two in the early Church was strong enough for references to fasting to be added into some early manuscripts. In Mark 9.29, in response to the disciples’ question as to why they couldn’t deliver the unclean spirit from a boy, Jesus replies “this kind can only come out with prayer”. Some early copyists have added in the reference to fasting (you can see this in the footnotes to most English Bibles) and others have added the double reference to prayer and fasting in the parallel account in Matthew 17.21.
In the Old Testament, fasting is portrayed as an intense form of devotion at various points in the Old Testament, either as a regular but occasional act, though mostly in response to some kind of crisis.
The only positive mention of fasting is the first one. When Moses goes up Mount Sinai to be in the presence of God and receive the Ten Commandments, he fasts for 40 days and nights (Exodus 34.28)—an antecedent to Jesus’s fasting in the desert, which we often miss. (There is a remarkable Jewish tradition which says that, when Moses previously went into the presence of God with 70 elders, “they saw God, and they ate and drank” (Exodus 24.11) means that they actually fed on the presence of God himself. Perhaps this is what Moses was doing during those 40 days!)
The only mandatory period of fasting set out in the Torah is connected with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement:
The tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. Hold a sacred assembly and deny yourselves, and present a food offering to the LORD (Lev 23.27).
The phrase “deny yourselves” has been consistently interpreted as a reference to fasting, and this sets up the connection between fasting and repentance or mourning over our sins. More broadly than, fasting becomes a sign of grief and regret.
And so the people of Israel fast in repentance and grief when Samuel points out their sin (1 Sam 7.6) as well as when Saul and Jonathan are killed (2 Sam 1.12). Later in the narrative, King David fasts in repentance at his adultery and murder (2 Sam 12.16).
In exile, Daniel fasts and prays at his grief for the sin of his people (Dan 9.3). In the face of an unnamed sin and disaster, Joel calls the people to ‘fasting with weeping and mourning’ that they might again know God’s blessing (Joel 2.12–13). And when Esther decides to risk her life by pleading with the king for her people, she entreats all the Jews in the city to fast and pray on her behalf (Esther 4.16).
Fasting is an occasional sign of intense prayer, grief, and longing for God to act.
But by the time that we reached the New Testament, things seem to have radically changed. We can see the transition in the intertestamental period, in the book of Tobit (third or second century BC):
Prayer is good when accompanied by fasting, almsgiving, and righteousness. A little with righteousness is better than much with wrongdoing. It is better to give alms than to treasure up gold (Tobit 12.8)
Fasting has become a regular habit during this period, just at the time when messianic expectation was also growing—the hope that Israel would be delivered from its enemies, set free to worship in holiness, the people would be purified, and God would once again visit his people (Luke 1.74–75).
The regularity of fasting, and its association with messianic expectation, is confirmed in the gospels, especially the gospel of Luke. (Luke appears to have a particular interest in fasting, in keeping with his concern to highlight the importance of Jewish piety and practice—but also perhaps related to his interest in the work of the Spirit and the transformation this brings…?)
Early on his ministry, Jesus and his disciples are criticised for not fasting in the same way that both the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist fast. In Mark 2.18, the accusation is a general one, but in Luke’s gospel, the issue becomes clearer:
John’s disciples often [Greek: pukna, frequently] fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking (Luke 5.33).
Luke goes on to tell us what “often” actually means; in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, we hear the Pharisee both proudly “I fast twice a week” (Luke 18.12). And from that early Christian teaching document mentioned above, the Didache, we even know which day the Pharisees fasted on:
Chapter 8: But let not your fasts be with the hypocrites, for they fast on the second and fifth day of the week [Monday and Thursday]. Rather, fast on the fourth day and the Preparation [Wednesday and Friday].
In response, Jesus makes it clear that fasting is a sign of longing for the Messiah; now that he is with them, they can enjoy feasting! But when he is gone, and they long for his return, that is the time to fast again.
We are therefore not surprised to find that fasting regularly accompanies prayer amongst the early Jesus followers, not only as a routine part of their devotion, but also in preparation for particular times of ministry, for example Acts 13.1–3:
Now in the church at Antioch there were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen (who had been brought up with Herod the tetrarch) and Saul. While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” So after they had fasted and prayed, they placed their hands on them and sent them off.
Notice that the Christians in Antioch here are not fasting as a sign of repentance, but as a sign of devotion to God and anticipation of what he will do; having fasted and prayed for Paul and Barnabas, they then see a remarkable work of God in the spreading of the Word through their ministry.
This practice of regular, intermittent fasting has continued in the life of the church. John Wesley would not ordain anyone who didn’t follow the practice set out in the Didache of fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays:
For a portion of John Wesley’s ministry, he advocated fasting on both Wednesday and Friday each week as a regular spiritual discipline. It’s fairly well known that Wesley would not ordain anyone to the Methodist ministry who was unwilling to fast those days.
But as time passed, Wesley fasted mostly on Fridays, which was the Anglican norm. (Actually, as early as August 1739, he advocated Friday fasting for Methodists in his journal, according to the Anglican rule.)
Wesley usually began a Friday fast at sundown on Thursday. This was in continuity with Jewish and early Christian tradition, which both marked the beginning of the day at sundown, not midnight. Wesley typically ended his fast at 3:00 p.m. on Friday.
Fasting from food was not unknown in the ancient world—but as Eliezer Diamond notes (Holy Men and Hunger Artists, p 130) the idea of regular fasting would have seemed odd to most in Graeco-Roman culture. The majority would have seen no need for it, whilst certain ascetic groups did practice fasting, but as a sign of detachment from the world. Intermittent fasting says something different.
For Christians, ‘feast’ days celebrated a world made by God and all the good in it; alongside this, ‘fast’ days signify a sense of longing for deliverance. Feasting tells us that God made a good world as a gift to us, but fasting says that there is a new world coming, a new creation which we have begun to experience (2 Cor 5.17), which we long to see fully revealed (Romans 8.23). We move from the one to the other all through Lent, since Sundays remain feast days, islands within the discipline of fasting, and this is just the sort of practice you might adopt if you were awaiting the coming of a Messiah and the hope of the age to come. Intermittent fasting is the dietary expression of the ‘now and not yet’ of the kingdom of God (or, to use a theological term, the ‘partially realised eschatology’) we find in the New Testament.
We do not fast from things that are wrong; these call for repentance. Instead we fast from the good things God has given us, because we know there is better to come. We fast in anticipation of an answer to the prayer: ‘Your name be hallowed, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven’! On that day, we will feast in the very presence of God himself.
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Ian, thanks for this. Do you know when the “Anglican norm” of fasting on Fridays died out? I don’t see anyone in the CofE these days advocating for, or practicing this. When we did we go lax on fasting?
What a good question. No, I do not know when or why.
Thank you. Can you say a little more about how abstaining from good things now prepares us for better things later? That’s one thing I’ve never understood. Every time I’ve tried to fast, it makes me angry and resentful and I hate it so I don’t do it any more.
I think in several ways.
First, it reminds us that this world is not all there is, and that our lives are ‘hid with Christ’ (Col 3.3). Don’t be seduced by the merely material.
Secondly, the actual hunger we feel reminds us a greater hunger: for the righteousness of the kingdom of God. ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…’ (Matt 5)
Thirdly, although we need food to sustain our bodies, the real food we need to sustain us is God himself, offered to us in the person of Jesus (see the dialogue in John 6).
We might add a fourth, which is that being hungry reminds us that there are many who are hungry in the world. But I think Scripture points us to the first three.
Does that help?
I used to think that. But now I think the anger and resentment were there all the time and fasting just revealed it. Fast – the anger bubbles up – deal with that in repentance and prayer – you’ve now humbled yourself before God and he has lifted you up.
I don’t feel any of that if I fast now, even for several days, and I attribute that to God’s grace and a certain measure of spiritual growth.
AI Overview on ANGLICAN FASTS
Anglicans have not officially abolished the requirement for Friday fasting, but rather it has largely fallen out of practice
due to a shift in emphasis toward voluntary, personal discipline over rigid, legalistic rules. While the Anglican Book of Common Prayer historically designates all Fridays as days of “fasting or abstinence” in memory of Christ’s crucifixion, adherence to this in modern Anglicanism varies greatly.
Here are the primary reasons why, in practice, many Anglicans have moved away from Friday fasting:
Shift from Rule to Individual Choice: Following the Reformation, and accelerating in the 20th century, Anglicanism moved away from binding, mandatory fasting laws. The church often emphasizes that such disciplines are voluntary acts of devotion (self-denial) rather than legal obligations.
Emphasis on “Substance” over “Form”: The focus has shifted from the specific, mechanical rule of avoiding meat on Fridays to the broader spiritual concept of “penance” or “self-denial”. Many Anglicans focus on giving something up, or taking up a discipline (like charity), rather than merely changing their diet.
Cultural and Social Changes: As secular society became less tied to religious traditions, and as meat stopped being treated as a rare, special luxury in modern, affluent societies, the traditional act of “not eating meat” lost its effectiveness as a form of “penance” for many, leading them to choose other, more personal ways to mark the day.
Influence of Low Church/Evangelical Traditions: A significant portion of the Anglican Communion (such as many evangelicals) prioritizes internal faith over external, ritualistic, and ascetic practices, which can lead to a less formal approach to fasting.
“Common Worship” Guidelines: In some areas, updated prayer books (like the Church of England’s Common Worship) focus on “days of discipline and self-denial,” allowing for flexibility, although they still specifically mention every Friday in the year.
Despite this shift, many Anglicans—particularly in Anglo-Catholic parishes—still observe Friday abstinence (giving up meat) or fasting, and the tradition of Friday as a day of penitence remains part of the church’s teaching.
As Ian documents that there are several aspects of Fasting in Scripture.
What interests me is not what are the benefits but what are the effects and affects of Fasting of which there are
Several in the Scriptures.
Daniel humbled himself to identify with the failings and misfortunes of his people, gained insight into the
King’s unknown dreams
In Acts the church engaging in fastings were just “ministering to the Lord”[who does that today?]
The Holy Spirit gave a command, which after further prayer and fasting confirmed some to other ministries
Prayer and fasting releases something powerful as in the case of Daniel and the angel messenger.
Releases the power to overcome the principalities and powers hence to being “led about in victory”
Saint Augustine says
“Fasting cleanses the soul, raises the mind, subjects one’s flesh to the spirit, renders the heart contrite and humble, scatters the clouds of desire, quenches the fire of lust, and kindles the true light of chastity.”
C. H. Spurgeon says
Our seasons of fasting and prayer at the tabernacle have been high days indeed; never has heaven’s gate stood wider; never have our hearts been nearer the central glory!”
Richard Foster
“Although the physical aspects of fasting intrigue us, we must never forget that the major work of scriptural fasting is in the realm of the spirit. What goes on spiritually is much more important than what is happening bodily. Fasting can bring breakthroughs in the spiritual realm that will never happen in any other way.”
By denying ourselves and seeking God’s will through prayer and fasting, we are able to break strongholds, overcome temptation, and experience victory over the enemy. Through prayer and fasting, we are able to align our will with God’s will, and tap into the spiritual power that He has given us as believers.
I would add, to break yokes and iron bars and gates of brass. To obtain grace and mercy for all issues.