I have a complicated relationship with fasting. In fact, I haven’t taken up the Lenten practice for many years. Throughout my life I have found myself fasting from whole meals, sleep, and other important self-care practices in order to help others, and to prove myself a valued member of many communities. Living in a culture that values progress and productivity, I often believed that what my body was telling me it needed (physically, emotionally, and/or spiritually) was nowhere near as important as what others wanted or needed from me.
Additionally, I think it’s safe to say the Lenten practice of fasting has become a complicated practice for many people during this pandemic. We deeply long to end our fast from human touch, from the sound of our collective voices raising up songs and praise, and from the table where we taste and see God’s goodness in bread and wine. How much fasting is really called for in a time such as this?
During my pastoral internship last year, I learned how powerful it is when worship is an embodied experience – one that engages not just our ears and eyes, but all our senses. And some of the best sensory opportunities present themselves during feast days and seasonal observances. For instance, our Lenten journey begins with the smell and feeling of ashes trailing down our foreheads and the sound of mortality echoing in our ears: “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
As I ponder the wisdom and truths that come with fine-tunning our senses, I have a greater appreciation for Psalm 139, which reminds me that God’s Word has been woven into my being before I drew my first breath:
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well. (139:14)
I am confident that all of God’s creation is indeed fearfully and wonderfully made. God, in Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit, formed you and me out of the nothingness of the primordial dust. The wonder of God’s Word is woven into our flesh and bones in ways that only our flesh and bones can teach us. By taking time to “listen” to what our bodies are telling us – by prayerfully engaging all our senses – we can witness the life-giving ways God’s Word is moving in us.
So, even though Lent is traditionally a time of fasting, I’m giving myself permission to feast this year, but not on the traditional things I might normally give up for Lent. By slowing down and paying attention to my body, I am learning how to see, taste, hear, smell, and feel the ways God continually sustains my whole being each and every day.
Daniel Grainger
Final Year MDiv Student
Wartburg Associated Students (WAS) President
Wartburg Theological Seminary
