Hello, beloved friends of the Diocese of Olympia.

We’re about to begin our 40-day journey in the wilderness, and often the conversation turns to things that we might give up for Lent, the things we might fast from. Sometimes it’s a particular food item like chocolate or meat. Other people get more creative, like giving up social media or from purchasing unnecessary items. My personal favorite response came from a youth group member who said he was gonna be fasting from doing his homework. Often, though, we don’t talk about actually fasting from food on both Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. In fact, as a clergy person, I’ve heard the importance of not fasting on those days in order to not pass out at the altar during a service.

It was my relationships with my Muslim neighbors that really changed my thinking. An interfaith group I was a part of hosted community iftar dinners, and I decided to fast for the day in solidarity with my friends. It meant getting up early and eating and drinking before sunrise in order to abstain from both food and water throughout the daylight hours. When we broke the fast that evening with the dates and then a cup of cold water, I realized how challenging that would be to do for an entire month. My Muslim neighbors did this together, often hosting iftar dinners at their homes and making sure to think about the needs of those who go without food. The solidarity for them was in being with one another in that fast, as well as engaging in acts of charity. Not once did I meet an imam who decided to forego the fast because they were leading the service. Similarly, I couldn’t imagine the local Jewish rabbi, my friend, Rabbi Rachel, choosing to eat during Yom Kippur. Instead, I learned that the traditional greeting to give was, “May your fast be easy.” And so I would send it to her over email as the day drew near, knowing she’d go 25 hours without food on that day.

That’s when I began to take more seriously the call to forego food during our Christian fast days, as an adherent of the Abrahamic faith tradition. All of us who count Abraham and Sarah as our forebearers recognize the need to abstain from food for a time in order to recognize our dependence on the Almighty. My own practice has been to begin my fast after dinner on the preceding day, so after Shrove Tuesday pancakes and the Maundy Thursday meal, and then to break it after the evening service on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. I still drink water and coffee on those days. And I’ve learned to take it easy and not do too much. And not once have I passed out at the altar. Additionally, I tend to eat less during the other 38 days.

For this, I follow the advice of Pastor Chris Seay, who describes a Lenten fast in his book, A Place at the Table: 40 Days of Solidarity with the Poor. Chris suggests that throughout Lent, we eat as those who are poorer, how they might eat, building meals perhaps around rice and beans, or in a similar more simple way. This year I’ll be eating soup for lunch and dinner throughout Lent, remembering how soup kitchens were the designation for places that feed those in need. Chris then invites us to make a donation with the money that we aren’t spending on services that impact the poor either in our neighborhoods or wider afield. And finally, he encourages us to feast each Sunday throughout Lent since Sundays aren’t included in the 40-day count. And as a way to remember that even those who are poor engage in times of celebration throughout the year, and especially as we remember the love and resurrection of Jesus.

So, friends, I invite you to join with me in either one or both of these endeavors. We are called to remember our dependence on God for all of our needs, and also to fast from the bonds of injustice in our world through our solidarity with the poor. We do these things not to show our own fortitude, but to be more faithful and follow in the way of Jesus, who himself fasted for 40 days in the wilderness. Our hope is that we will come out on the other side more aware of our own vocations and with a desire to live faithfully as Jesus’s disciples. I hope you’ll join with me in this work, and I look forward to hearing your stories.

May you have a blessed and holy Lent.