What I find somewhat ironic though, is that in my experience, some evangelical churches who shun rituals and liturgy for fear of turning them into acts of legalism, often have an “unspoken” culture of rituals and legalism. The difference is that these “laws” are not always publically sanctioned from the pulpit (though sometimes they are; I can’t tell you how many “thou shalt not let alcohol touch thy lips” sermons I’ve heard as if it were the 11th commandment.) Evangelical rituals tend to be done for reasons of outward personal piety rather than a truly spiritual discipline (if someone can explain to me how refraining from dancing or dresses only for women during church hours is a spiritual discipline pointing to the new covenant, I’d love to hear it). All that to say, no matter what side of the liturgical fence we find ourselves, legalism loves to find it’s way into our spiritual lives.

Not just mine, but everybody’s. Spiritual discipline, of which fasting and rosaries and vigils are all a part, are as much an art as an effort, and a lifetime of sitting in the pews has me convinced that learning discipline requires some kind of Disciplinarian, some kind of authority whose dictums create a culture, a place/time where that fitness can be achieved. Like a high school PE class or a fat camp, the fast (and all the other liturgical praying/teaching exercises that come up over the year) is something the Surgeon General of the RCC strongly suggests to us for our own health and fitness.

And like a high school PE class, most of us are walking around the track and socializing instead of running like it’s a race (Hebrews 12?) – and we live in a world where God, our benevolent coach, is merciful on us even when we forget to dress out. However, we’re obligated not to skip it, even if for the moment, in our awkward teenagery willfulness, we view the whole affair as an inconvenience and would just as soon not fast.

Most of us spend our lives being as lazy about our faith as we are about our bodies, and go about both in a sad, comfortable hypocrisy: like fat people in sweat pants, we show the world a pretense of an athletic lifestyle that we embrace only for the pathetic convenience of getting to wear pants with an elastic waistband.

A fast is like having your church tell you, in no uncertain terms, to take a lap whether you like it or not. Obedience is the sure sign that we, spiritually sloppy and physically corpulent as we let ourselves become, in fact do retain some LITTLE portion of that chrismal Christian dignity that our Baptismal whites were meant to signify – that we may actually USE our sweatclothes to WORK IN. The fast is a way to allow ourselves to be reminded that we began this Christian life in training for something – that our bodies and minds are God’s and are good and fit for work, and that we can trust the Church to train us to be spiritually healthy as we do trust in Jesus to make us pure.

Or so I think.

That’s what this site is all about.

Sally: That’s the fast God is talking about in Isaiah 58. Excellent.

Amen.

(from The Essential Lenten Handbook: A Daily Companion, 2000, Ligouri)

1. iMonk, thank you for this post.

2. Having seen the notion of fasting = “better”/”holier” prayer carried to foolish lengths, it’s a relief to see you debunking that notion.

3. It’s a relief to know that I wasn’t as alone as I thought, back when I didn’t fast as directed.

In some ways, Vatican Council II was the incredible victory of several of the criticisms made by the Reformers. Let’s face it, many of the statements of Vatican Council II were careful rewordings of the Council of Trent (and some previous local synods) to bring them more into line with a Biblical or Early Church worldview. The Roman Catholic Church is celebrating the year of St. Paul thanks, in large part, to the witness of people such as Martin Luther, John Knox, and Jean Cauvin.

The Orthodox Church was in what the ancient Antiochians would have considered to be an allegorical overload. But, the responses that had to be given to the Lutheran embassy, and the response that was given to the Calvinists in the Confession of Dositheus forced the Orthodox to consider our theology in the light of Scripture as a primary, though not the only, source.

Our (Orthodox) answers, after due consideration, was that our theology was correct, but now we were basing it much more clearly on an exegetical analysis of Scripture along with a careful consideration of the Church Fathers. If one reads in a dictionary of theology about the “Antiochian School” and the “Alexandrian School” of Biblical interpretation, you will know why this makes us Antiochians so happy. In one sense, it is the long-term vindication of the Antiochian School.

And, so, I thank God for the Reformers, even though I am convinced they were wrong on so many things. But, they were right on insisting that Scripture must be primary and must be taken into serious account whenever the Church speaks authoritatively. And, in that, their reform of both the Roman Catholics and Orthodox has had a fair degree of success. Now, when we Orthodox argue, we argue from all of Holy Tradition, but we make sure that we do not clearly contradict Holy Scripture.

Here on InternetMonk, I argue vigorously with Michael. But, behind the scenes, it will sometimes take me two to three hours to write one of my answers because Michael forces me to think about many issues, what they mean Scripturally, what they mean philosophically, how it fits together logically, what this does to my theology in other areas.

And, so, in many ways, Michael has helped teach me much, both in our agreements and disagreements. And, so, I want to thank Michael for this blog. I have become both a better man and a better priest thanks to him.