Fasting Rediscovering a Spiritual Discipline

In a world driven by instant gratification, the idea of fasting sounds bizarre. Food delivery apps like Uber Eats and DoorDash have made meals available at the tap of a button. Social media promotes a culture of indulgence, where the pursuit of pleasure takes center stage. The empire we live in values constant consumption—of food, information, and experiences. Every notification on your phone, every Instagram scroll, feeds an insatiable appetite for more. The metrics of success are often tied to how much we can accumulate, produce, and consume, rather than how we can grow inwardly. Power dynamics favor those who keep pushing the limits, who never slow down.

When you think about it, fasting confronts these worldly patterns head-on. It says: “Hold on, stop the noise!” It challenges assumptions about fulfillment, satisfaction, and worth. In a world that tells you that more is better, fasting flips the script. It invites you to reassess what truly nourishes your soul. Have you ever considered that the very act of withholding can lead to a deeper connection with God? That’s a radical thought.

But in a culture that idolizes speed and excess, the practice of fasting often feels like swimming upstream. You might feel a twinge of guilt when you skip a meal, or worse, look at the clock and wonder if you can get that food delivery before the next binge-watch episode starts. Fasting can seem like an outdated practice, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, this spiritual discipline is not just a “no” to food; it’s so much more than that. It’s a radical “yes” to deeper intimacy with God.

The Divine Disruption

But the kingdom! When Jesus stepped onto the scene, everything changed. The Sermon on the Mount flipped societal norms on their heads. Instead of a checklist of religious practices, He pointed to the heart. In Matthew 6:16-18, He addresses fasting directly, making it clear that this isn't about outward appearances but inner transformation. He says, "When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full." This is a divine disruption to the “look at me” approach that permeates our culture.

Jesus wasn’t just teaching; He was modeling a lifestyle that prioritized relationship over ritual. His fast in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11) wasn't just about abstaining from food; it was about reliance on God’s word. This was a total shift. In the Kingdom, the act of fasting becomes a pathway to clarity, strength, and revelation. Instead of looking at our circumstances, we turn our gaze to the divine. Think about it like this app: a productivity hack for your spiritual life. You’re decluttering distractions to focus on what truly matters.

Fasting also mirrors the early apostles’ practice. In Acts 13:2-3, they fasted and prayed before commissioning Barnabas and Saul. This wasn’t a random act; it was a deliberate decision to seek divine guidance. The kingdom doesn’t operate on our time frame or our metrics of success. It’s about aligning with God’s will. When you engage in fasting, you are essentially hitting the “refresh” button on your spiritual operating system. You are prioritizing the divine over the mundane.

This reversal continues today. Think about the tech world: we often hear about "disruptive innovation." This is what the kingdom embodies. It’s a radical reevaluation of what it means to thrive. Instead of chasing the next big thing, you’re invited to slow down and recalibrate your heart. Fasting becomes a way to do just that—a divine reset.

The Beautiful Scandal

Everything changes when we recognize the beautiful scandal of the gospel. Fasting seems foolish to many. Why give up something essential for a spiritual pursuit? To the world, this looks like weakness. The very idea of losing out to gain something richer—like intimacy with God—challenges every societal norm. In 1 Corinthians 1:18, Paul declares, "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." This principle applies to fasting as well.

Fasting, in essence, is a declaration of dependence. It says, “I don’t need this to sustain me; my sustenance comes from God.” This is counterintuitive. In a culture that upholds self-sufficiency, this vulnerability becomes a powerful testimony. It’s a paradox—losing to win, emptying to fill. The act of fasting opens your heart to the reality that God’s provisions transcend earthly needs.

Jesus’ own life embodies this scandal. He embraced suffering, weakness, and ultimately death on a cross, which the world deemed an utter failure. Yet, from that apparent defeat sprang forth victory. Fasting connects you to this narrative. When you willingly forgo something, you enter into the rhythm of Chr