If I had to sum up my relationship with the New Year’s holiday succinctly, I’d put it like this: It’s complicated.
There are some things I really love about this season. I like the forced reflection time that gives me the opportunity to take stock of all that’s happened over the last year, and I’m a big fan of setting goals and resolutions to guide me in the year to come.
But there’s also an inevitable blues that sets in once the Christmas tree comes down and the alarm clock is set for yet another workday.
Maybe there are some complicating factors this year—the Tide lost on January 1, and my 9-5 is busier than usual right now. Those two things alone are enough to have any self-respecting person feeling a little down, right? (I’m kidding…sort of.)
In general, there’s a tension that surrounds this time of year, an intermingling of rest and restless that tempts me to lean in to the gloom until spring finally arrives.
Feasting and fasting
I’ve taken a passing interest in the concept of a fast-feast cycle over the last year or so. I think it was precipitated by something N.T. Wright says in his e-book, “Resurrection and the Renewal of Creation.” The quote is as follows:
“We do not keep a forty-day feast to correspond to the forty-day fast of Lent. I think we should. Easter Day is not simply the ‘happy ending’ after the sad and dark story of Holy Week. Easter is the start of something. It isn’t the ending. It is the beginning of the new creation which has been made possible by the overcoming of the forces of corruption and decay in the death of Jesus.”
Obviously, Wright’s assertion here is in service to a larger point, but it was the first thing that really piqued my interest in the concept of fasting and feasting as a modern Christian.
While I know there are many Christians in the U.S. and around the world that observe regular fasts and feast days, the churches and tradition I grew up in didn’t. It wasn’t until college that I attended an Ash Wednesday service or even attempted the fast myself. Regular, corporate fasts, often broken by celebratory feasts, are basically a novel concept to me, so forgive me while I spend some time walking through what makes them so powerful in symbol and in reality.
Devotion and celebration in 2024
I don’t know what 2023 looked like for you, so I can’t prescribe anything for you in 2024. But, I can tell you this: you will not regret dedicating more time, energy, and resources to knowing God better this year.
I think part of what makes fasting and feasting so interesting to me is that they are actions that demand our attention by mixing heaven and earth.
In a secularized society, I think it’s easy to get the idea that my identity as a Christian is just part of who I am. Sure, I’ll be devout in private, but I can keep that separate from the many responsibilities that tug at me all day long.
In reality, a relationship with God is, inherently, an all-consuming experience.
This is evident from the very beginning of the Hebrew Bible, in the “Shema” statement that appears in Deuteronomy 6:4-9:
“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”
Read also: Where is your heart? How an ancient Jewish practice can inform your everyday life
The more you interact with your faith, the less you’ll be able to compartmentalize your life into “religious” and “secular.”
Fasting and feasting, then, are concrete examples of this; by intentionally going without something essential (like food) or something enjoyable (like any of the many normal luxuries we are accustomed to), you create a regular reminder of the reality and purpose of the fast. Hunger, for example, is a very literal, physical reminder of your dependence on God, who sustains you. Then, when you reinstate that thing you’ve gone without, it’s with a sense of gratitude and celebration.
Or at least, I think so. For all my waxing poetic, I’ve never actually tried to put any of these theories into motion until this year. I’m holding off on sharing exact details for now—even as I write this, Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:5 are rolling around in my head (“And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites. For they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward.”). But after many months of mulling it over, I’m taking action this year and finally trying it out for myself.
So, I suppose my invitation is this: Spend some time this week taking account of any specific things the Holy Spirit has brought to your attention lately. Maybe you, also, are being encouraged to commit to some kind of fast—it might line up with the traditional liturgical calendar, or you might be called to something on a quarterly, monthly, or weekly basis.
And of course, a fast isn’t the only way to grow in your walk with the Lord. (It just happens to be the example I’m stuck on right now.)
Can’t think of anything specific? No worries—that’s not abnormal. As always, the starting point is dedicating time each day to prayer and scripture. If you already do that regularly, consider keeping track of the things you’re praying for and the things you’re noticing while you study—it can be as simple as jotting a few words down on a sticky note or the Notes app on your phone. After some time, I trust that you’ll begin to see themes emerging.
The scariest part is acting once you’ve realized that something needs to be done—but that’s the part that matters. As James 1:22-25 says,
“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.”
I’m praying with you and for you as 2024 ramps up, waiting excitedly to see all that God has in store for us over the next 362ish days.
Now, LMK:
Did you set goals or resolutions for 2024? Share them in the comments!