The Church’s traditional calendar included seasons of fasting that characterized Catholic life for centuries. Throughout those centuries, though, and for many reasons, some good, some bad, the practice has grown thin, much to the detriment of the Church and of individual Catholics. Fasting is an essential feature of the common priesthood of the faithful, a part of the self-denial and self-offering essential to its exercise. The loss of the practice lessens worship and entails a loss of graces so sorely needed in the Church and the world. It also impedes the sanctification of believers, our growth in personal holiness.
Fortunately, there is something you and I can do about that. We can fast voluntarily. Septuagesima is around the corner — February 1. Traditionally the pre-Lenten fast that primed the pump for Lent, we can return to Septuagesima this very year.
What did Jesus teach?
We fast because Jesus expects us to. In Matthew 6:16-19, He says,
16 “And when you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have their reward. 17 But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, 18 that your fasting may not be seen by men but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
“When” you fast: not “if.”
Later in Matthew, at 9:14-15, we are told,
14 Then the disciples of John came to him, saying, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast,[a] but your disciples do not fast?” 15 And Jesus said to them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.
Fasting marks for us now the Bridegroom’s physical absence, his having gone to heaven, rendering us unable to see him directly. It contains a note of mourning, but the mourning also contains hope: in the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins, the wise virgins are the ones with oil in their lamps, the ones who had undertaken all the work necessary for their lamps to be full at their Lord’s return. Fasting is about preparation. It is about putting first things first, to assure that what really matters gets done. As the Eastern liturgy has it,
“Let us hasten to be cleansed through fasting from the foulness of our transgressions, and through mercy and compassionate love for the poor enter into the wedding chamber of Christ the Bridegroom, who extends to us his great mercy.”
The importance of the linkage between fasting and love for the poor can hardly be overstated. if our fasting does not lead us to a greater care for those who go without, our fasting has been false.
We fast, then in imitation of Jesus’s own fast, and in preparation for great events; to purify ourselves of sins and their stains; and to grow in solidarity with and love of the poor, who are so easily despised. In showing us the importance of fasting by his own fasting, and in teaching us its necessity, Jesus recapitulates the Old Testament teaching regarding fasting, and he extends its meaning to include preparation for His coming to us in the Eucharist and at the end of time. We fast so that we may the more worthily feast on the Word of God, drawing from the readings the nourishment and sustenance our souls require in preparation for the true manna we receive at Mass, as we “wait in joyful hope…”
Teachings of the Church and Desert Fathers
The call to fast did not end when Jesus ascended into Heaven. The Church Fathers, the ancient theologians of the Church’s first centuries who after Holy Scripture enjoy pride of place as sources of Christian wisdom, continued in teaching that prayer and fasting are inseparably linked. Fasting mortifies the senses and frees the mind from distractions, allowing it to focus more intently and wholeheartedly on the Lord. Saints Jerome, John Chrysostom, John Cassian, and Augustine all wrote of the positive effects of fasting, which all of them see as necessary.
Pope St. Leo the Great synthesizes this teaching in a famous sermon, calling prayer, fasting, and almsgiving the “three comprehensive duties” that activate all virtues. He continues by preaching that, “prayer propitiates God, fasting extinguishes lusts, and almsgiving redeems sins, uniting believers with the Holy Spirit through faith, innocence, and kindness.”
In this teaching, the Fathers and the Pope echo the Desert Fathers, those early Christian hermits and monks in Egypt and Syria (3rd-5th centuries) who taught prayer and fasting as foundational to the ascetical life. They saw fasting as necessary for achieving purity of heart, hesychia (inner stillness), and union with God. Drawing from Scripture and personal experience, they viewed these practices as weapons against demonic temptations, fostering humility, vigilance, and ceaseless communion with the divine.
Perhaps surprisingly, while the great champions of the Desert fasted rigorously, eating infrequently and sparsely, they also urged moderation in fasting. Fasting is not an end in itself: it is a means to greater prayer, to greater experiential union with God. They interrupted their fasting when guests appeared for counsel who were also in need of physical nourishment, returning to their fasts only after their guests had withdrawn. Thus St. John Cassian teaches that there is no one uniform rule, one prescribed way of fasting. Here, indeed, is an echo of the law of love: we fast for love and in imitation of Our Lord, not just to fulfill a legal requirement or ascetical norm.
Medieval Christian teaching
St. Bernard, the Mellifluous Doctor, and sometimes called the last Church Father, taught that fasting purifies the heart from vanity and gluttony, enabling deeper union with God; in the fourth degree of pride (boastfulness), he warned against using fasting to showcase superiority, as true fasting directs one to “love God” without ostentation. It counters the “threefold nature of gluttony”—anticipating meals, overstuffing, or seeking delicacies—by promoting contentment with simple, common food, thus building the “foundation” for virtues like chastity and prayer. When we fast, we are foregoing an already-tempered practice of taking an amount of food sufficient to maintain health and strength. We draw no attention to our fasting or eating in any event.
Other medieval monks, friars, and saints maintain the same sensibility. Fasting is required to attain true prayer, but superhuman effort must be avoided, lest pride mar the whole exercise and gluttony follow in its train. Fasting disciplines the body, but one does not fast so hard or long that one cannot fulfill one’s duties to the community. Nor is fasting a solo enterprise: One fasts when the community fasts, and one feasts when the community feasts. The formula is simple: love of God, love of neighbor. There is neither without both.
The Mitigation of Fasting as a Common Discipline
It is common enough for many Catholics to think that all went “soft” in the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council. Such a perception is mistaken. Sometimes medieval religious orders renowned for their orthodoxy relaxed their internal fasting requirements, leading to the foundation of new Orders that practiced the old customs. Crusaders sometimes saw the Friday Abstinence and Fast relaxed. Different sorts of Christians were bound to different sorts of fasting, in relation to their formation and their roles in the Church.
In response to the Protestant Reformation, the heresy of Quietism, and the physical needs of the lay faithful in the age of the Industrial Revolution and beyond, the Church also relaxed requirements, as the economy which grew out of Catholic culture, and which supported both fasting and feasting as regular practices, was replaced by an economy that grew out of a rejection of Catholic culture.
Perhaps we can discern something of a pattern in the history of the mitigations. The law of the Church is ordered to the salvation of souls, and thus to charity, not severity. Whether due to the needs or insistence of her members, or to external threats to the Church, the Church responded by relaxing requirements that could become, or just appear to be, too taxing. Over time, charity and her daughter, kindness, permitted exceptions to rules and practices that started out innocently enough and end up undermining the practices and institutions they are meant to support.
This has led us to the Church’s current definition of fasting as the taking of one meal at the end of the day and two smaller meals which together do not equal the size of the last meal. On the one hand, the current regulation follows the ancient practice of moderation. On the other hand, the almost non-existent demand for fasting has had the effect of weakening spiritual fervor.
One is free to fast according to the canon law. One is also free to fast more rigorously, if one chooses: the ancient practice was to take no food before sunset if possible, and generally not before 3:00 p.m. A very light snack prior to 3:00 p.m. was permitted to those who for whatever reason needed the extra sustenance. Pregnant women, the infirm, and those doing hard physical work enjoyed some relaxation of discipline if they needed and wanted it. The Church still allows for these exceptions.
Fasting in Septuagesima
The Septuagesima Fast, which begins the third Sunday before Lent, serves as a “warm-up” to the great Lenten Fast. This fast was never canonically required of the laity; for religious and clergy, there were various practices that might include systematic elimination of food. The only universal norm, it seems, was Mardi Gras — “Fat Tuesday” –, the day when whatever heavy starches, meats, dairy, eggs, and fats remained in the home prior to Ash Wednesday were consumed. Carnival means “meat, go away.” Lent was lean.
One might therefore fast during Septuagesima by observing the Church’s law on fasting — one main meal, two smaller that don’t equal one — and eat what one wants, without meat on Fridays — and Wednesdays, too, if one wants the full ancient tradition. Or one might systematically eliminate foods: no meat the first week; no cheese the second, no eggs and other dairy just prior to Lent. The idea is to construct a plan that works. Now is a good time to start thinking about it, since Septuagesima Sunday is February 1this year, just a few weeks away.
Fasting in Lent
However one fasts in Septuagesima, one might consider upping the game in Lent, though again, the only requirements are those imposed by Canon Law: Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are days of fasting (one full meal) and abstinence (no meat), and the Fridays of Lent (Good Friday is part of the Tritium, after Lent) are still widely observed as days of abstinence.
One could fast all of Lent by observing the fasting laws every day and the abstinence on Fridays. One could observe both fasting and abstinence throughout all of Lent. Or one could observe the traditional Lenten Fast: no meat, eggs, dairy, or wine was permitted, beer was allowed (as it was “liquid bread”), and fish was sometimes allowed. Vegetables and bread were consumed, and if one had access to olive or other non-animal oils, their usage was often permitted.
The best way to go is “gradually.” Hard starts usually end in hard stops, and any gains are almost immediately lost. By easing into Lent through fasting in Septuagesima, one prepares oneself for greater rigor in Lent and increases the likelihood of successfully completing one’s Lenten intentions. The point, too, is to fast in reparation for sins — one’s own and others —, to imitate Our Lord, and to grow in charity. The best way to do this is to increase prayer and personal devotions during Septuagesima to be ready to “take on” Lent when it arrives, a time that should also be bathed in prayer, devotion, and an increase in good works.