Religious Fasting

My beginnings

Religious fasting…It’s a practice as old as historical religion. If you’re familiar with Judaism, Islam, or Christianity, you’re probably aware that there are many types of religious fasting required for these religions. Sometimes that means complete abstinence from food and drink for a period of time—as during Ramadan—and sometimes that means eating smaller amounts—as on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday for Catholics.

I can’t speak to Judaism or Islam, but I do know Christianity pretty well. I have a varied experience of this religion, having grown up in the evangelical Bible church, participating in a charismatic non-denominational church in college, getting married in the Episcopal church in 2009, converting to Catholicism in 2015, and then de-converting to Anglicanism (Catholic lite?) in 2021. My husband and I like to joke that we are theological mutts—with a little bit of everything in our spiritual make-up.

With all that variety, boy, do I have some experience with fasting in many different traditions.

In my Bible church era, I wouldn’t have called it fasting. But I did my own form of spiritual dieting, complete with Bible verses to help me stick to my strict restriction of calories, fixing my eyes on God while starving myself. It didn’t work to change my body, but it did change my brain and make me inclined toward an eating disorder.

In the charismatic non-denom church I attended during college, fasting was en vogue. About every six months, the pastor would call a church-wide fast of 3 days, encouraging us to give up something special to us for that time period. But everyone who was anyone in our college group knew that giving up food was the fast track to holiness (and leadership). We would embark upon the 3-day fast with fervor and zeal, buying apple and grape juice (orange juice was too hard on the tummy), or foregoing anything but water.

The church had a missionary training school that we all aspired to participate in eventually, and those students were required to undertake a longer fast as part of their spiritual training. Sometimes it was ‘just’ a week, but others made the choice (with the guidance of their spiritual mentor) to do even up to 40 days without anything but water. I was inspired by their zeal and wanted to be just like them.

So, one time, I decided to join a 40-day fast before a big prayer meeting in the middle of July (7/7/07). I counted back the days and made a meal plan—all liquids, but I was very flexible in my definition of liquid fasting. I would buy cans of lentil soup and blend them up until they were liquified, and I would eat that twice a day. Otherwise, I drank juice and water to fill me up and distract me from my hunger cues.

The first week went by and it was great. I did feel closer to God when I was fasting. Food choice—and even eating itself—had always been such a burden to me that I was happy to be done with it for a while. I could put away all those “distractions of my flesh” and focus on the spiritual things I truly loved. It was all for Jesus, all for feeling closer to him. And I was losing weight!

14 days passed. It was great. I was tired, so I was sleeping a lot when I wasn’t at work, but I was so spiritual. I continued with my heavy liquid fasting, praying, and reading my Bible at every opportunity. Okay, I was a little bit anxious, but that’s normal when you haven’t eaten for a couple of weeks, right? The worries about anxiety were outweighed by my delight at losing even more weight.

20 days came and went, but on the 21st day, something happened. Something in my broke. Something in my body? No, something in my brain. I had a breakdown. Oh, and I couldn’t stop eating everything in sight.

Thankfully, I was able to see a doctor very quickly, and he prescribed me therapy and meds for the depression and anxiety I had been experiencing. He raised his eyebrows when I told him I had been on a three-week fast, and asked specifically about my church, implying that I needed to proceed with caution. (He was right, but I would continue to go there for years.)

Sitting in his office, I realized that I needed to give up fasting for a while. I knew I couldn’t separate it from the desire to lose weight.

It was the first time I had the idea that fasting/losing weight by not eating might not be healthy for me. It was a moment of revelation, one that I believe spared my life.

There is so much more I have to say about religious fasting, but that will come in part 2 next week!

Peace to you,

Amanda Martinez Beck