Making Room: The Purpose of Fasting & Feasting
For many of us, fasting feels unfamiliar.
Maybe you didn’t grow up in a church tradition that practiced it. Maybe you’ve only heard about it during Lent. Maybe it sounds intense, overly religious, or just unnecessary.
And yet — fasting has always been part of the Christian life.
Not as a fad. Not as a spiritual hack. Not as a way to impress God.
But as a way to make room.
Let’s talk about why.
Why Are Christians Called to Fast?
First, fasting is not uniquely Christian.
It’s a nearly universal religious practice. It was central to Judaism long before Christianity, and Christians inherited it as part of following the God of Israel. From the earliest days of the Church, believers fasted. It wasn’t optional or trendy. It was assumed.
In fact, when Jesus talks about fasting in Matthew 6, He doesn’t say “if you fast.” He says: “When you fast…”
He assumes His followers will fast.
But what is fasting?
At its simplest, fasting is the intentional setting aside of good things in order to open ourselves more fully to God.
Notice: good things.
If you’re setting aside something sinful, that’s called repentance — and we should be doing that year-round. Fasting is different. Fasting involves voluntarily stepping away from something good — food, content, convenience, entertainment — to reorder our relationship with it and to become more aware of our dependence on God.
When we fast, we remember:
We are not self-sufficient.
We are not sustained by consumption alone.
We are creatures who depend on the Creator.
And often, when we choose hunger, we grow in solidarity with those who don’t choose it.
Fasting Is Ordered Toward Feasting
One of the biggest misconceptions about fasting is that it’s an end in itself.
It’s not.
Fasting is always ordered toward feasting.
In our modern world, we tend to live in a feast then fast cycle. We consume endlessly, then try to “clean up” afterward. But the Christian rhythm is inverted:
We fast in order to feast.
This is especially clear in Lent.
Lent lasts 46 days from Ash Wednesday to Easter — not 40 — because Sundays are never fast days. Every Sunday is a little Easter, a celebration of the resurrection. Lent builds anticipation. It trains our hunger so that when Easter arrives, we are ready to receive it as a gift.
The whole point isn’t “Let me give up bad stuff so God will like me more.”
It’s:
What can I set aside so that I grow in expectation?
What can I remove so that I hunger more deeply for Christ?
Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” Not just, “Blessed are those who are hungry.” He wants us to be hungry for something that will be given.
Fasting builds longing. And longing prepares us for joy.
How Did Jesus Fast?
Jesus didn’t reject fasting — He clarified it.
In Matthew 6, He warns against using fasting to draw attention to ourselves. Don’t make a scene. Don’t perform it. Don’t turn it into spiritual theater.
But again — He assumes His followers will fast.
In Mark 2, when people ask why His disciples aren’t fasting, Jesus says something fascinating. He compares Himself to a bridegroom at a wedding.
“When the bridegroom is with them, they cannot fast.”
Weddings are for feasting.
But then He says:
“There will be a time when the bridegroom is taken away. Then they will fast.”
In other words, fasting belongs to the “in-between” time — the time between Christ’s resurrection and His return. We live in a world where the decisive victory has been won, but the fullness of the Kingdom hasn’t yet arrived.
So we fast.
And we feast.
Both are fitting for this moment in history.
What Does Fasting Actually Look Like?
Most people think fasting only means “no food.”
That’s one form — but it’s not the only one.
1. Fasting from Certain Foods
One way to approach it is to fast from specific foods rather than all food. Maybe no desserts. No soda. No red meat. Something you genuinely enjoy — something that will mildly annoy you to give up.
That irritation? That awareness? That’s the point.
Each time you notice the absence, you’re reminded to turn your attention toward God.
And Sundays are for feasting. If you’re fasting during Lent, you break the fast on Sunday — not as a “cheat day,” but as a celebration.
2. Time-Based Fasting
Another ancient practice is fasting until a certain hour — noon, 3 p.m., or sundown. This connects hunger with prayer and intentional dependence.
But don’t jump into extreme practices if you’ve never fasted before. Rash spiritual vows tend to be short-lived — and what is short-lived often does more damage than good.
Start small. Build consistency.
3. Fasting from Consumption (Content, Shopping, Screens)
We call it “consumption” for a reason.
We consume food.
We consume media.
We consume information.
We consume products.
Sometimes what clouds our discernment isn’t lack of guidance — it’s overconsumption.
A social media fast can be powerful — especially if you remove the apps entirely.
A podcast fast. An Amazon fast. A shopping fast. A TV fast.
The Key to Fasting:
When we give something up, there is a space. What do you do? Replace it intentionally.
If you fast from scrolling, what will you do when you’re standing in line?
If you fast during lunch, what will you do with that hour?
Fasting without replacement often becomes boredom. Fasting with intention becomes transformation.
Feed on Scripture. Pray. Sit in silence. Journal. Walk.
It’s not just what you’re giving up.
It’s what you’re making room for.
Common Misconceptions About Fasting
1. Fasting Is a Transaction
“If I fast, God will reward me.”
No.
Fasting is not a bargaining chip. It’s not spiritual leverage.
But fasting does create clarity.
When we eat a little less, our minds can become clearer. When we consume less content, creativity and contemplation often increase. Christians have long paired fasting with discernment — not because fasting forces God to speak, but because it makes us more aware of His presence.
Discernment isn’t primarily about decision-making. It’s about awareness.
Fasting increases awareness.
But it’s not mechanical. It’s relational.
2. Fasting Is Only for Super-Spiritual People
Not true.
Fasting is one of the most basic historic Christian practices. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. It doesn’t have to be impressive.
It just has to be intentional.
3. If I Don’t Fast During Lent, I’m Failing
Not necessarily.
Lent itself isn’t commanded in Scripture. It’s a tool. A rhythm. A gift.
But here’s something to consider:
Fasting itself is not optional in the long run. At some point, some kind of fasting should be part of your life with God.
It doesn’t make you more loved; it helps you love God more freely.
Fast Together, Not Alone
One final caution: fasting can sometimes drift into isolation.
Solitude can be healthy. Isolation is not.
Historically, fasting was communal. Jesus assumed communal fasting. The early church practiced it together.
There’s something powerful about fasting alongside others — praying together, breaking the fast together, remembering together why you’re doing this.
Community keeps fasting from becoming self-focused.
Community turns hunger into shared hope.
So… What Should You Do?
If you’re reading this and thinking, “I don’t want to fast” — that’s okay.
But pay attention to your reactions.
If one of these ideas immediately triggered a long list of reasons why it’s impossible, that might be worth noticing.
Not in a shame-filled way. Just in an honest way.
Fasting is not about proving yourself.
It’s about making space.
Space for hunger.
Space for clarity.
Space for joy.
Space for Jesus.
Because at the end of the day, fasting isn’t about absence.
It’s about anticipation.
We fast because we are waiting.
Waiting for the fullness of resurrection life.
Waiting for the Bridegroom.
Waiting for the day when hunger is no more.
And until that day comes, we practice.
We fast.
We feast.
And we learn to live as people who know how to long for God.
Rev. Dr. John Drury is a professor at Indiana Wesleyan University, but his greatest desire is not simply to inform minds — it is to form hearts. As a committed person of prayer, he is passionate about helping young adults cultivate a steady, attentive life in the presence of God. He believes faith is meant to be experienced, practiced, and embodied. He is married to Mandy and together they are raising three children.