When Fasting Looks Like Justice

Me: Orientation

Someone asked me recently if I have decided what I am giving up for Lent.

It’s a question I have been asked many times before...

...and it’s usually asked with good intentions.

But this time, it caught me a little off guard...

...because I realized how small that question suddenly felt.

It assumes that faith is mostly about what I can manage on my own...

...my own discipline, my own sacrifice, my own spiritual growth.

And yet, everywhere I look right now...

...in our city, in our neighborhood, even in the life of the church...

...the deeper challenges we’re facing don’t feel individual at all.

They feel shared.

Hunger, loneliness, injustice, fear…

...those aren’t things any one of us can fast our way out of alone.

...and I have been sitting with the tension of that...

A faith that has often been practiced privately...

...in a world that is crying out for something different.

Which has left me wondering whether we’ve sometimes asked too small a question of our faith...

...not because giving something up is wrong...

...but because faith that actually transforms the world is never practiced in isolation.

It is lived in relationship, shared sacrifice, and collective hope.

We: Identification

...and I don’t think I’m the only one feeling that tension.

Many of us were taught that faith is deeply personal...

...something between God and us.

And in many ways, that’s true.

Our prayers are personal.

Our struggles are personal.

Our devotion matters.

But I imagine I’m not alone in sensing that some of the questions we’re facing right now are bigger than any one person...

...or even any one congregation...

I imagine some of us feel torn between wanting to be faithful in the ways we know...

...and trusting God enough to imagine new ways of living that faith together.

Some of us may feel hopeful about what could happen if we shared the work more fully.

Others may feel cautious, even weary, shaped by past experiences where collaboration was hard or disappointing.

Others may simply be trying to discern what faithfulness looks like in a world that feels more fractured and fragile than it used to.

Wherever we find ourselves on that spectrum, I think many of us are asking the same underlying question...

What does it look like to live a faith that is honest, embodied, and strong enough to bless more than just ourselves?

God: Illumination

...and the good news is… that we are not the first people to wrestle with this question.

God’s people have faced this tension before, and Scripture has something to say about it.

The prophet Isaiah speaks to a community that is doing all the right religious things.

They are fasting...

They are humbling themselves...

They are praying earnestly...

...and yet, they wonder why God doesn’t seem to be responding.

God’s answer through the prophet is startling...

...not because the people aren’t religious enough...

...but because their worship has become disconnected from how they treat one another.

The prophet records God’s answer as...

“Yet on your fast day, you do whatever you want, and oppress all your workers. You quarrel and brawl, and then you fast.”

In other words… their devotion is real.

...but it has become private, contained, and disconnected from the life of the community.

Then Isaiah gives voice to God’s heart when he records… “Isn’t this the fast I choose?”

What follows isn’t a list of dietary restrictions such as giving up chocolate, soda, or sweets...

...or spiritual practices such as giving up social media, television or streaming, online shopping, or gaming...

No friends… what we see is God’s heart…

It’s “releasing wicked restraints, untying the ropes of a yoke, setting free the mistreated, and breaking every yoke?”

Instead of giving up chocolate, share your bread with the hungry.

Instead of giving up soda, pour yourself out for the thirsty and weary.

Instead of giving up sweets, accompany immigrants through practices of welcome, advocacy, and care.

Instead of giving up social media, affirm the dignity and sacred worth of our queer siblings.

Instead of giving up television or streaming, see the suffering you’ve been trained to scroll past.

Instead of giving up online shopping, clothe the naked and practice generosity.

Instead of giving up gaming, make room for restoration… yours and your neighbors.

Isaiah tells us that a true fast doesn’t just make us lighter...

It makes the world more just.

Friends… when fasting looks like justice....

...then you will break out like the dawn,

Then you will be healed quickly.

God doesn’t reject fasting. God redefines it.

Fasting, in Isaiah's vision, is not about withdrawing from the world...

...but about being freed from the world.

It is meant to transform not just the one who fasts, but the community they belong to.

That’s why earlier we sang,

“Whom shall I send to loosen the bonds of shame and greed?”

Isaiah’s answer hasn’t changed.

God’s fast has always been about freeing others, not perfecting ourselves.

            …because holiness, in the Christian life, looks like love lived outward.

You: Application

So what does this transforming fast look like for us?

Isaiah doesn’t invite us into guilt...

...he invites us into practice.

Into choices that reorient our lives toward the good of others.

For some of us, the fast God is calling us into may still include giving something up...

...but not for the sake of self-denial alone.

It might mean fasting from isolation.

Fasting from the assumption that faithfulness is something we do best on our own.

Fasting from the comfort of staying small when love is asking us to grow wider.

...and for us, as a congregation...

...that question isn’t abstract.

We are actively discerning what it might look like to live our faith more fully together...

...with one another, and with our neighbors.

That’s why we are in a season of prayerful discernment as we reimagine our partnership with Syracuse United Methodist Ministry...

...not because we have all the answers, but because we believe the needs of our city call for shared responsibility.

We are also already practicing this outward-facing faith through our partnership with Interfaith Community Collective...

...showing up alongside neighbors across religious differences to care for the vulnerable, to seek justice, and to respond to real human need.

None of this replaces personal devotion.

Prayer still matters.

Fasting still matters.

Worship still matters.

But Isaiah reminds us that devotion to God is always meant to overflow into love of neighbor...

…and that faithfulness is measured not only by what we practice privately...

...but by how our lives participate in God’s healing of the world.

So as we march past transfiguration Sunday next week towards Ash Wednesday and into a season of Lenten preparation...

...perhaps the question isn’t simply… “What will I give up?”

But “What kind of life is God inviting us to live...together?”

We: Inspiration

Friends, I invite you to imagine what could happen if our worship didn’t stop at the sanctuary doors and here on University Avenue.

Imagine a church where fasting didn’t just change individual habits...

...but reshaped how we show up for one another and for our neighbors.

This is what Jesus is pointing to when he says, “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.”

Salt doesn’t exist for itself.

Light doesn’t shine for its own benefit.

Neither makes sense in isolation.

Salt only matters when it touches food.

Light only matters when it’s in a place where it can be seen.

Jesus assumes a faith that is already public, already relational, already engaged in the world God loves...

...imagine what it would look like if our Lenten practices didn’t just make us more disciplined...

...but made our city more compassionate.

Imagine a community where prayer deepens courage, fasting fuels justice, and worship spills over into shared action.

Imagine neighbors experiencing hope...

...not because one church had all the answers, but because God’s people chose to live their faith together.

This is the kind of righteousness Jesus names...

...not performative…

…not self-contained,

…but visible,

…life-giving,

…and rooted in love.

Friends… this is not about doing more for the sake of doing more.

It’s about becoming who we already are...

...salt that flavors,

...light that guides,

...a people whose faith points beyond itself to the goodness of God.

...and if we dare to live this way...together...then maybe...

...just maybe, the world will catch a glimpse of the God,

...who is still healing...

...still restoring...

...still calling creation toward fullness of life.

In the name of our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.