The spiritual disciplines

The Discipline of Fasting

A means of grace, not a way to earn God's love · Matthew 6:16-18 (KJV)

Fasting is the practice of going without food, or something else good, for a time, in order to turn the hunger of the body into hunger for God. It is not a hunger strike to bend God's will, nor a diet, nor a way to prove one's devotion. Jesus assumed His followers would fast, and taught them to do it quietly, in secret, before the Father who sees in secret. At its heart, fasting is feasting on God when we would otherwise feast on lesser things.

Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face; That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.Matthew 6:16-18 (KJV)

What fasting actually is

Fasting is voluntarily giving up food, or another legitimate good, for a set time to focus on God. The empty stomach becomes a prayer without words, a way of saying that we hunger for God more than for bread. It is one of the oldest practices of God's people, found from Moses to Jesus, and it has always meant the same thing: setting aside a bodily appetite so that the deeper appetite of the soul can be attended to.

Fasting is not about earning anything or punishing the body as if it were evil. The body is a gift, and food is a gift. Fasting simply loosens our grip on the gift for a while so we can take hold of the Giver. It teaches, in the plainest bodily way, that we do not live by bread alone. When hunger comes, it turns us toward God, again and again, throughout the day.

Why it matters

Fasting matters because our appetites rule us more than we know. We reach for comfort, distraction, and food almost without thinking, and these small automatic hungers can crowd out the awareness of God. To fast is to interrupt that pattern on purpose, to feel our hunger and let it point us upward. In the space that opens, prayer often deepens and things hidden in the heart come to the surface where God can meet them.

Fasting also expresses what words cannot. In Scripture people fasted in grief, in repentance, in longing, and in seeking God's guidance for weighty decisions. It is the body joining the soul in earnestness, a way of saying with our whole selves that this matters, that we want God more than our own comfort. And it reminds us, gently and firmly, that our truest hunger is only ever satisfied in Him.

There is a quiet honesty in fasting, too. When we go without, the state of our hearts comes to the surface: our irritability, our dependence on comfort, the way we soothe ourselves with food or distraction instead of God. Fasting does not create these things; it simply reveals them, so that we can bring them to God rather than leaving them hidden. In this way a fast becomes a kind of mirror, showing us where our real hungers lie and inviting us to bring them to the only One who can satisfy them.

How the Bible commends it

Jesus did not say if you fast but when you fast, assuming His followers would practice it. He fasted forty days in the wilderness before beginning His ministry, and He taught that fasting is done in secret, not to be seen by others. When you fast, He said, do not put on a gloomy face like the hypocrites who want to be noticed; instead wash your face and appear normal, so that your fasting is seen not by people but by your Father, who sees in secret and rewards openly.

Throughout Scripture, God's people fasted at turning points: the whole nation on the Day of Atonement, Ezra before a dangerous journey, the church at Antioch as they prayed and sent out missionaries. Fasting was never a way to twist God's arm, but a way to seek His face with the whole self. The point Jesus drives home is that it belongs between you and God, hidden from the crowd, offered in love and not for show.

How to begin and sustain it

Begin gently and simply. You might start by skipping a single meal and using that time to pray, or fasting from breakfast and lunch one day a week. Drink water, and if you have any medical condition, are pregnant, or have a history of disordered eating, care for your body first and consider fasting from something other than food, such as screens, entertainment, or a habit that has too much hold on you. The aim is always to seek God, never to harm the body He made.

When hunger comes, let it be a bell that calls you to pray. Turn the discomfort into a moment with God: a short prayer, a verse recalled, a need brought before Him. Break the fast quietly with a simple meal and thanksgiving. Sustain the practice by keeping it modest and regular rather than heroic and rare, and by remembering its purpose. A fast that makes you proud has missed the point; a fast that makes you hungry for God has found it.

It helps to fast with a clear intention, giving the hunger somewhere to go. You might fast while praying about a particular decision, or in intercession for someone you love, or simply to seek God more closely for a season. Pair the fast with Scripture and prayer, so the time you would have spent eating becomes time spent with God; otherwise a fast can become mere hunger with no heart in it. And keep it hidden, as Jesus taught, resisting the urge to let anyone know. What is done quietly before the Father is enough.

Common obstacles, and honest encouragement

Fasting is hard, and that is not a sign you are doing it wrong. The irritability, the preoccupation with food, the temptation to tell someone how spiritual you are being: all of this simply shows how much our appetites govern us, which is exactly what fasting reveals and gently loosens. If you fail and eat, do not condemn yourself; just return to prayer and try again another day. God is not disappointed in beginners.

Some cannot fast from food for good reasons, and they are not second-class Christians. The spirit of fasting, which is loosening our grip on comfort to grasp God, can be lived in many ways. And no one should fast to punish themselves or to feel they have finally done enough. Fasting is meant to make us light and hungry for God, not heavy with guilt. If it is producing pride or despair, set it down and return to grace.

A means of grace, not a way to earn love

Fasting earns nothing. It does not buy God's attention, make you holier in His eyes, or add to a love already given in full through Christ. Jesus warned against fasting to be seen and rewarded by people, and the same warning applies to fasting to be rewarded by God as if it were a transaction. The reward He promises is God Himself, the deepening of a relationship, not the settling of a debt.

So fast as one already loved, not as one trying to become lovable. It is a means of grace, a way of making room for God, of feeling your need and letting it drive you to Him. The empty place fasting opens is meant to be filled by grace, not by pride in your own discipline. Like every spiritual practice, it flows downhill from a love you already have, and never uphill toward a love you must win.

A word of grace: the spiritual disciplines are not a ladder we climb to earn God's love, and never a way to make ourselves acceptable. In Christ, that love is already given in full. These are simply means of grace, open doors through which the love we already have comes to us more freely. They flow from being loved, not toward earning love. If a practice ever feels like pressure or performance, return to the gospel: you are already welcomed home.

Related: The discipline of prayer · The discipline of simplicity and contentment · The spiritual disciplines · All the spiritual disciplines