Persevering through mid-Lent is one of the great spiritual challenges of Catholic living. The initial enthusiasm for penance and self-reform has waned, and Easter is still on the far horizon. Bellies growl and bodies itch in the absence of food, drink, and other pleasures we have given up. In turmoil we ask ourselves, “What is the point of fasting anyway?”
The answer comes directly from the liturgy itself. In the Fourth Preface for Lent (which is the same as the only Lenten Preface for the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite), we pray to God the Father, “By this bodily fast You suppress our vices, elevate our minds, bestow strength and rewards.” Depriving the body of physical pleasantries provides the soul with spiritual benefits. Freed from worldly desires, we focus more intensely on overcoming sin and moving toward the Lord and the graces that the Paschal mystery promises.
This, of course, is the ideal. But in our hunger and deprivation, we can easily find ourselves wallowing in our own misery rather than lifting our hearts towards the Lord. Worse, the self-pity induced by our acts of piety can even fan our vices rather than suppress them. How, practically, can the Lenten fast generate spiritual growth rather than longing for the goods we have temporarily forsaken?
In his magnificent exegesis of Lent in The Church’s Year of Grace, the German theologian Pius Parsch likens Lent to spiritual warfare. Lent is a war between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Satan, to be sure. But it is simultaneously fought on another related front: within the soul of each of us. On this battlefield, the combatants are our higher and lower natures, that is, the spirit – the supernatural life of the soul – and the flesh – human nature weakened by original sin (cf. Galatians 6:8).
Parsch reads the Lenten Preface in light of this battlefield and our Lord’s injunction: we cannot serve both God and Mammon. The latter includes the vices of certain sensual pleasures referred to in the Lenten Preface. It is the very purpose of Lent to root these out. Jesus’ own struggle with Satan in the desert – read annually on the First Sunday of Lent – provides a model for our own battle. As Jesus would explain later in his ministry, Satan – and with him, sin – can only be cast out by the combination of prayer and fasting.
Not all sensual pleasures are vices, but even noble pleasures can consume our minds and lead us from God. When we willfully deny ourselves these good pleasures, the spirit, now less encumbered, can reorient itself to the divine. Our fallen nature, hungry for its longings, will kick back in protest and we will feel our determination waver, but we must remember that we are at war and must soldier on.
Christ in the Desert by Ivan Kramskoi (1872)
Success against sensual pleasure must then move on to fight the more insidious enemy of pride. Again Parsch explains how the battle is fought:
Abstinence from sensual pleasures gives the soul a boost. Bodily pleasures are like leaden weights holding the soul to earth; if these disappear, if these are removed, the soul rises, like a balloon, to celestial heights. Now we see what great significance moderation, chastity, and virginity have for the kingdom of God. Fasting, then, elevates the mind and bestows upon the soul the power to practice virtue and become holy. And finally it helps us attain the crown of eternal glory.
The will, then, is the all important weapon in our Lenten fast, but in itself it is incapable of total victory. The will must be fortified by prayer and purified by sacramental confession. The graces received will not vaporize the enemy – temptation toward sin or toward breaking our resolutions made for God. Instead, they aid our struggle, and make victory possible.
A student once told me that her parish priest advised her not to give up anything during Lent, lest when Easter arrives she be too preoccupied with consuming the missed food to focus on the Resurrection. This well-intentioned suggestion overlooks our bodily nature, and consequently removes Lent from the battlefield of sanctity in favor of an overly spiritualized approach.
When we fast our bodies pray along with our souls and learn that only heavenly bread can satisfy our deepest desires. In the words of Pope Benedict, the “true fast is thus directed to eating the ‘true food,’ which is to do the Father’s will (cf. Jn 4:34).” Easter is the ultimate triumph of the Father’s will. Our joy from sharing in that triumph is only enhanced when we offer the risen Lord our victory on the battlefield of Lent.
With each hunger pang we resist, and with each penitential act we perform, our chastened bodies cry out for physical comfort. The cries direct us to Easter, which provides the grace to conquer sin and live the life of the spirit. By directing our broken selves with a will steeped in grace, may we be found worthy of the fast our Lord undertook for our salvation.
