Christis

 
   
 

Previous article | Next article

Bible Bit

Clare Richardson finds nourishment in Isaiah 58: 1–11

This passage examines the concept of fasting, and outlines the type of fasting that is acceptable to God. Isaiah proclaims that fasting in the sense of not eating does not of itself please God. It is an intrinsic part of repentance: it only has meaning or purpose when accompanied by a contrite heart, acknowledging one’s own sins, and by a change in attitude and behaviour. God declares that in fact the “fasting” he desires is not about abstinence from food but about renunciation of ungodly behaviour (v6–10).

Fasting was a recognised means for the Israelites to show regret for their sins — all those acts which in harming others make this world and our relationships with each other and with God imperfect — that they might receive forgiveness. However, this passage highlights two problems with their actual use of this practice.

Firstly, they had come to see fasting as a bargaining tool: if they fasted, God would be obliged to answer their prayers their way (v2–3). Clearly, God does not operate in this way: he is transcendent, beyond all our imaginings, superior to all else we know or can conceive of — he does not need to bargain, and as an infinitely loving, wise and just God, his reasons for the varied ways in which he responds to our cries and needs are beyond reproach, even if we as humans are too limited to understand them.

Secondly, they were perhaps showing a limited understanding of the concept of repentance. This involves recognising that we have behaved in an unloving, unjust or inconsiderate way, saying sorry (to the appropriate person when possible, and to God), asking God’s forgiveness, and then with God’s help, attempting to stop committing that sin. The Israelites were ignoring the final element, that of putting right their unjust behaviour (v3–5): they were exploiting others, and quarrelling and fighting with one another even on official fasting days. By implication, they had divorced the ritual of fasting from the idea of a need for forgiveness for their own sins. They were refusing to acknowledge their part in condoning and increasing social injustice — particularly oppression of the materially worse off.

The kind of fasting God desires includes fighting against injustice, feeding the hungry, providing shelter for the homeless, clothing the naked, and caring for one’s immediate family.

This message is reinforced throughout the New Testament (e.g. Matthew 25: 31–46, 1 Timothy 6: 6–10, James 2: 14–16), and Jesus himself provides us with a model to follow in his loving treatment of the poor and the oppressed, in his references to giving to the needy and in his proclamation that he has come to bring about the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy of release for “the oppressed”, “the brokenhearted”, “the captives” and “the prisoners” (Isaiah 61: 1–2) during one of his sermons (Luke 4: 19–20).

Not only this, he shows us that he desires from us sacrifice, not just giving a little of what we can spare from our surplus plenty — see Mark 10: 17–23 (the rich man), Mark 12: 41–44 (the widow’s offering), Matt 25: 14–30 (parable of the talents). It is easy to forget that all that we are and all that we own (including our material possessions, our time, our talents, our existence) is not a right but a gift to be used for God’s service. Jesus also tells us how we should give of ourselves, that is, in secret, that we would receive no human praise and that the recipient would not feel beholden (Matthew 6: 1–4).

So what relevance does this have today, to our relationship with Christ and to our Christian witness? The obvious answer is that this teaching is applicable until all material need, all suffering and all injustice has ended — until the second coming of Christ.

The next question, then, is how do we apply this teaching to our present reality? What can we do to bring about God’s kingdom on earth by reducing others’ suffering (material, psychological, emotional, spiritual)?

The following are just some ideas …

Throughout history, the Church has been a major force in righting social evils as part of its calling from God — ending the slave trade and apartheid, fighting for free education and for the plight of the materially poor.

In the areas of the world where the Church is growing most extensively this is still the case. Is part of the reason for the developed world’s recent faith crisis that we as individuals have become too worldly? — have we become too greedy, too self-centred? Have we forgotten the importance of servanthood, seeing our faith rather as a security blanket? Maybe a sense that our individual efforts can’t amount to much has led us to apathy (but surely God will honour our act of stepping out in faith, and expects of us no more than that which he gave us the capacity to achieve?). Perhaps we don’t know how to apply to ourselves the teaching to “love your neighbour”. Or perhaps it is just that we have forgotten that our money and our time on earth are not our right but a gift from God, who calls us to be good stewards. When we reject the poor and the needy (including those around us who need emotional or financial support) we are committing the sins of greed and idolatry in placing our own desires for luxuries above the duty to love and serve the Lord. When we care for them, we are being faithful servants. Faith without works is a dead faith.

Christ the Caller:

You are the caller, You are the poor
You are the stranger at my door
You are the wanderer, the unfed
You are the homeless with no bed
You are the man driven insane
You are the child crying in pain
You are the other who comes to me
If I open to another You’re born in me.

© David Adam

Clare Richardson is a fourth year Linguistics and Literature student.

Previous article | Next article


Last modified: 25th November 2005