“Christians in a gluttonous, denial-less, self-indulgent society may struggle to accept and to begin the practice of fasting. Few Disciplines go so radically against the flesh and the mainstream of culture as this one.”
So writes Donald Whitney, naming what many of us instinctively know: fasting has become a lost art in contemporary Christianity. In a culture defined by indulgence and instant gratification, the voluntary abstinence required by fasting feels not just complex but almost incomprehensible. Yet this very resistance suggests we may be missing something vital. What spiritual riches have we forfeited by neglecting this ancient discipline?
What Fasting Actually Is
Before we can recover the practice of fasting, we must understand what it is—and what it is not. Fasting is any voluntary abstinence from necessary or normal functions of life for a spiritual purpose. While this certainly includes food, it extends beyond it. The defining characteristic is not what we give up, but why: we are intentionally seeking to create a greater hunger for God.
Basil of Caesarea captured the transformative potential of this discipline when he wrote: “Fasting begets prophets and strengthens strong men. Fasting makes lawgivers wise; it is the soul’s safeguard, the body’s trusted comrade, the armor of the champion, the training of the athlete.” Far from being a mere ascetic exercise or a tool for personal willpower, fasting is spiritual formation at its most embodied. It trains us in dependence, attunes us to God’s voice, and positions us to receive from Him in ways we might otherwise miss.
The Theological Foundation
Why does fasting work? Three theological axioms ground this practice in biblical truth.
First, God has hard-wired the universe to function in prayer. James 4:2, 5:17, and Matthew 7:7–8 all testify to this reality: God responds to the prayers of His people. Prayer is not an add-on to the spiritual life; it is a significant means through which God accomplishes His work.
Second, God answers the prayers of the humble. Throughout Scripture—from Judges 20:14-18 to James 4:4—we see that God draws near to those who recognize their need and depend on Him. Pride closes us off from God’s grace; humility opens us to receive it.
Third, God uses fasting to humble us, to get our attention, and through us, He works and answers prayer for His glory. The parable in Luke 18:9–14 illustrates this principle: the tax collector who humbled himself went home justified, while the self-righteous Pharisee did not. Fasting strips away our self-sufficiency and confronts us with our desperate need for God.
John Piper synthesizes these truths powerfully: “God rewards fasting because fasting expresses the cry of the heart that nothing on the earth can satisfy our souls besides God.” When we fast, we are making a statement—to ourselves, to God, to the spiritual realm—about where true satisfaction lies.
The Purposes of Fasting
Scripture reveals multiple purposes for fasting, organized around several themes.
In our relationship with God, we fast to strengthen our prayer life, to express love and worship to God, and to humble ourselves before Him. These purposes remind us that fasting is fundamentally relational, not transactional.
In seeking God’s direction and deliverance, we fast to seek God’s guidance, to seek deliverance or protection, and to overcome temptation and dedicate ourselves to God. Fasting creates space to hear God more clearly when we face significant decisions or spiritual battles.
In response to circumstances, we fast to express grief, to express repentance and return to God, and to express concern for the work of God. Sometimes fasting is the most appropriate response to what is happening around us—a way of saying with our bodies what words alone cannot convey.
Finally, in service to others, we fast to minister to the needs of those around us. Our abstinence can redirect our hearts toward generosity and intercession on behalf of those who suffer.
Beginning the Practice
For those ready to recover this neglected discipline, practical wisdom is essential.
Fasting takes various forms. Consider a partial fast versus an absolute fast, a private fast versus a congregational fast, or a regular fast versus occasional or special fasts. The variety of options allows you to tailor fasting to your specific circumstances and spiritual needs.
As you begin, prepare adequately. Seek advice and, if necessary, permission—especially if you have health concerns. Prepare physically so that you can sustain the fast. Set clear intentions by having a clear target as your prayer focus. Make your commitment and determine the length of your fast beforehand.
Guard your heart throughout the process. Fast and pray to humble yourself, not to impress others. Jesus warns against boasting about fasting; this discipline should draw you closer to God, not elevate you before others. Consider doing the fast with someone else for mutual encouragement and accountability.
Most importantly, stay focused on God. Take time to pray and read the Word. Express concern for the work of God. Remember that fasting is not an end in itself but a means to greater communion with God.
As you sustain the fast, prepare for opposition—spiritual, physical, and emotional. Don’t give in to condemnation when the fast feels difficult. Rest as needed. And recognize that typically insight comes after, not during, fasting. The fruit often appears in retrospect.
When you end the fast, do so wisely. Break the fast slowly to avoid physical distress. Consider journaling insights after the fast to capture what God has shown you and to remember His faithfulness for future fasts.
Recovering What We’ve Lost
In a culture of noise, busyness, and self-indulgence, fasting stands as one of the most radically countercultural practices available to Christians. We’ve lost something the saints throughout history knew: that voluntary abstinence trains the soul in ways abundance never can.
The invitation remains open to recover this means of grace. While Scripture is the fuel and prayer is the vehicle of our spiritual life, fasting positions us to rely entirely on both, stripping away the distractions and dependencies that so easily crowd out our hunger for God. The question is not whether we can afford to fast, but whether we can afford not to.
