The 'red meat' of the Lenten fast: a sermon for the beginning of Lent

‘When ye fast’: the ‘red meat’ of the Lenten fast 

At the Ash Wednesday Eucharist & Imposition of Ashes, 2022 

Joel 2:12 & Matthew 6:16 (the appointed readings in 1926/1662)

From the reading appointed for the epistle on Ash Wednesday, words from the prophet Joel: “Turn ye even to me, saith the Lord … with fasting”;

And Our Lord’s opening words from the Gospel reading: “When ye fast”.  

When your Rector kindly invited me to preach at this Ash Wednesday Eucharist, he urged that the sermon would have ‘red meat’.

Now, we might wonder about such advice for an Ash Wednesday sermon.  Red meat? On a day when the readings traditionally appointed declare - clearly and explicitly - that we are entering into a season of fasting? 

Would it not be wiser to use a more appropriate term - with less mention of meat - for a sermon on the first day of Lent, the season of fasting?

Before answering that question, let us first think about fasting.  It can, perhaps, sound like an out-dated religious practice, having no place in our contemporary world.  

Are we not, after all, grateful for a secure supply of food, an abundant choice of foods, and the ease with which meals are prepared compared to what was common in the past?

And yet fasting is a practice not unknown in our contemporary society.  During a recent episode of the tv program ‘Saturday Kitchen Live’, a chef from a Greek Orthodox background explained how the Orthodox fast from meat and dairy products during Lent.  

What struck me was how this was received by the other guests on the show: rather than being viewed as an odd, antiquated practice, it was praised for being a wise approach to food, diet, and lifestyle.

Think too of our Muslim neighbours and their fast during the holy month of Ramadan. The seriousness with which they approach Ramadan is deeply inspiring.

There are numerous secular people who religiously adhere to ‘Dry January’. 

‘Meat Free Monday’ has similarly grown in popularity.  When you go to the initiative’s website, the reasons given to encourage participation in ‘Meat Free Mondays’ make clear that it is not a mere matter of taste but, rather, of living out a vision of environmental responsibility.

And secular people who adopt vegetarianism and veganism often regard it as a moral decision - giving almost religious motivation for their dietary choice.

Fasting - in various forms - is, then, not an unusual practice in our society. Amongst both the religious and the secular, it happens around us. That in itself should give us pause for thought when we consider why we Western Christians are so often reticent about the practice.

Every Ash Wednesday, in readings from Scripture (as we have heard) and in the Church’s liturgy, Lent begins with calls to practice fasting during these forty days before Easter.

Our Lord’s words which address us each Ash Wednesday also make clear that fasting is not an odd practice for a spiritual elite but, rather, a call given to all Christians: “When ye fast”.  

The Church of Ireland’s Book of Common Prayer echoes this when it describes the forty days of Lent as “Days of abstinence and self-denial”.  

Now, yes, in our Anglican tradition we do not set rules for fasting, and with good reason: rules can too easily end up being followed for their own sake, rather than being a response in faith to the Lord’s call. Each of us is to exercise our conscience and reflect on what this call to fast means for us, in our daily circumstances.

The call, however, is given to us, it is set before us on this Ash Wednesday: “Turn ye even to me, saith the Lord … with fasting”; “When ye fast”.

Whether it is abstaining from one meal a day during the weekdays of Lent, or meaningfully abstaining from luxuries during this season, or simplifying our diets, we are called to fast.

But why are we called to fast during this season of Lent?

There are three key reasons for the Lenten fast.

Firstly, throughout the Scriptures, fasting is an expression of penitence, a recognition that all is not well us - individually and corporately.  And penitence is central to Lent.  

In the words of the Lenten collect which we have prayed: “that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness”.  

There is a hard reality to this, an acknowledgement that individually and corporately we have gone astray, we have been foolish, we fall short of the commandment to love God and neighbour. 

The grave evil and profound injustice we are now seeing being inflicted upon the people of Ukraine is a sobering example of how our world is disordered by sin: the sin of inflicting evil on others; the sin of standing by and watching evil being inflicted upon others.  

Fasting gives expression to this acknowledgement of our sin and our need of God’s reconciling grace and forgiveness. 

Secondly, fasting embodies the truth that, to use the words of Our Lord which we will hear in the gospel reading for the First Sunday in Lent, ‘we do not live by bread alone’.  

Abstaining from a meal, or simplifying our diets, or meaningfully abstaining from luxuries, brings us to recognise that material, physical food - while a good gift of God's creation - does not alone give life to us.  

We need spiritual food to sustain us in true life, life with depth of meaning, life in communion with God.

Thirdly, fasting during Lent also reminds us that we are approaching the annual celebration of the saving events at the very heart of the Christian Faith - the Lord’s Death and Resurrection, Good Friday and Easter Day.  

The Lenten fast is a way of preparing us in heart and soul for these days, of orienting us towards them and their celebration of the Cross and Resurrection.

The early 17th century Anglican priest and poet George Herbert began his poem ‘Lent’ with the words, “Welcome deare feast of Lent”.  

Lent as a 'feast'? It was, of course, a play on the fact that Lent is a season of fasting.  As Herbert implies, fasting is a spiritually rich and nourishing practice.  

It calls us to a deeper penitence and thus a deeper experience of God’s forgiveness.  

It draws us to recognise more fully our need of spiritual food, in Word and Sacrament.  

It prepares us in body and soul for the celebration of the defining events of our salvation, the Cross and Resurrection.

Fasting, in other words, is ‘red meat’ for the soul.

Herbert continues in his poem ‘Lent’, “The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church sayes, now”.

Now we have entered into the season of fasting. Now we have heard the call of the Scriptures, echoed in the Church’s liturgy and teaching, for us to fast during these forty days.

Hearing this call, may we know the spiritual nourishment of fasting during this Lent, leading us to deeper penitence, to a renewed partaking of spiritual food in Scripture and Eucharist, and preparing us to again encounter the Crucified and Risen Lord in the mystery of His Cross and Resurrection.