Lent Fasting Quotes

No act of virtue can be great if it is not followed by advantage for others. So, no matter how much time you spend fasting, no matter how much you sleep on a hard floor and eat ashes and sigh continually, if you do no good to others, you do nothing great.

Death speaks: There was a merchant in Bagdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling and said, Master, just now when I was in the market-place I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw it was Death that jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture; now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me. The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went down to the market-place and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning? That was not a threatening gesture, I said, it was only a start of surprise. I was astonished to see him in Bagdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.

The purpose of Lent is not to force on us a few formal obligations, but to ‘soften’ our heart so that it may open itself to the realities of the spirit, to experience the hidden ‘thirst and hunger’ for communion with God.

We suffer these things and they fade form memory. But daily, hourly, to give up our own possessions and especially to subordinate our own impulses and wishes to to others - these are hard, hard things; and I don't think they ever get any easier. You can strip yourself, you can be stripped, but still you will reach out like an octopus to seek your own comfort, your untroubled time, your ease, your refreshment. It may mean books or music - the gratification of the inner sense - or it may mean food and drink, coffee and cigarettes. The one kind of giving up is no easier than the other.

Deserts unclutter the soul. The hot desert sun vaporizes all manner of luxuries. Then the cold, shelterless nights expose the essential guts of life. I needed to eat, to sleep, to be protected, and to not be alone. Lent had come half a year early. God asked me to fast mental and physical strength. He invited me into holy weakness. I found Jesus there.

Fasting is a practise that frees us from the chains of this world, allowing us to hunger more freely.for God.

Lent is a much-needed mentor in an age obsessed with visible, measurable, manageable, and tweetable increase, for it invites us to walk with Jesus and His disciples through darker seasons that we would rather avoid: grief, conflict, misunderstanding, betrayal, restriction, rejection, and pain. Then Easter leads us in celebration of salvation as the stunningly satisfying fruit of Jesus’ sacred decrease.

Self-denial means knowing only Christ, and no longer oneself. It means seeing only Christ, who goes ahead of us, and no longer the path that is too difficult for us… . Self-denial is saying only: He goes ahead of us; hold fast to him.

While that may be true, we really should be on our way. We've got that experiment we need to check on in the laboratory. Remember?' 'Actually, you're wrong again, my dear.' I was so mad I could scream some of the worst obscenities I'd heard at the docks at him. He was ruining our exit strategy, and I was most certainly not his dear. When I thought all hope was lost, Thomas checked his watch. 'We should've left precisely three minutes and twenty-three seconds ago. If we don't run now, our experiment will be destroyed.' He turned to the editor and superintendent. 'It's been as pleasant as a fast day in Lent, gentlemen.' By the time they figured out his parting was, in fact, an insult, we were already rushing out through the bustling newsroom.

Before the swallow, before the daffodil, and not much later than the snowdrop, the common toad salutes the coming of spring after his own fashion, which is to emerge from a hole in the ground, where he has lain buried since the previous autumn, and crawl as rapidly as possible towards the nearest suitable patch of water. Something – some kind of shudder in the earth, or perhaps merely a rise of a few degrees in the temperature – has told him it is time to wake up ... At this period, after his long fast, the toad has a very spiritual look, like a strict Anglo-Catholic towards the end of Lent. His movements are languid but purposeful, his body is shrunken, and by contrast his eyes look abnormally large. This allows one to notice, what one might not at any other time, that a toad has about the most beautiful eye of any living creature. It is like gold, or more exactly it is like the golden-coloured semi-precious stone which one sometimes sees in signet rings, and which I think is called a chrysoberyl.

Wedding Superstitions The Bridal Gown White - You have chosen right. Grey - You'll go far away. Black - You'll wish yourself back. Red - You'll wish yourself dead. Green - Ashamed to be seen. Blue - You'll always be true. Pearl - You'll live in a whirl. Peach - A love out of reach. Yellow - Ashamed of your fellow. Pink - Your Spirits will sink. The Wedding Day Monday for health, Tuesday for wealth, Wednesday best of all, Thursday for losses, Friday for crosses, Saturday for no luck at all. The Wedding Month Marry in May, and you'll rue the day, Marry in Lent, you'll live to repent. Married when the year is new, He'll be loving, kind and true. When February birds do mate, You wed nor dread your fate. If you wed when March winds blow, Joy and sorrow both you'll know. Marry in April when you can, Joy for maiden and the man. Marry in the month of May, And you'll surely rue the day. Marry when the June roses grow, Over land and sea you'll go. Those who in July do wed, Must labour for their daily bread. Whoever wed in August be, Many a change is sure to see. Marry in September's shine, Your living will be rich and fine. If in October you do marry, Love will come, but riches tarry. If you wed in bleak November, Only joys will come, remember, When December's snows fall fast, Marry and true love will last. Married in January's roar and rime, Widowed you'll be before your prime. Married in February's sleepy weather, Life you'll tread in time together. Married when March winds shrill and roar, Your home will lie on a distant shore. Married 'neath April's changeful skies, A checkered path before you lies. Married when bees o'er May blossoms flit, Strangers around your board will sit. Married in month of roses June, Life will be one long honeymoon. Married in July with flowers ablaze, Bitter-sweet memories in after days. Married in August's heat and drowse, Lover and friend in your chosen spouse. Married in September's golden glow, Smooth and serene your life will go. Married when leaves in October thin, Toil and hardships for you begin. Married in veils of November mist, Fortune your wedding ring has kissed. Married in days of December's cheer, Love's star shines brighter from year to year

It is impossible for those who tasted Christ to fall back upon the old foolish ways ,and if he or she does, then that act of commission or omission comes within the ambit of sin and that would indubitably imply that the person is  crucifying Christ all over again and exposing Him to contempt , being the bearer of His name ( Christian).

But at night came his revelry: at night he closed his shutters, and made fast his doors, and drew forth his gold. Long ago the heap of coins had become too large for the iron pot to hold them, and he had made for them two thick leather bags, which wasted no room in their resting-place, but lent themselves flexibly to every corner. How the guineas shone as they came pouring out of the dark leather mouths!

I remember when Vianne Rocher first moved into town all those years ago. That window, papered in orange and gold, just like a Chinese lantern. That scent of spices, and incense smoke, like something from the Arabian Nights. So many things have changed since then: now Vianne and I are almost friends. But how I resented that little shop, with its brightly colored awning, and the scent of vanilla and allspice and the bitter rasp of raw cacao drifting out into the air. How I longed to step in, to taste the wares in those glass cases! Now, I tell myself, I could. But though I do not fast for Lent, chocolate still seems one indulgence too far.

The habit of examining her conscience, instilled by the nuns when she was a child, hadn’t left her. Matelda reflected on past hurts done to her and took stock of those she had perpetrated on others. Tuscans might live in the moment, but the past lived in them. Even if that weren’t true, there were reminders tucked in every corner of her hometown. She knew Viareggio and its people as well as she knew her own body; in a sense, they were one. The mood turned grim in the village as the revelry of Carnevale ended and Lent began. The next forty days would be a somber time of reflection, fasting, and penance. Lent had felt like it lasted an eternity when she was a girl. Easter Sunday could not come soon enough. The day of relief. “You cannot have the joy of Easter Sunday without the agony of Good Friday,” her mother reminded them. “No cross, no crown,” she’d say in a dialect only her children understood. The resurrection of the Lord redeemed the village and set the children free. Black sacks were pulled off the statues of the saints. The bare altar was decorated anew with myrtle and daisies. Plain broth for sustenance during the fast was replaced with sweet bread. The scents of butter, orange zest, and honey as Mama kneaded the dough for Easter bread during Holy Week lifted their spirits. The taste of the soft egg bread, braided into loaves served hot from the oven and drenched in honey, meant the sacrifice was over, at least until

What rubbish, mon père. Does he think God actually answers prayers? God has no time to listen to petty grievances. Did he think that God would drop everything to look into his little life? Did he hope for divine intervention every time something went wrong? You see, this is the problem, mon père. People take things too literally. They expect the universe to revolve around their little preoccupations. They have no sense of the scale of things, no sense of their own insignificance. So God didn’t answer your prayers? Do not imagine you are alone. God doesn’t care that you are alone, or that you are suffering. If God made the stars, then why would He care whether or not you fast for Lent, or whether you drink alcohol, or even if you live or die—

Prayer was the rhythm of the Holy Father’s life. He made time to pray before and after his meals, and interspersed his Breviary prayers (the Liturgy of the Hours) throughout the day and night, calling it: “very important, very important.” At six in the morning, at noon, and again at six in the evening, he would stop whatever he was doing to pray the Angelus, just as he had done while working in the chemical plant in Poland. He prayed several Rosaries each day, went to confession every week, and did not let a day pass without receiving Holy Communion. Each Friday (and every day in Lent), he prayed the Stations of the Cross, and preferred to do this in the garden on the roof of the Papal Apartments. During Lent, he would eat one complete meal a day, and always fasted on the eve of our Lady’s feast days. He remarked, “If the bishop doesn’t set an example by fasting, then who will?” The Holy Father knew that his first duty to the Church was his interior life. He declared, “the shepherd should walk at the head and lay down his life for his sheep. He should be the first when it comes to sacrifice and devotion.” Each night, he looked out his window to Saint Peter’s Square and to the whole world, and made the sign of the cross over it, blessing the world goodnight.

Witness modern marriage. All rationality has clearly vanished from modern marriage; yet that is no objection to marriage, but to modernity. The rationality of marriage — that lay in the husband's sole juridical responsibility, which gave marriage a center of gravity, while today it limps on both legs. The rationality of marriage — that lay in its indissolubility in principle, which lent it an accent that could be heard above the accident of feeling, passion, and what is merely momentary. It also lay in the family's responsibility for the choice of a spouse. With the growing indulgence of love matches, the very foundation of marriage has been eliminated, that which alone makes an institution of it. Never, absolutely never, can an institution be founded on an idiosyncrasy; one cannot, as I have said, found marriage on "love" — it can be founded on the sex drive, on the property drive (wife and child as property), on the drive to dominate, which continually organizes for itself the smallest structure of domination, the family, and which needs children and heirs to hold fast — physiologically too — to an attained measure of power, influence, and wealth, in order to prepare for long-range tasks, for a solidarity of instinct between the centuries. Marriage as an institution involves the affirmation of the largest and most enduring form of organization: when society cannot affirm itself as a whole, down to the most distant generations, then marriage has altogether no meaning. Modern marriage has lost its meaning — consequently one abolishes it.

London has swallowed up many millions of young men called Smith... Lodging off the Euston Road, there were experiences, again experiences, such as change a face in two years from a pink innocent oval to a face lean, contracted, hostile. But of all this what could the most observant of friends have said except what a gardener says when he opens the conservatory door in the morning and finds a new blossom on his plant: — It has flowered; flowered from vanity, ambition, idealism, passion, loneliness, courage, laziness, the usual seeds, which all muddled up (in a room off the Euston Road), made him shy, and stammering, made him anxious to improve himself, made him fall in love with Miss Isabel Pole, lecturing in the Waterloo Road upon Shakespeare. Was he not like Keats? she asked; and reflected how she might give him a taste of Antony and Cleopatra and the rest; lent him books; wrote him scraps of letters; and lit in him such a fire as burns only once in a lifetime, without heat, flickering a red gold flame infinitely ethereal and insubstantial over Miss Pole; Antony and Cleopatra; and the Waterloo Road. He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which, ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink; he saw her, one summer evening, walking in a green dress in a in a green dress in a square. ‘It has flowered,’ the gardener might have said, had he opened the door; had he come in, that is to say, any night about this time, and found him writing; found him tearing up his writing; found him finishing a masterpiece at three o'clock in the morning and running out to pace the streets, and visiting churches, and fasting one day, drinking another, devouring Shakespeare, Darwin, The History of Civilisation, and Bernard Shaw.

According to his closest disciple who served him while patriarch, Fr Raphael Ava Mina, Kyrillos' diet was meager and austere. When he broke his fast around midday—having started the day with psalmody at three in the morning—it would inevitably be with a piece of bread (qorban) and dukkah. With much pleading, he could occasionally be convinced to add a few small spoons of beans. Often Kyrillos would be delayed by meetings and then he would have his breakfast only after three in the afternoon. For lunch, he would usually have some dried bread with a small number of cooked vegetables—but, Fr Raphael recalls, he would never actually eat the vegetables, but only dip his bread in their sauce. Before he slept, he would usually be satisfied with some fruit or bread at most. "I never saw him touch a piece of chicken or meat, or even have a sip of milk." That was during the non-fasting days. In fasting times, especially that of Lent and the Theotokos fast, even though he had been awake since the earliest hours of the morning, he would eat only once later in the evening. At one point during the fifty days of Resurrection, Kyrillos gave his regular cook a few days of leave, upon which Fr Raphael, who in his own words "did not know how to cook," thought to take care of the kitchen. Each evening he would lay out roasted chicken, a few small pieces of meat, rice, bread and cheese; only to find the chicken and meat untouched, with the bread and cheese eaten. Given the poor refrigeration of the day, each evening would see a new meal largely wasted. "I need to tell you something...I don't think he likes chicken," the disciple recalls telling the cook when he returned. Confused, the cook rebuked Fr Raphael, saying, "He would never eat it like that....You need to cut chicken so fine and mix it with the rice so that he cannot see it!" A man of sixty, physically large and athletic, and yet they had to trick him, lest he eat only bread and cumin.

Dès que le brouhaha s’apaise, les premières mesures du morceau suivant s’élèvent, profondes et lentes. Les tintements du triangle et des grelots résonnent, clairs échos du rythme grave des percussions. Alors, Anja se met à chanter. Tes yeux secs cherchent de l’eau dans cette ville morte Tes pieds en sang abreuvent la terre assoiffée Tu tombes et ne peux plus te lever… Elle vibre, exaltée comme chaque fois par la foule et le chant, flot d’émotions brutes, partagées, échangées avec ses compagnons, avec le public. Tressaillement soudain. Sensation moite et glacée. Un goût âcre envahit sa bouche, un goût de bile et de peur mêlées. Quelqu’un, au milieu de la foule, l’observe. Un regard glisse lentement sur elle, insistant, insidieux, pareil à la langue d’une bête répugnante sur sa peau. Celui qui la traque, l’épie depuis plusieurs semaines se trouve dans la foule ce soir, ombre sournoise et anonyme. La sirène tente d’apercevoir un visage, de surprendre la fixité d’une expression, en vain. Dans la salle, les yeux des spectateurs sont pareilles à des billes de ténèbres opaques, angoissantes. « Qui est-ce ? » « Que veut-il ? » « Est-ce que je le connais ? » « Est-ce lui, le responsable des disparitions ? » « A-t-il un lien avec cette momie ? » « Suis-je sa prochaine cible ? » Ces questions angoissantes, obsédantes, tournent en boucle dans sa tête, brisant la magie du concert. Anja parvient à faire bonne figure, interprète même une mélodie réclamée par le public. Mais se sent terriblement soulagée quand le concert s’achève. Stein repousse ses percussions dans un coin, salue ses deux amies d’un rapide signe de main et quitte la scène. Fast l’attend à l’autre bout de la salle bondée, accoudé au bar. Celui-ci, une antiquité rescapée du Cataclysme, consolidée par des planches de bois peintes, des plaques de tôles et d’épais morceaux de plastique, est la fierté de Senta, la propriétaire des lieux. Il a résisté aux tempêtes, aux pillards, aux siècles et porte comme autant de cicatrices gravées dans sa surface, les traces de milliers de vies.

As for the other experiences, the solitary ones, which people go through alone, in their bedrooms, in their offices, walking the fields and the streets of London, he had them; had left home, a mere boy, because of his mother; she lied; because he came down to tea for the fiftieth time with his hands unwashed; because he could see no future for a poet in Stroud; and so, making a confidant of his little sister, had gone to London leaving an absurd note behind him, such as great men have written, and the world has read later when the story of their struggles has become famous. London has swallowed up many millions of young men called Smith; thought nothing of fantastic Christian names like Septimus with which their parents have thought to distinguish them. Lodging off the Euston Road, there were experiences, again experiences, such as change a face in two years from a pink innocent oval to a face lean, contracted, hostile. But of all this what could the most observant of friends have said except what a gardener says when he opens the conservatory door in the morning and finds a new blossom on his plant: — It has flowered; flowered from vanity, ambition, idealism, passion, loneliness, courage, laziness, the usual seeds, which all muddled up (in a room off the Euston Road), made him shy, and stammering, made him anxious to improve himself, made him fall in love with Miss Isabel Pole, lecturing in the Waterloo Road upon Shakespeare. Was he not like Keats? she asked; and reflected how she might give him a taste of Antony and Cleopatra and the rest; lent him books; wrote him scraps of letters; and lit in him such a fire as burns only once in a lifetime, without heat, flickering a red gold flame infinitely ethereal and insubstantial over Miss Pole; Antony and Cleopatra; and the Waterloo Road. He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which, ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink; he saw her, one summer evening, walking in a green dress in a square. “It has flowered,” the gardener might have said, had he opened the door; had he come in, that is to say, any night about this time, and found him writing; found him tearing up his writing; found him finishing a masterpiece at three o’clock in the morning and running out to pace the streets, and visiting churches, and fasting one day, drinking another, devouring Shakespeare, Darwin, The History of Civilisation, and Bernard Shaw.

Saphira? he asked. Flecks of purple light danced around the interior of the pavilion as she twisted her neck and fixed her eyes upon Eragon’s. Little one? Should I go? I think you must. He pressed his lips together in a rigid line. And what of you? You know I hate to be separated from you, but Nasuada’s arguments are well reasoned. If I can help keep Murtagh and Thorn away by remaining with the Varden, then perhaps I should. His emotions and hers washed between their minds, tidal surges in a shared pool of anger, anticipation, reluctance, and tenderness. From him flowed the anger and reluctance; from her other, gentler sentiments—as rich in scope as his own—that moderated his choleric passion and lent him perspectives he would not otherwise have. Nevertheless, he clung with stubborn insistence to his opposition to Nasuada’s scheme. If you flew me to Farthen Dûr, I would not be gone for as long, meaning Galbatorix would have less of an opportunity to mount a new assault. But his spies would tell him the Varden were vulnerable the moment we left. I do not want to part with you again so soon after Helgrind. Our own desires cannot take precedence over the needs of the Varden, but no, I do not want to part with you either. Still, remember what Oromis said, that the prowess of a dragon and Rider is measured not only by how well they work together but also by how well they can function when apart. We are both mature enough to operate independently of each other, Eragon, however much we may dislike the prospect. You proved that yourself during your trip from Helgrind. Would it bother you fighting with Arya on your back, as Nasuada mentioned? Her I would mind least of all. We have fought together before, and it was she who ferried me across Alagaësia for nigh on twenty years when I was in my egg. You know that, little one. Why pose this question? Are you jealous? What if I am? An amused twinkle lit her sapphire eyes. She flicked her tongue at him. Then it is very sweet of you…. Would you I should stay or go? It is your choice to make, not mine. But it affects us both. Eragon dug at the ground with the tip of his boot. Then he said, If we must participate in this mad scheme, we should do everything we can to help it succeed. Stay, and see if you can keep Nasuada from losing her head over this thrice-blasted plan of hers. Be of good cheer, little one. Run fast, and we shall be reunited in short order. Eragon looked up at Nasuada. “Very well,” he said, “I will go.

Alice knows those stories. The routiers and condottieri of the Free Companies, who fight the wars of whichever prince will pay their fees, and amuse themselves in between times, are said to commit every kind of crime: from eating meat in Lent to slitting open pregnant women to kill their unborn and unbaptised children. The countryside of the southern lands is supposed to be full of their victims: a sea of vagabonds - priests without parishes; destitute peasants; artisans looking for work. ‘So you’, Alice says, ‘were one of the famous sons of iniquity…’ The Pope calls them that when they rob churches. But the Pope also uses them regularly. Alice knows she sounds a little breathless. She can’t altogether keep the admiration out of her voice. If she’d been a man, she thinks, she might have done exactly the same thing as Wat, to better herself fast.

Our True Needs Do you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? Isaiah 58:5 In this chapter the prophet Isaiah chastises the people for using their fast to put on a “spiritual show.” Afflicting themselves and lying in the ashes are today’s equivalent of moaning and groaning, whining about our self-imposed deprivation or our fatigue from good deeds, just to position ourselves in the holiest light. This is not the intended spirit behind a fast. A fast should be a quiet, private matter between us and God. Sometimes we fast from nourishment to remind ourselves that our sustenance and fulfillment are found in God. Our hunger reminds us of our truest need, and we realign ourselves in communion with our Savior. But we can do other kinds of fasts as well. I have fasted from negative thinking, from judgment, from complaining, from materialism and from overscheduling—and have found these fasts to be incredibly edifying and healing. Fasting can be about deprivation, but not always. Sometimes we are blessed when we learn to starve the parts of ourselves that do not glorify God and feed the parts that do. Kristin Armstrong

Fasting makes sense if it questions our security, and if it also leads to some benefit for others, if it helps us to cultivate the style of the Good Samaritan, who bends down to his brother in need and takes care of him. 3/5/14

Han stilte seg bak henne, ho lente seg mot han, og han heldt henne fast inntil seg, la ansiktet inn mot håret hennar, ho kunne kjenne pusten hans. Lenge sto dei slik.

Of Rome's wealth in the Middle Ages de Rosa says: "The cardinals had huge palaces with countless servants. One papal aide reported that he never went to see a cardinal without finding him counting his gold coins. The Curia was made up of men who had bought office and were desperate to recoup their enormous outlay. . . . For every benefice of see, abbey and parish, for every indulgence there was a set fee. The pallium, the two-inch-wide woollen band with crosses embroidered on it . . . paid for by every bishop. . . brought in. . . hundreds of millions of gold florins to the papal coffers. . . . [T]he Councilof Basle in 1432 was to call it 'the most usurious contrivance ever invented. . . . '" De Rosa continues:       Dispensations were another source of papal revenue. Extremely severe, even impossible, laws were passed so that the Curia could grow rich by selling dispensations . . . [such as] from fasting during Lent. . . . Marriage in particular was a rich source of income. Consanguinity was alleged to hold between couples who had never dreamed they were related. Dispensations from consanguinity in order to marry amounted to a million gold florins a year.26 An Eyewitness Account from Spain D. Antonio

When fasting from our own desires, we are more able to connect to the needs the greater whole. Further

The priests received special treatment, for the last nine days of the festival of Mars were meant to be fast-days except for priests; the breaking of the fast on 25 March is thought by some scholars to be the origin of Mardi Gras, instead of the ‘fat Tuesday’ before Christian Lent.

That afternoon, I purchased a bunch of daffodils for the table, and the sister who was home when I arrived got up to find a vase. We talked about Lent, and she told me that for most of her life she had considered it only in punitive terms, as a time of self-denial. “Now,” she said, “I still fast, but my reasons for fasting have changed.” She hoped to recover Lent as an aspect of spring itself, a time of waiting, but also of burgeoning hopes. For her this meant paying close attention to things like intake of food and the acquiring of possessions not in order to punish herself but to more fully honor the good things in life.

She read stuff as fast as he could give it to her. And when she handed it back to him the next morning, she always acted as if she were handing him something fragile. Something precious. You wouldn’t even know that she touched the comics except for the smell. Every book Park lent her came back smelling like perfume. Not like the perfume his mom wore. (Imari.) And not like the new girl; she smelled like vanilla.

The lent period of fasting should be passionately pursued .

Religious believers build self-control by regularly forcing themselves to interrupt their daily routines in order to pray. Some religions, like Islam, require prayers at fixed times every day. Many religions prescribe periods of fasting, like the day of Yom Kippur, the month of Ramadan, and the forty days of Lent. Religions mandate specific patterns of eating, like kosher food or vegetarianism. Some services and meditations require the believer to adopt and hold specific poses (like kneeling, or sitting cross-legged in the lotus position) so long that they become uncomfortable and require discipline to maintain them.

Sixty years ago, the Church obliged her members to fast each day of Lent. We had one meal a day for 40 days. No fasting on Sunday — which was and is considered a feast day, to recognize the resurrection of Jesus. The graces from this fast were unbelievable; many prayers were answered

A great deal of power is thus lost in the Church. Fastings and vigils, without a special object in view, are time run to waste. They are made to minister to a sort of self-gratification, instead of being turned to account for the good of others. They are like groaning in sickness. Some people amuse themselves when ill with continuous moaning. The forty days of Lent might be annually spent in visiting adjacent tribes, and bearing unavoidable hunger and thirst with a good grace. Considering

Find out whether the methods used to keep fruits and vegetables healthy will keep the earth healthy as well. Find out whether the living conditions and wages of workers at farms and processing factories are just or unjust. And then eat what is just and merciful, fast from what is unjust and cruel. This ethical approach to eating and fasting puts us in touch with our fellow humans and with the rest of God's world and leads us to become wiser stewards of God's creation.

Let your Spirit, O Lord, come into the midst of us to wash us with the pure water of repentance, and prepare us to be always a living sacrifice to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. Lesser Feasts and Fasts

O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Denying truth hinders our ability to be in right relationship with the world and with our loved ones in a variety of ways. While confronting the root and digesting the fruit of our pain and grief is a bitter experience, when we refuse to deny the truth, we may find that we are, in fact, embraced and held fast by a God who offers the unchangeable truth of love.

hunger builds up Lord for more than I need, while others go needing for less than I crave. may my fast be one of the heart and the body teach me to want what is gifting indeed.

For hundreds of years, the church would fast twice a week: Wednesdays and Fridays. That was just what you did if you were a Christian. In the fourth century, when the church developed the practice of Lent, it was originally a fast similar to Islam’s Ramadan. As a lead-up to Easter, followers of Jesus would wake and go without food until sunset. For forty days. Every year. Please note: go without food.

The words of Socrates, writing on this very subject, about A.D. 450, are these: "Those who inhabit the princely city of Rome fast together before Easter three weeks, excepting the Saturday and Lord's-day." But at last, when the worship of Astarte was rising into the ascendant, steps were taken to get the whole Chaldean Lent of six weeks, or forty days, made imperative on all within the Roman empire of the West. The way was prepared for this by a Council held at Aurelia in the time of Hormisidas, Bishop of Rome, about the year 519, which decreed that Lent should be solemnly kept before Easter.

On top of the mountain of Croagh Patrick in Connaught, he spent the forty days of Lent, watching, and fasting, and praying. And the tradition goes, as recorded by the Monk Jocelin that it was from this mountaintop he commanded all the serpents and venomous things in Ireland, driving them into the ocean, and ridding Ireland of all viperous things forever.[40

Left-Handedness The 10 percent of human beings who are left-handed have long been considered unlucky, deceptive, or even evil in cultures the world over. During the Spanish Inquisition the Catholic Church condemned those who used their left hand. Zulu tribesmen of the 1800s placed the left hands of children into holes filled with boiling water to discourage their use. The nineteenth-century criminologist and white supremacist Cesare Lombroso lent dangerous authority to the long-standing social stigma, claiming a scientific connection between left-handedness, moral degeneracy, and the “savage races.” No wonder schoolteachers continued discouraging it in students, often through physical abuse. J. W. Conway’s 1935 On Curing the Disability and Disease of Left-Handedness argued that being a lefty was a handicap in a world that was industrializing and standardizing. Handicap? Turns out being a southpaw is a fast lane to the West Wing. Seven of our last fifteen presidents—that’s a whopping 47 percent—have been left-handed. I’m not sure what that means but I’m sure a CNN panel will eventually sort it out.

In Old English, spring is called lencten, a word which derives from the same Germanic root as ‘long’ and ‘lengthen’, denoting the season when the days are growing longer. After the conversion, lencten also came to be used for the season of fasting before Easter, and so became the origin of the word ‘Lent’.

At this period, after his long fast, the toad has a very spiritual look, like a strict Anglo-Catholic towards the end of Lent. George Orwell, cited by John Carey

Ember Days in the Early 1900s The days of obligatory fasting as listed in the 1917 Code of Canon Law were the forty days of Lent (including Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday until noon); the Ember Days; and the Vigils of Pentecost, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, All Saints, and Christmas. Partial abstinence, the eating of meat only at the principal meal, was obligatory on all weekdays of Lent (Monday through Thursday). And of course, complete abstinence was required on all Fridays, including Fridays of Lent, except when a holy day of obligation fell on a Friday outside of Lent. Saturdays in Lent were likewise days of complete abstinence. Fasting and abstinence were not observed should a vigil fall on a Sunday as stated in the code: “If a vigil that is a fast day falls on a Sunday the fast is not to be anticipated on Saturday but is dropped altogether that year.

The liturgical year roots our faith. It grounds the invisible, animating our lives in the visible, tactile world. It is elemental. It drapes flesh on the skeletons of our too-ghostly religiosity. It connects heaven with earth, divine with human. It allows us to access the mysteries of our faith. In its feasts and fasts we taste and see God.

Fasting is denying the flesh the fleeting pleasures of this world. 

Almost all hard cultures have some ritual focused on voluntary self-denial, such as Ramadan, Lent, or the Fast of the Firstborn. The question is, why? Why do cultures that practice something that makes membership less pleasant historically outcompete cultures that encourage people to indulge in whatever they want? This question becomes more pointed when we look at how common it is for pop cultures to emotionally reward people for succumbing to their base desires, as is seen in pop culture outputs like the Intuitive Eating Movement, which entails telling people they are being healthy by eating whatever they want whenever they want in an age in which we’re surrounded with an abundance of foods that are designed to be highly addictive. Movements telling people to indulge in their immediate desires have been around since the ancient Greeks. These movements resurface during every civilization’s brief golden age and only seem to be successful in the short run. While the pop cultures that produce them consistently die, stodgy hard cultures persist. Why?

But the mortification of the threefold concupiscence is not just for monks, nuns, and priests. According to our state in life, all of us have to overcome this temptation to sin. Our traditional Lenten disciplines (prayer, fasting, almsgiving) are intended to help us in this. Fasting mortifies lust of the flesh. Almsgiving mortifies lust of the eyes (greed, avarice). And prayer mortifies pride by acknowledging our dependence on God (“Give us our daily bread.” [Matt 6:11 GW]) and submitting our will to his (“Thy will be done” [6:10]). Let’s unite our efforts to Jesus’s powerful work of redemption by faith and let his Spirit work in us this Lent through the means our Lenten disciplines.

Fear gives way to courage. We are asked to fast from the ego’s fearful thinking and fill ourselves instead with faith. The Muslims mark this change with Ramadan, the Jews with Purim, the Catholics with Lent.

the disciples’ illusions of what Jesus could and should do with His power were shattered by the reality of what Jesus actually did with His power, and their personal illusions of commitment-unto-death were shattered by the reality of fear-inspired self-protection.

The penitential practices of Lent join to Christ’s passion our own sufferings: voluntary (fasting, acts of penance and charity) and involuntary (sickness, financial loss, family problems, social prejudice and violence).

The Church tradition knows fasting especially connected with the Eucharist and at times such as Lent and in preparation for feast days.  This tradition has been kept for many centuries although recently all traces of fasting have nearly disappeared in the Church. Only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday have remained but even these two days of fasting have lost their real practice and true meaning.

The problem is a broad and complicated one. There is, first, the very problematic of penance and asceticism for modern men and women—a problem which, unlike the Protestant rejection of penance, comes from modern psychology, and the quest for meaning and sincerity in an increasingly dehumanized technological world. Modern Christians reject penance and asceticism because they often lead to the distortion or destruction of more important human values. Hard things are not necessarily good things. . . . And anyway, what is the value of self-inflicted pain for modern men and women whose whole drive is to eliminate pain, to develop in freedom the autonomous self?6 Perhaps in our day, a rediscovery of Lent may help marry the modern celebration of grace with the mystery of sacrificial love treasured by the ancients. Today’s Reading: John 20:24–31 [Your Notes]

Homo Vitae Commodatus Non Donatus Est.”(Man’s life is lent, not given.)  The next second, Lever struck. Hard and fast, just like he was trained.

Think slow, act fast” may not be a new idea. It was on grand display back in 1931, after all, when the Empire State Building raced to the sky. You could even say that the idea goes at least as far back as Rome’s first emperor, the mighty Caesar Augustus, whose personal motto was “Festina lente,” or “Make haste slowly.