A Lenten Homily
“Then John’s disciples came and asked him, 'How is it that we and the Pharisees fast often, but your disciples do not fast?' Jesus answered, 'How can the guests of the bridegroom mourn while he is with them? The time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; then they will fast.'”
Matthew 9:14-15 NIV
As we enter the season of lent, it is only right that we should come to this passage about fasting. I don’t think that John the Baptist’s disciples were trying to undermine Jesus or trick him into revealing himself as a fraud when they asked him why he and his disciples did not fast. I also don’t think their misunderstanding was with what fasting is or its value. Their misunderstanding, I think, was actually their inability to grasp the gravity of the situation they found themselves in. Fasting is a discipline of somber hope. It is something we do to mourn the corruption of God's vision for the world. We strip away the shattered physical things of this world so that we might focus our hope in Jesus alone. Leaving behind idols and attachments and an assortment of other things that are actually nothing, we avail ourselves to hoping in the one thing that is: God, his Son, the coming of his kingdom on earth. John the Baptist’s disciples were standing face to face with the one they had been fasting for, asking him why he didn’t hope for his coming. He was there. Within feet of their very bodies. While I wish we had a record of their reactions upon learning that what they had hoped for had finally come and was standing with them right then, we don't. And while it is undoubtedly true that we live in a time that calls for much fasting and mourning and hoping, I can’t help but wonder how often we are blinded to the provision and coming and fulfillment of God and his kingdom in our life. How often do we let faithful practices of grief turn joy into despair? And most importantly, how can we reclaim those practices and the life-bringing power they hold and submit them to Christ again? I think one way we can is by coming to the communion table, week in and week out, confessing our sin and our proclivity for despair and repenting. And the proof is in the pudding‒ Have we ever come to this table and not left with joy and laughter? I can’t think of a time that we have. So as you come to the table today, let go of your despair and giggle as you pass the elements to each other because Jesus is with us at the table, within feet of our very bodies. We need not fast for him here. Amen.