As a Protestant Christian, fasting has been something that was not an important part of the faith, except for certain individuals or groups or churches who stressed its worth. The Christian bible speaks little about fasting except when Jesus casts out the demon and says that one cannot do this without prayer (and some sources say "and fasting.") At another point the Pharisees ask him why the disciples are not fasting and he answers that "one does not fast when the bridegroom is with you. When the bridegroom leaves is time for fasting."
Through the years, fasting was encouraged by Catholics, Mormons, Jews and others but only on certain days. Meat was not allowed at specified meals and holidays, but few religions fast as the Muslim religion does. Ramadan, the ninth month of the Muslim calendar, is a mandatory fasting period for one full month, in which the Muslim must abstain from food, drink, smoking, profane language, and sexual intercourse from before the break of dawn until the sunset. There are other special days in the calendar year in which some Muslims observe the fast.
I wrote to my Iranian friend and asked him, as a Muslim, to explain fasting to me, a non-fasting protestant Christian. What do people benefit from this practice? In my practical Baptist/Presbyterian outlook there are reasons to keep the body fed; to feed the poor, and use one's energy to the benefit of God. As a child I learned the song, "Brighten the Corner Where You Are." My God requires much of me, but fasting is far down on the list, as I have seen it. Be well fed, love thy God with all thy heart and soul and thy neighbor as thyself--and these commands are hard enough to live by without adding fasting.
However, with Ali's friendship I have grown to respect and treasure other customs and backgrounds than my own. Fasting symbolizes something very profound: a closeness to and concentration on God, a a response to what is seen as God's direction in our lives, improvement in one's spiritual outlook, purification and freeing of the mind; it is an aid to control fleshly desires, it is a penance for sins, and a solidarity with those in need. But, to me, the main reason I would fast would be to remind me of human frailty and the need for God's direction in my life.
And then, in the midst of my quest for understanding the fast, Ali, my teacher friend in Iran, spoke to me through the magic of the internet. His answer to my question, "Why do you fast?" follows:
"Hi, Sue.
Ramadan has spread its scent everywhere around us here. About 20 years ago I saw a 105 year old man cutting wood for his winter with his ax in the middle of a summer day. I told his great grand son, "Why don't you tell him to break his fast? It is very dangerous for him." He answered, "We tell him but he says that even if he dies at this very moment he won't break his fast." And in his own way he had made it to the age of 105 years.
When explaining the Ramadan and all the reasons that make it meaningful in our eyes, I didn't mention one very important factor. It is something that can only be said to close friends. Sue, there may be a thousand and one reasons in observing the fasting, but to me the only important reason is that the Friend has asked me to do it. There may be a thousand and one reasons in reading the letters you send me like getting to know America and its culture, improving my understanding of your language and etc, but the true, main reason I do this is that a friend wants me to, that it carries the scent of a friend. Does this leave room for any other consideration, my very dear friend?
Delazin is calling in her beautiful, childish voice, "Daddy, it's the Azan. Come on and break your fast."
Time to sit on Iftar's Sofre.
Ali"
How has my friendship with Ali empowered my soul? In small ways, I know that he sees friendship beginning with God. The Friend is a way many Muslims refer to God. I think of him as The Father, and so my vision is widened. I also know that Ali treasures our "acquaintance" enough to answer my personal questions and extend his idea of friendship to me and others around him.
Delazin is Ali's small daughter and I can picture his home when she reminds him that the call to prayer (AZAN) that breaks the fast has been sung, and it is time to come to the Iftar's Sofre. (the fast-breaking meal's table.)
As our world becomes more and more secular, these symbolic tributes to something beyond us seem more and more important, but at the same time, they become more remote and less vital. As a dear friend once told me, "It's an undergirding that is so important": that, and a humbling reminder of our need and nature.
