Thomas J Parlette
“A Different Kind of Fast”
Isaiah 58: 1-12
2/23/20
Last week, we spent some time with the prophet Micah – one of the minor prophets who had some major things to say. He left us with a wonderful religious mission statement. “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with your God.”
This week, we turn to one of his contemporaries, the major prophet Isaiah. In this passage for today, Isaiah puts flesh on the bones of the concept of justice; we see him tackling just labor and employment practices, sharing bread, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, showing oneself to your own kin.
In both passages for today, from Matthew, where we are described as salt and light, to Isaiah, we are shown the HOW to last week’s WHAT. Last week we heard what God requires. Today we hear how God wants it done.
The religious and political leaders of Judah had been living in exile in Babylon, taken as captives by the conquering army of Nebuchadnezzar. Jerusalem was a defeated city. Its temple destroyed; it’s walls crumbled. The exiles had lost all hope of returning.
Perhaps many of them remembered that Isaiah also declared God’s promise of deliverance, a new exodus. “Comfort, O Comfort my people, says your God, speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to her that she has served her term, that he penalty is paid…”
One day, they would return home. Just like Moses led the people from Egyptian bondage, so would God lead them out of Babylonian captivity. Soon, God’s promise would come true. “Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together…”
Then King Cyrus freed the captives and gave them permission to return to Jerusalem and rebuild their temple. Some went back, but not everyone. Some of the exiles had carved out a successful living and chose to stay in Babylon. But about 50 years later, these more “well-to-do” exiles decided to go back to their homeland.
But when they arrived, they were taken aback by what they found. Rubble everywhere. Nobody had even tried to rebuild the temple – let alone the city wall. Worse yet, no one seemed to care! How could these wretched people live in this mess for fifty years, and not do anything at all to improve things? If anything, the city was in worse shape now than it was when the exiles were carted off to Babylon.
Now remember, the returning people had been the “crème de la crème” of society. They, or their parents and grandparents, had been the cream of the crop, the top of the heap. They were wealthy nobles and landowners in Judah before the exile. Since they were forbidden to own property in Babylon, many became bankers and business people on one the world’s most powerful empires.
It was this group of “haves” who expected to be welcomed home by a rejoicing city of “have-nots” as they marched triumphantly through the streets of Jerusalem. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the exiles returned to rubble, rubble toil and trouble.
They observed new people in leadership positions, new people occupying their vineyards and farms, new people living in their old homes.
So they tried everything from appealing to people’s sense of guilt to new organizational structures and planning models to put themselves back on top again. But nothing seemed to change. Nothing aroused the “wretched ones” to change the present state of affairs.
Finally, they became even more rigid and demanding in their spiritual and religious practices. Surely this would show God how serious and worthy they were. Surely this would convince the lazy among them to begin the rebuilding task. They put on sack cloth and smeared their bodies with ashes. They practiced fasting with strict intensity.
But this didn’t seem to have any effect, as Isaiah notes the people asking, “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” Why are we doing this, they wonder. Nothing is happening – nothing changes.
In the ancient near east, fasting was meant to influence a deity to act on behalf of the one fasting. Usually, a fast occurred to ease a drought, bring help with a military invasion, to exorcise a demon, or to lessen the severity of a political or economic crisis. The act of lying in sack cloth and ashes was a sign of mourning, lament, and penitence.
Now the people were wondering why are we dirty, hungry and badly dressed if God isn’t going to do anything!
This is where Isaiah introduces the idea of a different kind of fast. Isaiah says, “Look, God knows you’re only doing all these pious acts for your own self-interest. You don’t really mean it. You act religious, but you mistreat your workers, you ignore people in need and you do nothing but quarrel and fight. You call this a fast. You call this a day acceptable to the Lord?”
“Do you want to know what kind of fast I want? This is the fast I want:
To loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke.
I want a fast where you share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and do not hide yourself from your kin – a way of saying stop ignoring the people you see who are obviously in need.
Participate in that kind of fast and you light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. The you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.
If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like noonday.
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.”
The true fast will be a life filled with acts of concrete justice and mercy that are practical – that touch upon basic human needs such as clothes, food, wages, and shelter. Isaiah is clear about this and instructs listeners to be as generous as possible, to share not sparingly but abundantly; “Pour yourself,” Isaiah writes, or more directly, “pour out yourself.” If you fast this way – I will be in your presence.
The connection between religious ritual, in this case fasting, and acts of justice and mercy calls to mind the quote from John Chrysostom: “If you cannot find Christ in the beggar at the Church door, you will not find him in the chalice.”(1)
Jesus may have had Isaiah words about a different kind of fast in the back of his mind when he described his disciples as Salt and Light. Both salt and light were commodities in Jesus day. They were expensive and sometimes a luxury. The purpose of any commodity is to be used. Nobody lights a lamp with costly oil, just to cover it up – No, you use it to give light to whole house. Salt is worthless unless you use it – then it has value. Jesus is saying that our lives operate in a similar way. We are a valuable resource to be poured out and never hidden – just as Isaiah says.
These two texts, taken together, seem to indicate that the only thing keeping us from attending to the basic needs of the world in practical ways is our won barriers, our failure to spend ourselves and our resources freely.
As Karoline Lewis points out, “It is not enough to know ABOUT God. As disciples, we have to be the ACTIVITY of God in the world. We are called to live out our identity as salt and light.” Or, as Bryant McGill once said, “We are here to spend ourselves.”(2)
I realize as I say these words that many of you have spent yourselves for many years in many different ways. I realize that none of us have unlimited energy and resources – spiritually and emotionally – to just keep pouring ourselves out in the interest of justice and righteousness. Sometimes we are just tired. Sometimes our lights don’t burn so bright because we’re running low on oil. Sometimes we osr oue saltiness. There are moments when we are in need of basic care, when we are not up to showing up and certainly could not imagine leading the kind of revolution that Isaiah and Matthew call us too.
When we are living in those times, we are called to lean on each other, and lean also on our God – who is never low on resources.
I like the story Kat Banakis tells in a recent Christian Century. She writes, “When Methodist minister Lanecia Rouse Tinsley lost a child, she found solace in creating abstract visual art. She was working through a particularly challenging commission, and her local art supplier encouraged her, “Just remember that the canvas is big enough to hold all of your truth and all of your energy.” She has since wondered why she never heard that message in church about God – that God is big enough to hold all of our truth and all of our unknowing and grief and anger – all the times when salt has lost it’s saltiness.(3) All the times when we are a little low on oil for our lamps.
Today, Isaiah calls us to a different kind of fast. The kind of fast where we spend ourselves, to set people free, to feed the hungry and tend to those in need. These are things that give glory to God.
May God be praised. Amen.
1. Kat Banakis, Christian Century, January 29th 2020, p19.
2. Ibid…
3. Ibid…
3. Ibid…
