Fast

The season of Lent teaches us to return to basics; namely, the three basics of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving (or mercy). This year, Pope Benedict has focused especially upon fasting.

Fasting from food is unique to us humans. Other animals may go without eating for any number of natural reasons. A domesticated animal may even be trained to refuse food as a conditioned behavior. But an animal has no spiritual nature; it does not have the faculty of volition, of free will, and so cannot deliberately choose to abstain from what its instincts, appetites, or conditioning demand. It cannot fast. Neither can angels fast; having no physical bodies, they have no need of food in the first place. To engage in fasting, one must be both physical and spiritual at the same time. We humans are the only creatures that fit the bill. It's a privilege, when you think of it; we can offer to our Creator something which no other creature can offer.

And so, the kind of fast that the discipline of Lent prescribes is the kind that engages both our physical and our spiritual natures. A non-religious person may fast solely for reasons of health or weight control. A hedonist may fast to heighten his pleasure in eating afterward. Such fasts could not be considered true Lenten practices, because they are merely physical; they do not connect with the spiritual partner of fasting which is prayer.

Likewise, a fast that does not connect with its other partner, almsgiving or mercy, is not a true Lenten fast. The religious person may fast severely and pray earnestly, but if he fails to give in concrete ways, his fast is incomplete, and his spiritual discipline is pointless. Chapter 58 of Isaiah rails against this kind of false fast, and Jesus condemned those who prayed and fasted rigorously, but whose hearts were far from both God and their neighbor in need. (e.g. Lk.18:9-14, Lk.5:29-35)

Fasting, then, as both a spiritual and physical reality is a sort of bridge uniting prayer and mercy. The essential harmony of these elements is perhaps best summarized by St. Peter Chrysologus:

Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others, you open God's ear to yourself
  - Sermo 43: PL 52, 320. 322.

So, hold the mayo. And hold the burger, too. Hold the pickle, bun, tomato... lettuce... pray.

Cultivation

A garden is an excellent metaphor for civilization. A garden is a thing of nature, and most of us gardeners are nature lovers. At the same time, a garden goes beyond nature; it is a harnessing of natural energy to dramatically enhance nature's fruitfulness and loveliness. In harmony with nature, the garden moves beyond mere nature.

In a similar way, let no one deny that man is a natural being, an animal with all the drives, instincts, and appetites thereof. But the basis of civilization is man moving beyond mere animal nature. In harmony with his animal nature and with his unique nature as a rational and spiritual being, civilized man seeks to harness his natural energy in a controlled and orderly manner.

Unfettered nature is not a garden. Unfettered nature is a random mixture of wild plants and animals. Left untended, a garden will easily revert to such a wild and unordered randomness, the weeds and vermin moving in and obliterating the order and fruitfulness. A garden takes hard work and constant vigilance; a weed patch requires no effort.

To be sure, there is beauty and life outside the garden fence, and the gardener might be tempted to wonder if his labor is worthwhile. Does it really make much difference? A casual observer might even accuse the gardener of being a control freak, of engaging in repression and manipulation. Indeed, from some plants' perspective, the gardener would be have to be regarded as a violent killer, spending much of his energy in uprooting or digging up the plants he doesn't like. So, it would seem that the more liberal and caring approach would be to cease such mean-spirited oppression, and instead allow full rein to the uninhibited forces of nature. Relax, let the forces of nature flow freely, and celebrate the increasing diversity and freedom that would result.

But time is the proof. In April, the garden looks rather barren compared to the wild meadow. By mid-July, the superior fruitfulness of the garden is apparent. And later still, when the bitter winds of January howl outside the door, the gardener's well-stocked larder and root cellar remove all doubts about the garden's worth.

My point is, of course, that our culture's moral demise, its 'Slouching Towards Gomorrah', is a very effortless movement, and may even appear quite attractive, but will prove fruitless and barren in the end.