Scarcity, Abundance, and Fasting

Scarcity, Abundance, and Fasting

In today’s (June 1, 2012) Daily Episcopalian on the Episcopal Café web site Dr. W. Christopher Evans discusses how, “Lent has been one of my least favorite seasons of the Church for a very long time.” As he talks about this he makes some insightful comments about how we as Americans view scarcity, abundance, and fasting. What follows are excerpts from his post.

“The Rule of Saint Benedict could just as easily be called A Small Catechism on Discipleship or A Manual of Christian Communal Wisdom. Rule in this case is closer to what our Jewish kin understand of Torah or Instruction. Rule is a Way of Living in response to God’s goodness and gifting. … William Temple puts it this way,

Man is a part of the system of nature, whatever else he may be beside. He must study the ways of nature and follow them, for he is utterly dependent on the natural world. Consequently, he must not think of natural resources as there for him to exploit to his own immediate advantage, but must rather co-operate with the natural process and so, in the long run, gain a far greater advantage. This is of primary importance in relation to man’s treatment of the soil. Nature is man’s partner rather than his servant; he is dependent on it for the means of life. For the Christian this is recognized as a pact of creatureship. The treatment of the earth by man the exploiter is not only imprudent but sacrilegious. We are not likely to correct our hideous mistakes in this realm unless we recover the mystical sense of our one-ness with nature. I labour this precisely because many people think it fantastic; I think it is fundamental to sanity (Temple, The Hope of a New World, 67).

…Wisdom can be revisited, adapted, revised as new times call for new interpretations of instructions or even development of new practices. And in each age, distinct practices and interpretations of received wisdom will emerge to make Jesus known in this time and place and culture while always drawing up in themselves that which has been passed on to us from faithful ancestors.

…

Take our patterns of consumption.

The practice that considers our patterns of consumption has a traditional term, “fasting.” And how quickly at Easter we throw aside any Lenten wisdom practice of this sort, no matter how meager our discipline, rather than reinvigorate it in light of the Resurrection, Ascension, and Sending of the Spirit. We moan about giving up chocolate or meat and rejoice when we can indulge incessantly again.

But fasting is about balance, harmony, and life. If we peel away the layers of this practice, century after century what emerges is not a body-hating, pleasure-hating orientation, but a concern for vulnerable others’ having life in a world of limited and finite capacities.

Limited and finite and vulnerable are dirty words for us in the overdeveloped world. We believe that growth and more and security are inevitable. This is the language of our economy. We like to hear about the abundance of God in Christ and translate that into attitudes and practices of abundance on the level of creatures that do not take into account the fullness of the Incarnation.

We do not want to hear about what limited and finite and vulnerability imply, namely, the possibility of scarcity because we do not experience scarcity. Yet, many on this earth do experience scarcity and our words of abundance to us and to them cannot mask that we as a society are living for ourselves and beyond the capacities of earth—even to the point of perverting the Gospel to justify our overuse.

But, we cannot escape facing our creaturehood. Even the capacity of the soil is limited and finite for the production of grains and vegetables and fruits. And we are poisoning and overworking the soil. The capacity for rivers to support salmon and trout and frogs is vulnerable. And we are poisoning and diverting the rivers. I could go on.

No, a truly Christian practice of the abundance of God’s Resurrection grace in a limited and finite and vulnerable world is not a practice of growth and more and security in the language of American economics, but a practice of enough and sharing, and yes, abstinence in the language of God’s Economy revealed in the Incarnation.

Fasting in every season is a way of living oriented toward our not taking more than need and a way of considering the needs of others. Such a practice considers the needs of other human beings as well as those of other elemental, living, and sentient beings. Unlike the practices of American economics, such a practice considers not only enough and sharing and abstinence, but also fragility, uniqueness, and beauty in any economic calculus precisely because the Creator became a creature in Christ Jesus.

As William Temple reminds us,… a land-owner must not be allowed to develop his land for his own profit in a way which destroys its capacity to produce wealth or otherwise minister to the general good for generations to come. In this connexion, let us remember that natural beauty is a spiritual treasure; to convert it into ugliness for personal economic gain is wicked. (Temple, The Hope of a New World, 67).”