Mapping the Journey - The Fast

As I look back to the beginning of this journey into the writing of "Map the Bible," I feel compelled to share the learning process, which has already led to greater discoveries than I intended to communicate in the curriculum, mainly because of the very controversial nature of much of the subject matter.  I am providing background for the sake of context and in hopes of remaining transparent about what won't be covered in the Map the Bible series...and why.  Consider this a look behind the scenes...and into my heart.

This journey began in early September of this year (2013) with a "Daniel Fast," a diet restriction based on chapters 1 and 10 in the book of Daniel, with the purpose of seeking God and His direction more wholeheartedly than would be otherwise possible.  I was not aware at the time that I would be writing a book; I just wanted to get my heart right toward God.  He had been showing me some things I needed to address that were affecting my ability to mature in my walk with Him, and I was losing sleep over them.  I felt compelled to begin a tempered fast (I didn't feel ready to stop eating altogether), and chose a date to begin.  This choice was unrelated to my later acknowledgment that Rosh Hashanah was upon us, the Jewish New Year, a call to repentance and a new beginning.

I am not Jewish, but I see the need to try to understand the Bible in its historical context.  Years ago, I attended a Messianic synagogue for a few months in an effort to reach a Jewish friend with the gospel of Jesus Christ.  (It is difficult enough to convince a Jew that Jesus is the Messiah; harder still when he doesn't believe that even the Hebrew scripture, the Old Testament, is inspired by God. Faith truly is a work of the Spirit.)  Since that time, I've learned a modicum about the Biblical feasts, and have fumbled through a couple of attempts to celebrate Passover with my family in an effort to appreciate the profound spiritual symbolism the feast conveys. As Gentile Christians, it feels like a stretch for us to borrow Jewish culture, and yet, I have felt many tugs at my heart to observe the other biblical feasts, as well.  So, when I realized that the day I had chosen to begin my fast coincided with Rosh Hashanah, I couldn't dismiss it as coincidence.  As I began to read about how it is traditionally observed, I discovered that there are ten "Days of Awe" between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) and that these days are a time of introspection and spiritual preparation in anticipation of that most holy day on the Jewish calendar.  It seemed obvious to me, then, that my tempered fast should take place over these ten days, leading to a full fast on the Day of Atonement, as the biblical mandate requires.

I want to clarify that I did not have the impression that observing these feasts would make me more holy, or win me favor with God.  I was not attempting to overthrow Grace by observing the Law; I simply felt that this was God's perfect timing for me to focus more wholly on Him, and I could not ignore the urge to dig more deeply into the significance of the holiday, so I attended a Kol Nidre ("Annulment of Vows") service at a Messianic synagogue, in which the total fast begins and broken promises are forgiven.

I had never before gone an entire day without food or water.  I had assumed I would be miserable on the (night and) Day of Atonement, but it seemed to be the perfect culmination of the previous days' efforts, and I experienced a grace I hadn't known before, drawing me closer to Jesus, who endured much greater suffering to atone for my sin.  At sundown, after 24 hours of fasting, I attended a Neilah ("Closing of the Gate") service, which includes a final appeal to God to write our names in the Book of Life, an acknowledgement that He is the one true God, the blowing of the Shofar, and a joyous cry, "Next year in Jerusalem!" At this point, tears came to my eyes, and a longing to be in Israel swept over me.  This was completely unexpected.  After all the introspection and inner wrestling, it surprised me that this, of all things, moved my heart to tears.  I continue to embrace the idea that I might actually go to Israel next year, should the Lord allow.

At last, the fast was broken with a delicious meal of fellowship, and I rejoiced to quench my thirst.  One of my young sons had attended the services with me, but he had not fasted with me and did not fully understand the significance of the occasion.  Nor did I feel equipped to properly communicate my sentiments to my family about this supernatural fresh start.  Truly, our relationship with God is deeply personal, but that should not prevent us from trying to share it with others.

As I write this in a quiet moment on our secular New Year's Eve, I rejoice in another new beginning.  In fact, each day, each moment, we are afforded the opportunity to honor God with our lives, as long as He grants us breath.  But we never know when that last breath will be, so it isn't wise to delay.   "For He says: 'In an acceptable time I have heard you, And in the day of salvation I have helped you.' Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." -2 Corinthians 6:2 (NKJV).

May this New Year be a fresh start for you, and may the Holy Spirit guide you into a closer relationship with Jesus, and a fulfilling life of service to God. Shana tova! (Have a good year!)

~Jenni