Day 1: Ash Wednesday - The Journey Begins

"And having been warned in a dream…they left…by another road." -Matthew 2:12

A new journey has begun.

The wise ones, at the beginning of Jesus’ life, turned their lives upside down. They stepped out of their ordinary and risked the journey. Then, when it was time to go back, they turned and went another way. They risked going a new way. They took steps to be sure they lived their lives differently. They had been changed by their experience in Spirit’s presence.

The journey through Lent on my way to Jerusalem invites me to take new turns, to go a different way, and to live my life differently. The labyrinth turns back and forth, this way and that.

Sometimes I forget which way I’m going, but I stay on the path for I will not go back. The past is behind me. Spirit’s touch has changed me. I turn my face forward and walk. I step into the future. I take my first step toward Jerusalem.

Discuss: How often do I open my heart that the Spirit may be my companion on this journey no matter where I end up? How willing am I to turn and go a deeper way into faith?

Prayer

Spirit,

Holy, present, waiting, ready—

Be with me on this Lenten journey.

Be there when I race,

and when I need to slow down;

when I stall;

and when I am afraid to go further, deeper.

May this Ash Wednesday be the turning point I need in my spiritual life,

for I know the turning and the journeying are as important

as the destination.

May it be so. Amen.

Hymn: “Take Time to Be Holy” (Voices United 672)

JSS

Discuss: How often do I open my heart that the Spirit may be my companion on this journey no matter where I end up? How willing am I to turn and go a deeper way into faith?

The universal, endless, exciting journey, to me, is that of engagement.

By engagement, I mean being open to the god-ness that permeates and is inseparable from the whole of life. It’s everywhere, and it’s abundantly present. Engagement with it demands my constant, deliberate attention: a life-practice that’s never been easy to learn or sustain. In the endless arrays and floods of natural and socially-generated stimulation, it’s easy for everything, even god-abundance, to be lost in the blur, borne away in the noise.

Engagement takes deliberate effort: it’s like trying to count the wheels on a fast-passing train; it’s like cherishing a single note in a Beethoven symphony. Then it calls for us to be doing both at the same time. For me, it’s particularly like listening to the river song (something I do almost every day: the Salmon River’s become my personal coach).

Engagement next insists that I knead all of this into cohesion … into my being. Kneading into one-ness is as essential to a well-lived life as it is to a satisfactory loaf of bread.

The “way” is one: it’s indivisible. We can try, but none of us can go far in several directions at once. Unity of being may not call for a lot of impulse at the start: one star in the ocean of stars will do it. But, step by step, the way gets harder.

Still, it is the journey that draws me into my realisation of existence — into fuller, more continuous god awareness — and my greatest hope of all is that, by the time I reach the “truth”, I’ll have the eyes, ears, heart and presence of mind to embrace that moment.

How often do I open my heart to the Spirit?

My heart, alone, isn't nearly enough. And it’s not the repeated action "often" implies: it's more a matter of modulation in the moment. It's there all the time. I try to keep wide open… and I’m aware of it when I fail.  That’s when I do a bit of deliberate re-focussing: counting train wheels or listening to Beethoven?
 

Respectfully submit that this is both an oversell and a departure from the narrative.

This I can embrace.  In fact, I believe the very nature of liturgical seasonal observance is not to enter into the rote memory of the tradition but rather to take time to smell the flowers and appreciate the wonder in what is so often taken for granted.

I crave the deeps. 

The pressure snugs, the light so scattered as to be absent means that I cannot function by appearance and there is a quiet solitude which drowns out the noise of all the movement which is also a surface phenomenon.

As I travel deeper I am reminded at how my knowledge of God and my knowledge of self are so intimately connected (not that God and self should ever be confused for one another).  The more I learn about God the more I can see God as work within me.  The more I learn about myself the more I can see where God has been at work within me.

Only when I go deeper in those ways do I develop the skills needed to see where God has been at work in others.

Grace and peace to you.

John

Diving Deeply,

Could you share the name of the author of each reflection?

The season says… 

Bare-headed birch

in ashen expectation

count the drips

as winter falls

like stale, cold tea

from the roof;

the brown-soil stain

taints re-frozen snow

and the slow days lengthen.

It’s cold and damp

and dismal yet…

it’s from such air that

hope in sunlight stirs

and life itself

picks up its sweet,

hot, quickening pulse.

                                                        — Mike P, 13 Feb 2003

I am seeking that quiet centre.  It eludes me.  There are new directions coming and there are old chains dragging. Where is my faith?

the journey in Lent, is in the heart of cold.  The way of the future is so unsure.  Easter doesn't even beckon.  Maybe this journey is into darkness.  I hope for light.

Well, I do try to open my heart to the Spirit's companionship daily - but it seems like this path of spiritual transformation is much slower than I would like.  I'm impatient for changes and wish God would just "hurry up" about things.

"May this Ash Wednesday be the turning point I need in my spiritual life...."

I do find myself praying for help to live my life differently - not so much that Ash Wednesday be a "turning point" - but just to be able to move forward in the direction of healing and get a sense of real progress.

To be more specific - it's not just spiritual transformation that I'm seeking - but practical changes for handling my current life challenges more creatively and courageously.  I'm trying to heal from a very long struggle with chronic fatigue syndrome, and my dad is going through a painful journey with stage 3 melanoma.  I've been asking Spirit for help to love more deeply - I often find myself impatient with my father - even though I fear he may lose his battle with cancer, and I wish I could just be more supportive and fully present.  But my own health issues make it hard to be as generous and warm as I would wish.  And parts of me are angry with God - why in the heck hasn't "Wild Christ" answered my prayers sooner - why have I been stuck with this @#$%&*()*&^%!!! chronic illness for so long?

So the other part of the transformation I seek is to deepen my relationship with Jesus in spite of the fact that my life circumstances are pretty much going in the opposite direction of how I want them to be.  I ask for grace to see God's hand at work in all of this mess, and open to love more deeply, rather than closing down and becoming bitter.

I appreciate the words of Joyce Rupp - from her book - "Out of the Ordinary"....

Thanks Paradox3. We've posted a page with information about the contributors to Diving Deeply here: 

http://www.wondercafe.ca/divingdeeply_writers

I feel that everyday is a new journey for me, I seem to have to look at the direction I am going, I have to push myself to connect with the Spirit. I look at my past, where I have been, what has changed, I see a huge difference and can only be thankful for a Creator who gave me new life. I too "crave" to be deep into God's spirit, to feel that what I am, who I am is a new me. I write with not my hands or mind but am led by a Spirit who gives me more than I am worth, who writes through me, I believe. I know that I do not live on my own, that I am filled with life that is more than just me. I could not do the things or write the things I do write without a stronger, more loving, more knowing being, a Creator in me.

I feel that rather than being in darkness, I live in a light not my own, but for me. I can understand that the winter and the winter of our lives can be a dark time. I only know that for myself I see the light, I feel the light, I work towards becoming one with the light.

If I folded a piece of paper with instructions that you agreed to do, would you sign it without reading it?

I doubt that many would, but if I knew the person well enough that was asking me to sign it, I would probably do so just because I trusted that the person I know and love would not be asking me to do something that I was incapable of.

I think of the Holy Spirit this way. If I am open and familiar with the relationship, I will trust in the direction that I am being taken.

Of course, the holy spirit has never handed me a paper but I was given the Bible and Jesus, and it's usually the nudging of the familiar that helps me to recognize an unseen power that exists within me to confirm what I know to prepare me for a journey into the unknown.

Hi Paradox 3,

For future reference the following initials refer to the specific author of each devotion.

BF Bryan Fox

CI Chris Ingersoll

LK Linda Kuschnik

DL Denis Lehotay

HL Henri Lock

WJM Wendy Jean MacLean

CP Colin Peterson

JS Joan Scaglione

JSS Joan Silcox-Smith

TS Tom Sherwood

DW Darrow Woods

Grace and peace to you.

John

The chapel at the General Council Office on Ash Wednesday.

Nice photo.....

(ha, ha - I found myself looking for the "like" button.....) 

How often . . . well, there are times and moments when I am more easily able to open my heart that the Spirit is my companion on this journey . . . no matter what.  And that I don't need to fear the "what ifs".  But there are also times and moments when I find myself slipping into the place where I feel alone - when I give into worry, fear, and doubt.  This question reminds me of the quote "Lord help me to remember that nothing is going to happen today that you and I can't handle."  I really do believe God/Spirit is always with me, but there are times when I give into the fear, doubt, and worry, and I don't act as I believe.

I am willing to turn and go . . . but I need the Spirit's help to guide and show me where and when to turn, and where and when to go.

May this Lenten season increase my knowledge and understanding of God, and may I grow in my enjoyment, confidence, and relationship as I journey with my Companion.

The book talks, in the pre-amble, about the space between yes and no being holy ground and the author says that this space is a metaphorical river into which we must dive because “love itself is there ... to welcome us to God’s healing, strength, freedom and joy.” 

“Yes” and “no” are points of certainty.  What is between those points is uncertainty.  God’s healing, strength, freedom and joy are to be found not where there is certainty but rather where there is uncertainty (perhaps even conflict). Authentic life is to be discovered in the territory of uncertainty.  To find it we must venture there.  Is that really so hard, for uncertainty is all around us?  We literally swim in it. 

Do spirits always soar?  Don’t they sometimes swim? ... or lift heavy weights? ... or multitask? ... vibrate ecstatically at the same frequency as straining muscles? ... or push through brush and tall grass at the rivers edge?  Do we really only meet God in peace and quiet ... sitting Buddha-like at the centre of a labyrinth? What about in struggle? (What is more uncertain than real struggle?) What about at the keyboard wrestling to make an idea clear enough in your own head to communicate?   I would suggest that “opening your heart to God” means immersing yourself in life ... in the uncertainty of it ... and embracing (a long step beyond mere acceptance) the sheer dizzying complexity of it.  This is where opportunity lies and where transformation is possible.  

My take, for what it's worth:

Certainty is the start of putting god into the toy box: mystery is mysterious. Mystery does not oblige us by doing what WE think is best.

The more declarations we makee about what god will or won't do, the more we inhibit and limit the range of responses we are able to make to whatever does in fact happen — responses that actually bring the love of god into our immediate experience… experience that has the power to bear us up and give us strength. Pre-empting god with certainty is not a healthy approach: trust is what's required of us. Trust.

I think that the gap between yes and no is the same gap as in a meditation practice. It is the moment of pure potentiality, before the next moment is birthed.

I think it's great to be open to a healing miracle, while still staying open to other definitions of healing, perhaps, that are more spiritual than physical.

I have a constant struggle to keep myself open to the Spirit. The voices in my head are so very loud. And so very right...

Thanks, MikePaterson & BetteTheRed.  I find myself agreeing with your perspectives.  

(But I can understand why my cousin would want to "claim her miracle" in Jesus' name, too - since the uncertainty of life can be so very painful at times).

I like this idea about the gap between yes & no being the same as the gap in meditation practice.  I've been pondering the possibility of exploring Pema Chodren's course - "The Freedom to Love".  The invitation offered says:

".... start wherever you are—with any challenges, frustrations, or fears you may be facing—and use them as the launching pad to awaken the natural and boundless capacity of your heart....."

(and the self-guided video course is on sale now at "Sounds True" - in case anyone else here is interested in the Buddhist perspective - see http://www.soundstrue.com/shop/promotion/3829.pd  )

(Is it okay to include this link?  I'm not an affliate or anything - just a woman with a curious mind.  Forgive me if I'm being tacky or something......)

Blessings to all for your faith (and doubt) and willingness to share.....

when I allow the Spirit to be my companion it feels real, makes me believe in myself, like when I am listening to someone sing a beautiful hymn or listen to an inspiring message, it gives me hope for human kind and gives me hope and peace for myself.... then reality sets in, and I am closed down trying to get through the day,  I pray that I could go deeper into faith, I don't know how too........

I'm lurking and listening and did the full reading today.

I like the image of the labyrinth. I like walking them, twisting and turning, feeling that I am getting near my goal, but then turning away again. It reflects life to me. I aim for goals and sometimes feel like I'm moving the wrong way, when in fact, the path iIS taking me closer, it's just not as I imagined it would be.

When did?

I remember several moments clearly when I felt the presence of God immanently present.  I cannot speak to any discernible pattern for why.

In those moments the words that seem most apt are dwarfed, humbled, small, treasured, secure and depending upon the circumstance terrified and/or relieved.

What makes God seem distant or absent?

Not really a feeling that I have trouble with.  God is always present though not, thankfully, immanent.  God backs off a smidge and I am not so dwarfed.  There is a sense of nearness, never a sense of absence.

Grace and peace to you.

John

I have felt close to God.  But as my years progress and the work done over the decades seems so futile, so ineffectual, the precious in my sight, seems to have slipped into an abyss.  Psalm 89:46, how long O Lord will you hide your face. 

I used to feel God was more close only during moments of suffering. Lord knows how much I cried out to him during those times. I wonder if that's shallow or if it's something that God has built into the human experience? I confess there have been times in my life when all has been well and God has been relegated to the backburner. Over time I have learned that God is worth more than that. As I've matured in my faith I now take time to give thanks when all is well. I can look around and see the beauty that I've been given. I am blessed with family, friends and love and I now make it a point to really appreciate the smallest of things. So the only thing that would make God feel distant to me now would be if I choose to not appreciate how he enriches my life in all of lifes moments....through it all....not just the moments of desperation, but the joys also.

You are precious in my sight… "precious" is not quite the word I'd use. I feel more ensnared in the liberty god-ness is: ensnared in liberty… there's a paradox. 

God’s essences seem neither closer nor further from me at any time. God's the context: there's nowhere god-ness is not. (I say that emotionally, intuitively and intellectually… it's not "theology", it's biology, it's primal, it's geological and cosmic.)  It’s me that opens or closes… like a tap, but the tap’s got a chronic leak. I close shut: I hear “drip”… “drip”… “drip”… god can be irritating at times. There’s no escaping it.

I guess that's my "word list": god-ness, to me anyway, somehow contradicts every word in the dictionary.

I did have one of those god-shock experiences: standing naked on a remote boulder beach at dusk in the midst of a wild thunderstorm. I felt my being pulled relentlessly apart and struggled to retain my “self”. When my being re-formed, I could not recognize its core; the “me” at the hub of my “self” was different   — my teeth were chattering uncontrollably.  I slept under the sky and woke feeling transformed in a way I’m still exploring (this is described in my “Testimony” on my WC profile page). I was a 17 year-old atheist at the time. I didn't use/never used/don't use drugs. I was wild for the sea.

Strangely, I haven’t had a nightmare or felt a genuine jolt of fear since then. Just that ever-leaky tap… it comes as sounds, as colours, as textures; it comes as whole moments, as flashes and as a sense of timelessness. It's in the eyes of my dog and the smile of my wife who's also my mentor, friend and healer. It 's the oceanic vitality that permeates every corner of existence …persistent, unpredictable and inexplicable, sometimes quiet, scarcely discernible; sometimes as startling as a hammer on iron.

If I ever feel god’s not living up to my expectations, I am quickly returned to that moment of rending nearly 50 years ago, and to gratitude.Once the gratitude kicks in, I find it’s difficult to remember what my expectations were.

--------

HERE 's the drawing I did, following the book (I found it a helpful little exercise):

The hexagon isn't significant as such… it stands for my stupid (and similarly irrelevant) desire to assert form in my life (I like to think I’ve rounded off the corners a bit)…  I see the impulse to establish that sort of order as a serious obstacle to the free flow of holy love and fullness of being. It’s something I’m trying to keep out of the way. My given self (almost 50 years old but still pretty embryonic) is the little orb in the centre, trying always to draw in the infinite mystery that lies — forever and further than knowing — beyond the stupid hexagon which is the bulwark of my ignorance.

If god seems a bit distant or scary, I’d suggest that the insights of indigenous cultures can help us get a grip. Indigenous cultures generally discover the “sacred” in a lived realpolitik of divine presence, rather than trying to extract approximations from the two dimensional markings on paper that scripture is. So, though they may be no more or less adept in understanding it all, they do have fewer places to hide.   (I grew up with a lot of exposure to Maori spirituality in New Zealand and I’m taking every opportunity I can to learn about Anishinaabeg spirituality in Ontario… it’s okay: there’s only ONE god… just a lot of ways of experiencing her, and we can use all the help we can get.)

“Precious”? I guess it's all precious… and a whole lot more.

From the United Church Facebook page.

Dragon: do you experience "She" god?

I find She's often loaded with a lot less baggage, speaks more openly and laughs more readily. 

"He" god is often harder to sit with because of all the advertising that's been pasted over "His" love. It can make Him harder to give one's trust to… fully.

For Dragon: (and all of us)

"Dear God,

I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!

Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold onto?

Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?

Please help me to gradually open my hands

and to discover that I am not what I own,

but what you want to give me."--------------Henry Nouwen

Ha, ha - Mike - right away your comment made me laugh and struck me as so true.  I am just beginning to experience this She / Goddess side of the divine.  I'll see what happens if I explore this more - I think it will help me to trust & open to life (my Baptist church background growing up had alot of this "he" god you are talking about).

waterfall - I'm trying to understand Henry's words there - but I'm not quite clicking with it (well, I do get the part about the clenched fists!)  Right now what comes to mind is how hard I've been trying to force solutions for healing CFS, and today I ponder what might happen if I let go of control abit more and just see what emerges.  I've been so intense, and in some ways just hating my life so much - it's hard not to let my desperation for change drive me.

 I started a large journal with the words "Deep River Grace" written on the first page.  So far that's all I've written - but it feels like a wonderful invitation to me......

For the labyrinth users… here's an old Christian labyrinth from the Church of St. Leonardo a Colli a Volturno, Isernia:

Thanks for sharing these pictures.

This Lenten season is developing into a "walking the labrynth" theme for me. It's just where I am in my spiritual journey at this point, which is kind of challenging, since I've never had the patience to fully complete a labrynth walk in real life. :)

Yeah, I really like labyrinths.  Thanks for sharing these images.

“How many times have you and I cried out to God to save us from something?” Well I don’t know about you but I know about me ... never.  I know, for sure, that I am walking through the valley of death and I am sure there is a divine kind of energy and power upon which I can draw.  But it is not a fixing football games ... rigging the result kind of energy. It is not a last minute reprieve kind of energy. It is no magic elixir but rather like an assurance that I will be able to deal with what will be coming.  That all these years I’ve been working on contributing to build up the stores of good energy ... charging the battery ... and I see others doing it ... and I have felt it and it has moved me sometimes to tears ... the commitment, effort and caring of ordinary people ... people who do not know me ... people who are technically speaking just getting up and going to work like everyone else (like me) but who are doing the work of angels ... who have dedicated themselves to helping others ... many others including me ... on an everyday basis.  I can feel the goodwill. This is when I feel closest to God. It is the feel of many hands helping me and others ... buoying me up.  Sometimes I help buoy others up.

I feel farthest from God when I see events like the death of Ashley Smith ... when I see people standing back ... standing back withholding their care ... when I hear people say that they have no choice ... that they are just doing their job ... that they are sorry but it is policy. When I see people washing their hands of their duty to take care of the others and neglecting to feel what others feel, that is when I feel most removed. 

I’ve been in my share of quiet scenic and lonely places ... majestic places... powerful places.  I like the feeling one gets driving down a country road in a snowstorm or a rainstorm... or standing in a river.  I like the feeling one gets that the world is right up close touching you and surrounding you ... but there is nothing like the feeling of many minds and hands reaching to support me.  I try to do that for others so I know it when I see it and it is everywhere.  I know how I am empowered ... how a loving energy is directed every day into good constructive channels ... so it can ripple outward  to comfort and empower me and others.  It is like a steady breeze that blows out over the sea of humanity on which we all sail and fills our sails and helps us go in the direction of our dreams.  

You're really good at expressing yourself qwerty - are you an author?

P.S.  I hope I'm not prying, but when you say you are walking through the valley of death - do you mean you're facing a life threatening illness?

I love what you say about being immersed in nature, and your sense of loving energy like a steady breeze.  Thank you for your beautiful, honest words.

Discuss: What could you fast from this Lent to deepen your awareness of the Spirit?

Fasting… oh dear, winter is, for me, an imposed fast.

I’m privileged to have spent most of my life in summer or near-summer, in a succession of fruiting seasons.

In the Canadian winter I feel a physical loss in the draining away of colour and life. I am uncomfortable in cold, and claustrophobic in snow. Thanks to a balance issue, I get vertigo in snow, giddiness so that I sometimes fall.. My creativity is sapped. I REALLY do not like winters in Canada. But I can’t afford to swan off to tropical resorts (or should that be “goose off”?) and, if I think about it, the prospect doesn’t really appeal anyway.

I grew up with, in, on, beside and under the ocean, the Pacific Ocean… swimming sailing surfing diving… and later, when I had a busy working life, it was still there and I had its presence to buoy me through every setback or time of fatigue. It rose and rolled, surged and crashed at the core of my sense of freedom. It was a vital medium of experience of god-ness for me; it was a teacher to me, it fed me, it tested me.

So the Canadian winter denies me channels I’ve long counted on as conduits of spiritual energy.

I’ve had to find other resources.

That is the gift of fasting: I have come to a realization, not only that we’re supplied with many foods for the spirit, but with infinite foods for the spirit. And that drawing out of habit from the same well, or same few wells, impedes our growth and narrows our understanding… it can be the start of trying to put “god” in a box, of defining “god”, of re-forming “god” on our terms and according to our conceptions. It can be experienced — as it was for me — as dulling of compulsive gratitude and incite a misleading feeling that we’re getting a handle on the “Mystery”.

A “mystery” with handles is no longer a mystery; it’s just another feel-good bucket. To create it, we have to sacrifice our capacity for wonder and amazement. The temptation is to turn from wonder to doctrine and start telling god how things ought to be, what a crap job she’s doing and what WE want… now. God-in-a-box is a death charm.

We were created, not to live in peace but to be at peace in life, no matter how restless, contentious or difficult. God is ALWAYS with us but also infinitely beyond us. God’s the clay of our being, not the pot. We can make any number of pots: they’ll all end up broken. But there’s still plenty of clay.

Loss of god-connection?  All that’s happened is that the handles we put on our “god-pot” just fell off.

Fasting for Lent? Sorry… at this time of the year, I’m not in the mood.

Besides, when I was at my river yesterday afternoon, the angels were dancing: a free, strong, playful, swishing tarantella of joy; their song was vigorous, intricate and laughter-like… and compelling:

Beautiful… isn't she?

Hi Folks,

I just thought I would add this reminder. There's still plenty of time to get the book and follow along during Lent:

Last chance to get 50% off the United Church Lenten devotional e-book Diving Deeply! Sale ends today! Details: http://ow.ly/hImw2

Not for a few years, but in the past, I have done fasts from food.   I did not do them very well.  At the time I was a mom with kids at home and a hubby at work.  I had to cook . . . and I wasn't good at cooking for others and not eating myself.  It was easy for me to fast from Sunday supper to Monday lunch, but after that I didn't do so well.  I became grumpy, headachy, and weak . . . and so spirituality went right out the door.  I would like to be able to experience fasting in a retreat type setting - then it may be a spiritual experience for me.

Spiritually, I could fast from negativity and allowing myself to become frustrated throughout Lent - that I think would deepen my awareness of the Spirit.

In order for the fast to be effective it would have to shift attention from the material to the spiritual.  It should probably be my biggest material attraction.  Something I would miss, in order for me to actually undergo that tension between the spiritual and the material.

I'm not cognizant of any one thing that would be.

It may be a bunch of little things, habits and patterns that have their root more in the material than they do the spiritual.

This is where I struggle.  I reject the dualism of spiritual good and material bad.  All of creation has been pronounced good (all would be both the spiritual and the material) and all of creation has, through the providence of God been given to me to steward.

So what gets between myself and God?  What distracts me from my Creator?

Questions I have.  Answers I don't.

Grace and peace to you.

John

I haven't fasted in years. It's physically hard on me. My body knows when a meal is due-if I delay to long I get a migraine.

Last fast was for a health procedure.

So what could be the equivalent? Giving up material wants to focus on the spiritual.

3 years ago I followed a "Buy nothing new for lent" policy.

What amazed me was not only the positive effective on the pocketbook but also the amouont of time it freed up. I realized shopping was sometimes recreational. It took up more time than I has been aware of.

Since then I've been more concious of how I spend both my money and my time.

I think that giving things up and all these things are kind of gimmicks.We seem to rely on a lot of gimmicks  in the church that really have no affect physically or spiritually.

crazyheart I have to take you up on your thoughts about gimmicks that you say are used in the church.  When you think that the Bible proposes tricks or devices to attract attention,  I wonder what you think of the teachings of Jesus. I think that giving up things that disctact from the relationship we can build with our Creator can only give good results. We need to rely only on the love that comes from God. If we think of all the things/materials in our live that take over more of our time with the Creator we may want to come closer rather than moving away. Fasting shows our determination to become more aware and serious of that relationship and we may see new perspectives in it as well.

Well to answer PD's question about life threatening illness, I had my prostate removed two Decembers ago because I had prostate cancer.  It was just about out of the prostate which means it was about as serious as it could be without being an out and out death sentence.  I spent the summer getting radiation treatment because there were signs that somewhere cnacer cells persisted.  So far everything is okay (and I feel fine) but that just gives me the right to have a checkup every 3 months.  Nobody is ever going to tell me I'm cured.

In order to have my operation I lost 30 lbs in about 3 months.  That was pretty much like a fast.  I actually did a fast of three days a few months ago (just to see if I could) taking only water.  It is about day 3 that you start to feel more or less normal (as opposed to weak and stretched).  Fasts actually do cleanse and normalize the body.  I can't say that either time I felt especially spiritual.  I don't buy into the mind body dualism.  Me and my thoughts are inseparable. We function as a unified whole.  Thoughts have physical effects and physical effect influence thoughts.  Even to state it that way is to imply duality which coes not exist.  Certainly, I don't think my spirit becomes more substantial as my body becomes less substantial any more than I believe that if I put on weight I become less spiritual.  Perhaps it would be better to consider the plight of the depressive as an example.  Dopamine is low in the body and as a result feelings of happiness disappear ... become impossible to experience ... certain kinds of thinking are ruled out.  

Consider too, the subject of cancer. One hears exhortations to fight cancer.  Unfortunately my mind and body are one and cancer is part of me at the cellular level.  If I have cancer then I am part of cancer and cancer is part of me.  One cannot fight oneself.  All that you can do is live life and to try to make your life a benefit to those around you while doctors and other treatment specialists try to attack the cancer cells.  One cannot think cancer away.  If such a thing were possible nobody would die of it.  If I were to die of cancer I don't think you would be able to convince anyone that knows me that my death resulted because I couldn't bring enough mental horsepower to bear on the problem.

There is a pretty good article in Harper's magazine (I hasten to point out that is not the same as Harper's Bazaar) in March 2012 called Starving Your Way to Vigor.  I have to figure out how to access it online before I can post a link.

I might do another longer fast during Lent  because it does, in fact, offer health benefits (very notably for persons with cancer) and because the spiritual environment seems to favour it.  I'm not expecting any big revelations if I do it although I will say that my last fast (which is really the only serious fast I ever did) brought home very forcefully how little one actually needs to eat, how resilient we actually are, and how much energy we devote to the business of eating (things that we don't really need to eat). 

Fasting, in relation to food, is generally healthy. By and large, we eat far too much in North America. I have involved myself with Ramadan (in Glagow) and the wonderful getting togethers after sunset when food and drink can again be taken: everything tastes so much better! Nobody got ill! Ramadan seems to be community-building.

And I saw the start of Lent on the Greek Island of Naxos where there were few options but to fast. The day after the pretty Dionysian Apokries revels, Lent kicked in with the withrdrawal of meat from the stores and restaurants. It was nowhere to be found. There, the fast gradually stepped up until everyone was basically on bread and water: then Easter was a real FEAST! I saw reassuring numbers of elderly people (few of them overweight), suggesting they had not succumbed to their many years of Lenten fasting.