I say this often, and I believe it deeply. Knowing that we are held by the Divine is a great comfort, but it does not magically erase the anxiety of meeting life every day. We still face the crushing weight of financial struggles, the fracture of relationship issues, the shadow of political repression, and the fear of crimes committed against us. In the middle of these storms, it can be hard to feel “safe” in those hands.
This is why I return again and again to the ancient invitation of Jesus: “Fast and pray” (Matthew 17:21).
For a long time, I looked at fasting as a form of punishment or a test of willpower. But I have come to see it differently. Fasting is a spiritual exercise in recognizing the boundaries of our own bodies. When we feel hunger, when we intentionally limit what we consume, we become acutely aware of our physical edges. We learn where we end and where the rest of the world begins.
This recognition is vital. If we do not understand the boundaries of our own bodies, we will never understand the boundaries of others. We will find ourselves constantly exerting our ideologies, our needs, and our space into the lives of those around us. Fasting teaches us the discipline of “not consuming” everything in sight—whether that is food, attention, or power. It creates a holy space for others to exist.
As Swami Vivekananda, the great Indian sage, once observed:
“The more we come out and do good to others, the more our hearts will be purified, and God will be in them. But this requires the discipline of the senses, for a mind that is always seeking outward cannot find the stillness within.”
Fasting is that discipline. It is the practice of quieting the outer body so that we can finally hear the song of the inner body. While it reaps physical benefits and mental clarity, its greatest gift is a heightened social awareness. It removes the “thick skin” of our ego and makes us sensitive to the hunger of our neighbor.
Jesus reminded us that “the body is more than clothing” and that we are to treat our existence as a sacred temple. When we discipline the outer body, we are not rejecting it; we are celebrating it as a vessel for the powerful presence of God. This inner body—the spirit that walks in the breath God gave us—needs to be embraced and enjoyed. It is the part of us that is boundless.
Prayer is the recognition of those boundaries so that we can be boundless in love and compassion. If I know my own limits, I am less likely to violate yours. If I am at peace with my own physical hunger, I am more equipped to feed your spiritual hunger.
Sometime back, someone told me that our soul needs room to breathe. Fasting clears the clutter from the inner room, the sacred space of God. It helps us move from a life of fear—where we are constantly grabbing for more—to a life of joyful living, where we know that what we have is enough because God is enough.
Knowing who we are is the best pathway to knowing who others are. When I sit in the silence of my fast, I realize that I do not need to dominate the world to be safe in it. I am safe because I have stopped fighting the boundaries and started enjoying the Boundless One who lives within them.
