On Fasting and Coffee and Disneyland

Coffee in Belgrade, Serbia (Photo credit: Kelly Mine)

The other day I found myself thinking about the upcoming Lenten fast. Lent is happening very late this year (The Orthodox Church is not in sync with the Western churches on the dates for Holy Week and Easter for complicated reasons), and it feels like a very long build-up, giving me lots of time to think and plan, so it feels like a looming event. Pascha will be May 5!

This will be my third Lenten fast. The first was my catechumen year, and so this will be my second post-baptism.

Without going into my plans for the fast, the general rules are: no meat or eggs, no dairy, no wine, no olive oil (in some Orthodox jurisdictions) and whereas at other fasting times some fish is allowed, during Lent we do not even eat fish. Essentially it is a vegan diet unless health issues prevent it, and then the fasting rule for an individual should be discussed with his or her priest. All Orthodox Christians are expected to fast during Lent.

Dreading Lent?

The other day I had the thought, “I am dreading Lent.”

The next thought I had was a pearl clutching, “What? You’re supposed to look forward to the fast as an opportunity for spiritual growth!”

The thought that had prompted that feeling of dread was of black coffee.

I do not drink black coffee. I do not like black coffee. I like my coffee with a medium amount cream or half and half (not too dark, not too light) and a few drops of stevia to sweeten it. Every day. The same way. It is part of my morning liturgy.

Someone once told me that I was going to have to develop some flexibility and maybe not be so dependent on my morning coffee routine and I simply said, “Nope—not gonna happen.” And it hasn’t. That was about 30 years ago, and my coffee routine is still going strong, though I have switched from sugar to stevia as my sweetener. If it ain’t broke, why fix it?

So this moment is frozen in my mind—the feeling of dread that came over me, thinking about drinking black coffee, because that is what the fast should be for me. I am not going to substitute with some inferior fake cream. It’s just gross, and it also is just a work-around for something that I’m supposed to be giving up, as part of my Lenten struggle.

Following my pearl-clutching reaction to my own thought, I realize—If Christ appeared before me in the flesh and asked me to give up cream in my coffee, as soon as I was done weeping and falling at his feet and then weeping some more, I would say, “Lord, not just the cream but my coffee and mug as well!” After all, what is coffee in light of eternity? Certainly it is one of those beautiful things in life that we are given for the pleasure of its taste, for the connections with others when drinking together, and for help when we are tired and need a boost of energy, and I am thankful every day for it! But if for 40 days I need to drink it black in order to know the meaning of repentance, I will do it. With joy, hopefully.

On the Sunday of the Prodigal Son we had a guest priest deliver the homily. I will link to it here, because it was one of those sermons that will keep you meditating for weeks to come. It hit hard. In it Fr. Felipe Balingit spoke about wanting things that were sweet—that as children we only want sweet things, but we would never know the joy of sweetness if we did not also know the taste of bitterness. However, he pointed out that in adulthood, as in the Christian walk, we can begin to taste true sweetness even in things that are bitter.

Disneyland? Or a tic tac?

I heard a father once tell a story about his little daughter. At the time we lived in California, 20 minutes away from Disneyland. Our children were well acquainted with the wonders of Disneyland and it was always a big day when we spent it there. This dad offered his daughter an interesting choice—he held out a tic tac to her and said, “Would you like to have a tic tac now or would you rather go to Disneyland? If you take the tic tac now, we won’t go to Disneyland, but if you wait, I’ll give you the tic tac when we go to Disneyland.” What do you think that child chose?

How often do we grasp for the sweet goodies to obtain a fleeting, momentary satisfaction? How often do we grab the tic tac and give up Disneyland? How often is the cream in our coffee more important than the treasures of heaven? Woe is me! I don’t know about you, but I’ll take the tic tac and the cream every time, proving myself to be a child and unable to master my passions! I want what I want and I want it now. Is eating a tic tac a sin?

God created us with a need to eat for sustenance. He gave permission to eat of many things, but also an instruction of what not to eat. God instituted a fast from the very beginning. He seemed to know that fasting was hard—almost impossible—because our ancient ancestors, Adam and Eve, failed terribly and God knew that they would. But what he wants is for us to see that a heart turned toward him is one that masters the desire of the flesh, and the most basic one of all is the need for food because we believe that without it we will die. Isn’t that ironic? Adam and Eve were promised death for eating, and we who are now subject to death will not refuse ourselves food even for a time to gain Life! What they consumed affected the souls of all mankind for eternity.

Giving up cream in my coffee is going to be hard. But it’s not about the coffee, is it? Every day that I drink my coffee bitter and black, may I remember that it is for the sweetness of knowing true intimacy with Christ.

This Lent, I pray for you that your fast (whatever that entails) is blessed.