Of all the spiritual disciplines, I am quickly coming to the conclusion that this one is the most important: the discipline of breaking a fast.

The foundation of the word discipline is in speaking of common order–and one’s relationship to order. When we speak of the church’s laws and principles, we refer to the “doctrine and discipline” of the church. When we speak of spiritual disciplines, we speak of practices that bring order to our lives: order that brings our spiritual cores in tune with GOD.

The word discipline, then is about the act of ordering ourselves.

Unfortunately, it has evolved into some pretty strange places. It is euphemism for punishment and abuse. It is used as an excuse for putting one’s self through great discomfort, and even danger, as an act of obedience. And in the spring, when many prepare for Lent, we break out the word to find creative ways to deny ourselves joy or satisfaction. However, none of these speak to the root sense of order and community, seeming to be a mutation of the intention.

This brings me to why I intend to make a discipline of both keeping and breaking a fast.

Where the intention of a fast is to bring one a greater relationship with GOD, it is also about bringing greater awareness of a person with her community. I believe there is a similar intention of relationship and awareness in the act of breaking a fast: an act we often do without intentionality or care.

So often, our fasts are hasty and forceful in their beginning and even more so in their ending. We select something to give up and then when it is over, we gorge ourselves. This is not always the case, of course. But our focus is in the depriving, rather than the experiencing.

On November 1, my family participated in a diocesan initiative called A Fast from Excess, in which we ate for one week on the amount given as SNAP benefits in solidarity with our brothers and sisters who have had those benefits cut. As expected, our experience exposed us to the challenges of others–and those places that mirror our own. It exposed the struggles and the dangers of living in poverty and the importance of food justice as a mission of the church, and an important one for my family. My reflection from Day 5 of the fast expresses much of this experience.

However, as we came to the end of the fast, I did not want us to “go back to normal” after it was over. There is no purpose to a fast that doesn’t change us and our behavior in any way. Or perhaps better, that doesn’t change our behavior in a significant way.

Last Friday, as I was aware that the fast was over, I chose not to walk down to Sue’s Coffee Shop to write my sermon as I often do. I packed my simple lunch as I had all week. And I waited. I wanted the breaking of the fast to be meaningful for me. So I waited.

At 3:30, I picked my daughter up from school and took her to McDonald’s. We had ice cream, french fries, and I drank my first Diet Coke in more than a week. It felt exquisite–to existentially sense the liquid, taste it and feel it, cold and sliding down my throat. It was heavenly.

And yet, the same factors of the fast persist. I am not bound or prevented from trips to McDonald’s or by fancy dinners composed of more than cheap potatoes and frozen veggies, and yet that is how we are eating. I baked two different kinds of bread last night–a rustic Italian and 2 loaves of a buttery peasant bread, putting more work into providing nourishing and inexpensive food for my family. Aside from one other excursion in the last five days, the only liquids I’ve consumed are coffee, water, and milk.

Making a discipline of breaking a fast means that the discipline of keeping a fast had a purpose.

It feels as if I am making an exchange with GOD about the situation. I give a little of myself and gain insight–insight that is to be used to change my behavior. And so I do. The gift of awareness is intended to bring change to our lives, and the promise we make in returning into our old lives is that we do so, not to become who we were before, but a people transformed.

I’d like to hear about your fasts: your experience in keeping and breaking them. Share your thoughts on eating and food; about learning things about your food and how it has come to your table. Most of all, share how you’ve been changed by your experience.

This Advent, I’ll be launching a new project dealing with the discipline of breaking. It is something I’ve put on the backburner for some time, and will go into more details in the coming weeks. I hope you join me in seeing the importance and joy that comes from breaking a fast with intention.