Is not this the fast that I have chosen: Thoughts on Isaiah 58

 Isaiah 58 is a favorite chapter for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because we as a church are encouraged to fast once a month. Today I taught about the law of the fast in my youth Sunday School class. As I was preparing for the lesson I caught on the phrase, "Is not this the fast I have chosen?" (58:6) and it made me wonder what fast days the Lord had established for his people. A quick search and I found that in the Torah, there is only one day that was designated as a fast day, Yom Kippur. In Leviticus 23: 26 "The tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. Hold a sacred assembly and deny yourselves,[d] and present a food offering to the Lord." It doesn't even say explicitly that people should fast, but it is implied that people should fast and take the food they would have eaten as a "food offering".  By the end of the Old Testament era, there were several more fast days that were observed, which mostly commemorated tragedies in Israelite history, like the destruction of the temple, and the breaching of the walls of Jerusalem.  

Understanding this, the Lord's condemnation of how the Jews were fasting makes more sense. 

3 ¶ Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou seest not? wherefore have we afflicted our soul, and thou takest no knowledge? Behold, in the day of your fast ye find pleasure, and exact all your labours.

4 Behold, ye fast for strife and debate, and to smite with the fist of wickedness: ye shall not fast as ye do this day, to make your voice to be heard on high.

5 Is it such a fast that I have chosen? a day for a man to afflict his soul? is it to bow down his head as a bulrush, and to spread sackcloth and ashes under him? wilt thou call this a fast, and an acceptable day to the Lord? 

It seems like these fast days where people were lamenting their captivity had become politicized and had turned into a time of "strife and debate," and a time to mourn in "sackcloth and ashes." This purpose of fasting is far from the purpose God proscribed for Yom Kippur.  

Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, was just a little before Rosh Hashanah, the first day of the new liturgical year.  It was a time of reflection, resentence and forgiveness. It was the day of the scapegoat ceremony, when the sins of the nation were ritually transferred to a goat, that was then driven into the wilderness, taking the people's sins with it.  It was a time for fresh starts, not a time of mourning.  

As Isaiah 58 continues, it emphasizes that people are supposed to bless the poor and needy through fasting (v. 7) and seek communion with the Lord (v. 9).   When we do, the Lord promises that he will "have our back" so to speak, and empower us with his glory (v. 8).  

Later, Jesus condemned those who fasted "to appear unto men to be fasting."  He called them hypocrites and commended the practice in fasting in secret. ( Matt 6:16-18) I think this has application to the modern time.  What is our first thought when we remember that it is fast day. Is it, "Oh no. I have to starve myself?"  Instead, it should be "who can I bless with my fast today?"  That blessing can come through prayers for another's behalf, and from paying a generous fast offering.  It is not wrong to fast for inspiration for ourselves.  Didn't God promise that when we called he would answer "Her I am?"  The yokes that we break through fasting could be other's needs, or it could be our own sinful nature. 

  

Running Into the Road (Isaiah's second half)

 It has been interesting to transition from the "gloom and doom" chapters of Isaiah, (up to about chapter 39) to the "hope for the future" chapters of this week (40-47)

Last week in Sunday School I told the students that the first half of Isaiah is like a practice I did when my children were very small.  When I had a child that had just learned to walk, I, of course, tried to teach them not to run into the road.  The first time they disobeyed and ran toward the street, I scooped them up and gave them a firm swat on the bottom. When this happened they each looked at me in a moment of surprise, and then burst into tears. I wasn't the kind of mother that spanked my children usually, but teaching them not to run into the street was so important for their safety, I thought it merited a heavier hand. 

In the first half of Isaiah, Israel and Judah were both about to run into the street, (metaphorically).  They were facing, not only defeat, but destruction and captivity if they continued to disobey God. God, because he loved them, sent Isaiah and other prophets to give them warnings in the most blunt and dire terms to try to spare them that consequence. That is why these chapters are so dark and angry sounding. 

Imagine, if one of my children had, even after my warnings, run into the st

reet and been hit by a car.  Imagine me calling the ambulance and riding with my child to the hospital. Do you think that I, as a loving mother, would look at my child, lying in a hospital bed, and berate them for being disobedient?  Of course not. I would show them as much love and support as I could, and try to give them hope for a bright future. I think that is what is happening in the second half of Isaiah (or whoever wrote these chapters, there is some scholarly dispute). God sees the downfall and captivity of Judah.  They have suffered the consequences of their poor decisions, but God wants to tell them that there is hope and that he still loves them. 

If you look at isolated verses of the Old Testament, the LORD can seem like a cruel and vengeful god. But if you look at the story line, as a whole, you see that he never gives up on Israel, even when they are disobedient, and always offers covenant care if they are willing to return to him.

(I didn't have much time to write this between Conference sessions last week, but I hope it is thought provoking.)