The Sunday of Orthodoxy
Oops!
“Let the mouth also fast from disgraceful speeches and railings. For what does it profit if we abstain from fish and fowl and yet bite and devour our brothers and sisters? The evil speaker eats the flesh of his brother and bites the body of his neighbor.”
This quote attributed to St. John Chrysostom echoes the scriptural reading we heard last week:
“One believes he may eat anything, while the weak man eats only vegetables. Let not him who eats despise him who abstains, and let not him who abstains pass judgment on him who eats; for God has welcomed him.” (Romans 14:2-3)
The point that both St. Paul and St. John are getting at is that fasting has a spiritual component. It’s not just about what we can and can’t eat.
For most of us, if we stop to think about the spiritual side of fasting, we tend to focus on the benefits we can obtain for ourselves. And indeed, I’ve taught this quite a bit. Fasting teaches us self-discipline. What we learn in controlling our hunger—that is, the passion of gluttony—we can employ in conquering our other passions, whether it be anger, lust, pride, greed, sadness, sloth, fear, or vainglory.
But if we reexamine these quotes, we’ll see that they assume fasting not only gives us spiritual discipline, but it should also cause us to consider how we treat others and, I would add, the world as a whole.
In fact, it is essential to remember that our relationships and the way we interact with the world are just as spiritual as remembering to say our prayers or attending divine services every week.
Ugh!
At this point, you may be thinking: Okay, Father, I see how not judging what others eat can be a spiritual discipline, and I can see how it can improve human relationships, but how does fasting change the way we relate to the world?
Before a few months ago, I don’t know that I could’ve answered that question in a compelling way. Some of you may know that I recently embraced a whole-foods, plant-based diet. In simple terms, I became a vegan to see if it would have an impact on my voice disorder. I essentially adopted a fast as a year-round discipline.
As I researched my new diet, I learned how our American diet not only affects our health—you probably won’t be surprised to hear that processed and fast food aren’t good for us—but also has serious consequences for the environment and for the well-being of animals.
Globally, agriculture occupies about half of the world’s habitable land, with 77% of this land dedicated to livestock farming, including grazing and feed production. This extensive land use has led to deforestation, habitat destruction, and loss of biodiversity. If other nations were to adopt our American diet, it would be an ecological disaster—it’s simply not sustainable.
Beyond environmental concerns, the meat industry raises significant ethical questions. Intensive livestock farming often involves inhumane conditions: animals confined in small spaces, deprived of natural behaviors, and subjected to stressful living environments. These practices should concern us not only as citizens but as Christians, called to be stewards of God’s creation.
And then, there is the issue of overfishing. Nearly 90% of the world’s marine fish stocks are fully exploited, overexploited, or depleted. Industrial fishing practices harm entire ocean ecosystems, destroying coral reefs, capturing unintended species, and destabilizing the balance of marine life. This, too, is a form of carelessness toward the world God entrusted to us.
Aha!
You may recall that after God created humanity, we were tasked with caring for the earth and all the creatures in it (Genesis 1:28-31; 2:15), which included the naming of every animal (Genesis 2:19). In other words, we relate to the world in a special way. We are an extension of God’s creative work, put here to care for that which God called “Good.”
Now, this isn’t a propaganda speech. My point is that my interest in what I ate raised my awareness of how I lived and how that affected other people and the world I live in. I picked this example because it started with food, just as the Lenten Fast starts with food. And just as my diet extended beyond what I eat, our Lenten fast should as well.
When we fast, we should become more reflective about how our actions impact others and the world we live in.
The fast should teach us how not to simply be consumers, but stewards created in God’s image. Stewards who move outside of ourselves to love—to love God, to love our neighbor, and to love all of God’s creation.
In short, fasting should make us icons of Christ, and, I think, that’s part of what today’s celebration is about.
Whee!
As many of you know, today is the Sunday of Orthodoxy—a celebration of the restoration of icons in the Seventh Ecumenical Council.
This council dealt with the question of icons. In the 8th and 9th centuries, some Christians said that icons should be forbidden. However, the Orthodox view, which prevailed, affirms that because Christ truly took on flesh and became one of us, we can depict Him. Icons are not mere symbols but windows into divine reality, testifying to the Incarnation—God made visible.
This is why the Orthodox Church defends icons: they proclaim that Christ did not just come to teach us spiritual truths but to redeem the whole of creation, including the material world. To deny the holy images is to deny the full significance of the Incarnation itself.
As the Seventh Ecumenical Council declared, honoring an icon is not worshiping wood and paint, but venerating the person depicted—just as we honor Christ Himself. Icons remind us that salvation is not an escape from this world but its transfiguration—a transfiguration that starts with us and our awareness of our impact on the world.
In other words, our celebration reminds us that we are called to be transformed in such a way that we also become icons—icons of Christ. Icons that transform the world as we’ve been transformed.
Yeah!
And so we return to the quote by St. John Chrysostom:
“For what does it profit if we abstain from fish and fowl and yet bite and devour our brothers and sisters? The evil speaker eats the flesh of his brother and bites the body of his neighbor.”
But let us expand this for our modern world: What does it profit if we abstain from meat, wine, dairy, and oil, if we do not allow fasting to transform us? What profit is there if we do not see how we can better reflect Christ in the world? What good is it if our reexamined lives do not lead to repentance, to a change of heart, and to a life of greater love?
Fasting is not an end in itself. It is a means to an end. The goal is love—love for God, love for our neighbors, and love for all of creation. The fast is meant to make us more human, not less. To make us more aware, more grateful, more generous, and more Christlike.
May this Lent be a season of true transformation, where we fast not just from food but from all that keeps us from loving as Christ loves. And in doing so, may we become living icons, proclaiming the Gospel with our very lives.
Amen.