Solomon's Ring

The Bahá’í period of fasting is during the daylight hours of March 2-20 every year, and is mandated and intended as a time of spiritual renewal, so all other considerations associated with it – nutrition, health benefits, work, losing weight, etc., are all secondary to this chief objective. And since the central intent is spiritual, Bahá’ís may certainly gather to break the Fast together and enjoy fellowship, but not hold large feasts to gorge themselves in the dark. Nor is it a time to distract oneself with frivolous activity, but to increase prayer and reflection.

A wee little confession: in my early days of studying the Bahá’í Writings, I encountered these words in a prayer for the Fast: “Thou hast endowed every hour of these days with a special virtue, inscrutable to all except Thee.” I took this to mean that every hour had its own particular and separate virtue, and wanted to make sure I didn’t miss out on a single one of them. I still don’t want to miss a single hour of it, but am much more serene in my approach.

It is personally my most favourite time of the year; I actually fasted during the two years before I declared myself a Bahá’í. During this time perceptions are sharp, spiritual insights abound, and the words of the Scriptures penetrate the heart as at no other time. The appetite for sublime beauty is insatiable, the waves of love sweep the heart out of control, the sweetness of music sets dancing every molecule and pore. Life is awesomely, ineffably wondrous.

Physically, it is not difficult, though I should speak for myself. It just means skipping lunch and to ensure enough liquid intake before sunrise to combat dehydration. Even with that it is much more than the vast majority of the people of the world get for their daily intake.

I don’t want the Fast to end, and often toy with the thought of simply carrying on well after the prescribed date, but inevitably by the end, it is physically wearing, and the body is happy to resume is normal regimen.

One year I was so eager to reap a winter harvest from the Fast that I decided to go it alone during November – this is allowed, but not as a replacement for the March Fast. I was very disappointed in the result. The days were, in Toronto, much shorter than in March, and the whole spiritual atmosphere was quite different – November is a busy month for Bahá’ís, with two holy days (one of them commemorated in the wee hours of the morning), 2 Feasts, the Day of the Covenant, Unity in Diversity Week, and hardly has a November passed where other dates have not been added for various reasons (Thanksgiving in America, etc.). So whether it’s the time of year or whether it’s the synergistic effect of all the Bahá’ís around the world participating in this together, or that it is specially ordained, the March month of fasting is what delivers the goods.

And each and every Fast is unique, with One of the highlights for me this year is chanting one of the long fast prayers in the Bahá’í House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois. This is as good as it gets.

And what are these aforementioned insights? Some of them can be articulated, and some just cannot. They are highly personal, and one really needs to explore this for oneself. They are as unexpected as they are unasked, and are breathtaking as only grace can be. The month is replete with e-mail testimonials from friends around the world on the subject, but no one has said it better than Jalauddin Rumi, the 14th Century Persian mystic poet:

There is an unseen sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness.
We are lutes. When the soundbox is filled, no music can come forth.
When the brain and belly are burning from fasting, every moment a new song rises out of the fire.
The mists are clear, and a new vitality makes you spring up the steps before you.
Be empty and cry as a reed instrument.
Be empty and write secrets with a reed pen.
When satiated by food and drink, an unsightly metal statue is seated where your spirit should be.
When fasting, good habits gather like helpful friends.
Fasting is Solomon’s ring. Don’t give in to illusion and lose your power.
But even when all will and control have been lost, they will return when you fast, like soldiers appearing out of the ground, or pennants flying in the breeze. A table descends to your tents, the Lord’s table.
Anticipate seeing it when fasting, this table spread with a different food, far better than the broth of cabbages.