Content note: Disordered Eating<\/p>\n
What are you doing for Lent? People ask me this every year, and they often share their intentions: promising not to eat chocolate, abstaining from alcohol, not eating meat, trying to watch less TV, and so on. In the history of the Church, Lent has been a time of fasting, of not eating certain foods, or eating little\u2014based on the forty days Jesus spent in the desert fasting and enduring temptation. In some Christian traditions, fasting becomes a mark of spiritual commitment, something to show your discipleship.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s hard for some\u2014maybe many\u2014of us, because fasting implies a certain relationship to food. It suggests that food is somehow problematic and that abstaining from it does you spiritual good. Often the messaging around fasting is that it helps you empathize with those who don\u2019t have enough, or that it allows you to replace mealtimes with more time in prayer, or that it enables you to donate additional money to charity. Of course, empathizing with others, dedicating more time to prayer, and donating to charities are good things. And if fasting helps you to better engage in these things, that\u2019s great.<\/p>\n
But for me, as someone who struggled for years as a teenager with an eating disorder, the minute I hear the word \u201cfasting\u201d in church, my stomach clenches. I struggled with anorexia, and then episodes of bulimia, in my teens and early adulthood. Food was a constant problem. I have recovered, thanks to a combination of therapy and prayer support. But food is still hard. It is my Achilles\u2019 heel. I still worry about putting on weight, and I still tend to want to turn to food for comfort. And so one of my spiritual disciplines is to not turn food into a thing, into an \u201cissue.\u201d I cook and enjoy eating. I refuse to have scales in my house. I do not weigh myself, and I do not diet. I try (but don\u2019t always succeed) not to worry if I have a treat, or if a bar of chocolate helps me feel better on a bad day. I have some trusted people around me I can speak to if it gets hard, and who can help me recognize if I cross the threshold into needing help. So I never, ever fast. I try hard not to feel guilty about it, and I explain it simply to those who like talking about fasting and ask, \u201cWhat are you doing for Lent?\u201d<\/p>\n
In Lent, if I deprived myself of chocolate, it would have far more to do with losing weight than with turning to God. So I do not fast, and my discipline is the \u201cdiscipline\u201d of all times: to try and see food as God\u2019s gift, and neither overvalue nor undervalue it. And alongside this, I try to see my body as a gift rather than a burden. Body image, like food, can be overvalued, or undervalued. It is good to love my body and care for it, but when I am tempted to let body image dominate my thoughts, I need something else to turn to.<\/p>\n
In Lent therefore, instead of focusing on fasting, I turn to something else. A very wise friend once shared that in some Orthodox churches, Ash Wednesday is not just a day of penance\u2014to look back\u2014but also a day of celebrating the arrival of spring. This means Lent is not just about what we forgo, but about what, and who, we turn to<\/strong>. As a symbol, together with ashes, the beginning of Lent is marked by flying kites<\/a>. A kite says, \u201cThis is who we turn to.\u201d So during Lent, I am flying symbolic kites: turning to a God who cherishes me and my body, a God who has given us great riches, and who walks with me as I keep trying to find ways to live well in the world. I choose hope.<\/p>\n If you would like to hear more of Isabelle\u2019s story of recovering from disordered eating, you can explore Session Four of The Sanctuary Course<\/em><\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\n In Canada and the US, February is recognized as Eating Disorders Awareness Month.<\/p>\n If you are experiencing an eating disorder, it is important that you talk to a doctor or mental health professional. There are also many organizations with helplines dedicated to offering support and providing resources.<\/p>\n Cover photo by Viktorija Lankauskait\u0117<\/a> on Unsplash<\/a><\/p>\n Isabelle Hamley is currently the Principal of Ridley Hall, Cambridge, a theological college training men and women for lay and ordained ministry. She has previously held posts as a parish priest, university chaplain, and lecturer in biblical studies. Before ordination, she worked as a university lecturer and as a probation officer, combining her two passions\u2014theology and working with people who struggle with life. She\u2019s passionate about the Old Testament because it speaks into the messiness of life with both hope and realism, and for its relentless focus on justice. She is a regular contributor to BBC Radio 4, and writes and speaks regularly on matters of public theology. She is married to Paul, an environmental scientist, and they have a teenage daughter who is easily the best theologian in the family. Isabelle\u2019s publications include The Bible and Mental Health<\/em> (with Sanctuary Advisor Chris Cook), Struggling with God<\/em> (with Sanctuary Ambassador John Swinton and Sanctuary Advisor Chris Cook), and her latest book, Embracing Humanity<\/em>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
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\nRev. Isabelle Hamley, PhD
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![\"Isabelle](\"https:\/\/sanctuarymentalhealth.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/11\/Isabelle-Hamley.png.webp\")
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