Fast and Feast - Hunger and Communion

by Yining Lu, Open Spirit intern

Since I come from a Buddhist background, it was my first time hearing the word “Iftar” and learning about the fasting month of Ramadan in Islamic tradition. The idea of refraining from food and drinks during the whole day for a consecutive 30 days was surprising to me. This is such a strict practice! What motivates people to take part in such a practice? I came with so many questions.

I felt honored and fortunate to hear the two insightful reflections at the start of Iftar. Having passed another day of Ramadan, the speakers encouraged practitioners to reflect more deeply on the experience of hunger. It reminds practitioners that countless people in the world are constantly living in hunger (thus fasting during the daytime). It then helps practitioners develop gratitude and appreciation for the food and water that we often take for granted. Beyond that, it also deliberately places practitioners in a state of hunger for spiritual food, creating capacity for more mindful self-reflection, more focused attention, and room for spiritual nourishment.

Reflecting on my past experiences, I felt that this insight resonated deeply with me. There were times while I was living in monastic residences within both Buddhist and Christianity traditions. In such settings where I was intentionally searching for spiritual guidance and growth, I often found myself feeling hungry easily, and even after consuming more food than usual, I would not gain weight. It reminds me of the saying “Your body is a temple.” I strongly believe that the body is the place where the ordinary and transcendent connect. The iftar invites us to start paying more attention to spiritual nourishment.

While the concept of fasting is ubiquitous across various religious traditions, the tradition of Ramadan has a distinctive flavor. In my role as greeter, I was surprised to see that so many people came carrying pots of food they’d made or bought. The food and drink almost filled up the entire space that we provided. I heard multiple people exclaiming that this was like a Thanksgiving feast. It was all so fresh, delicious, and rejuvenating. The soft chatter we made while waiting in line, the kind nodding we offered to strangers, the gentle smiles, keen listening, and pure curiosity we exchanged at the long table during the feast, all wove together and filled the air with a merry and joyful spirit. I finally got a deeper and embodied understanding of the communal element of Iftar, thanks to the presence of every gentle spirit who co-created such a loving community gathering.

Bathing in such a communal nourishment, I felt the energy also directed me towards more consciously recognizing the importance of familial bond. This feeling did not only come from the fact that so many people were coming with their families. It also came from the surprise and wonder of being asked, more times in one meal than I had in the past 8 months since I arrived in the U.S., "Where is your family?"

Again, I was impressed by the profound wisdom embedded within the practice of Ramadan and Iftar. The pre-dawn meal provides the opportunity for communion with family, grounding oneself for the day of fasting ahead. The meal after sunset then serves as a window to celebrate and acknowledge the shared experience of hunger, set within a communal gathering of neighbors and the wider community.

I felt so nourished driving back home, both physically and spiritually. At the same time, I carried a greater hunger-- for more opportunities for such communal and interfaith gathering, and for more spiritual insights from various wisdom traditions.