Big Buts of the Bible

When was the last time you heard someone talk about fasting?

For many Christians, it’s the least familiar of the spiritual disciplines. We understand giving. Most of us have some sort of prayer life. But fasting often feels mysterious, intimidating, or perhaps even unnecessary.

Yet Jesus spoke about it as though it were perfectly ordinary. Not if you fast. When you fast.

That little word caught my attention.

In Matthew 6, Jesus teaches about three acts of devotion: giving, praying, and fasting. Each time He begins the same way.

“When you give…”

“When you pray…”

“When you fast…”

Jesus assumes these practices will naturally flow from a life that is growing closer to God.

But then comes the big but.

“But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father…”

That’s a surprising instruction.

Isaiah had already confronted a similar problem centuries earlier.

God described His people as those who seemed eager to know Him. They appeared devoted. It was as if they were seeking Him wholeheartedly.

But appearances can be deceiving. Their fasting had become more about being seen than about seeing God.

Jesus addresses the very same temptation.

He uses the word hypocrite—a word borrowed from the theater, describing an actor wearing a mask. His point isn’t that fasting is unimportant. It’s that God has never been interested in performances.

He has always been after our hearts.

And that’s where the hope hidden in plain sight appears.

Notice who Jesus says is watching. Not your neighbors. Not your church. Not your social media followers.

Your Father.

Three times in this chapter Jesus reminds us that our Father sees what is done in secret.

What an extraordinary thought. The God of the universe notices the quiet prayer whispered before anyone else wakes up.

He sees the anonymous gift no one else knows about.

He knows the private sacrifice no one applauds.

Not because He is keeping score. Because He delights in relationship.

Giving.

Praying.

Fasting.

None of these practices exist to earn God’s love. They simply become ways of enjoying the love that is already ours. That’s the difference between religion and relationship.

Religion asks, “Who noticed what I did?”

Relationship asks, “Did I spend time with my Father?”

Perhaps that’s the hope hidden in plain sight. Jesus isn’t inviting us to become more impressive. He’s inviting us to become more intimate.

And the Father who sees what happens in secret has a remarkable way of meeting His children there.

Sometimes the most meaningful moments with God are the ones no one else ever sees.