Keep it simple. “I’m fasting.” That’s usually enough.
But if your coworker at the plant or your Baptist aunt wants to know more, you don’t need to launch into a theology lecture. You can say something like, “My church keeps certain fasts to help us focus on prayer and be more mindful of others.” Most people get that. It’s not weird to them that you’d do something intentional with your body to help your spiritual life. They understand training and discipline.
What Fasting Actually Is
Fasting isn’t about earning points with God. We’re not trying to rack up enough meatless Wednesdays to balance out our sins. That’s not how salvation works in Orthodoxy. We’re being healed, not keeping score.
The Church asks us to fast from meat and dairy on Wednesdays and Fridays, and during longer seasons like Great Lent. We do this because our bodies and souls aren’t separate things. What we do with one affects the other. When you fast, you’re training yourself in self-control. You’re loosening the grip that food and comfort have on you. You’re making space.
And here’s the thing: fasting is never just about food. It’s always connected to prayer and almsgiving. The three go together. If you’re fasting but not praying more, not giving more, not trying to be kinder to the person who annoys you at work, then you’re just on a diet. The Fathers are clear about this. St. Basil the Great said that if you fast from food but keep tearing down your neighbor with your words, what’s the point?
What to Actually Say
When someone asks, you can be honest without being preachy. Try something like: “It’s a spiritual practice to help me pray more and give more.” Or, “We avoid meat and dairy on certain days as a way to remind ourselves of simplicity and to stand with people who don’t have much.”
If they’re genuinely curious, you can say a bit more. Explain that it’s part of the rhythm of church life, tied to our worship and the seasons. That it’s not punishment but medicine. That the Church has been doing this since the beginning, and it’s one of the ways we stay connected to that ancient practice.
Don’t apologize for it. But don’t be smug about it either. Nobody’s impressed by someone who makes a show of their fasting. Jesus had some pretty harsh words about that in Matthew 6.
The Southeast Texas Factor
Here’s the reality: you live in a place where food is hospitality. Your coworkers bring boudin to the break room. Your family does crawfish boils. Someone’s always grilling brisket in the church parking lot after the game. Fasting can feel socially awkward.
You don’t have to make a big announcement. But if someone notices you’re eating the potato salad and skipping the ribs, and they ask, just tell them. Most people respect it once they understand it’s a religious practice. They might not get it completely, but they’ll get that it matters to you.
And look, if your mother-in-law is hurt that you won’t eat her pot roast on a Wednesday, you can explain gently. Tell her you’ll gladly eat it on Thursday. Tell her you appreciate her cooking and this isn’t about rejecting her love. Sometimes you have to navigate these things with extra grace, especially when you’re new to Orthodoxy and your family’s still adjusting.
When It Gets Complicated
Some people will push back. They’ll say it sounds legalistic or like you’re trying to earn your salvation. You can clarify: “We don’t fast to earn anything. We fast because it helps us. It’s like physical therapy for the soul.”
Others might worry you’re judging them. You’re not. Make that clear. Say, “This is what I’m doing. I’m not saying everyone should.” The Church has always made exceptions for health, for pregnancy, for a hundred different reasons. Fasting is a tool, not a test.
And if someone’s genuinely interested, if they want to know more about Orthodoxy because they see something in how you live, that’s when you invite them to come to a service. That’s when you mention that your priest would be happy to talk. That’s the real goal anyway, not to win an argument about meat, but to show them Christ.
You’ll get better at this with practice. The first few times someone asks, you might fumble for words. That’s fine. You’re learning to speak about your faith in a place where Orthodoxy isn’t common. But you’ll find your way. Just remember: you’re explaining something you love, not defending something you’re embarrassed about. Fasting is a gift. When people ask, you’re just telling them what the Church has given you.
