The Nativity Fast lasts forty days, from November 15 through December 24. We break the fast at the Divine Liturgy on Christmas Eve.
Sometimes you’ll hear it called St. Philip’s Fast. That’s because it starts the day after the Feast of St. Philip the Apostle on November 14. The name stuck in Church tradition, even though the fast isn’t really about Philip. It’s about preparing our hearts for the Incarnation of Christ.
Forty days. That number shows up everywhere in Scripture when God’s people are getting ready for something. Moses fasted forty days on Mount Sinai before receiving the Law. Elijah walked forty days to meet God at Horeb. Christ himself fasted forty days in the wilderness before beginning his ministry. So we fast forty days before celebrating his birth. It’s a pattern woven into how God works with us.
The Nativity Fast isn’t as strict as Great Lent. Think of it as gentler, though it does get more serious as Christmas approaches. We abstain from meat and dairy throughout. On Wednesdays and Fridays the typical rule also excludes fish, wine, and oil; at St. Michael, oil and wine are allowed on fast days. On other days the rule is lighter, and customs differ on when fish is allowed.
In the last days before Christmas the fast tightens, though customs differ on exactly when and how. It’s the Church’s way of focusing us more intently as the feast draws near. The parish’s practice, and any adjustment for you, comes from Fr. Michael.
Christmas Eve itself is the strictest day. Traditionally, we don’t eat until after the Vesperal Liturgy that evening, or at least we wait until evening if we can’t make it to church. Then we feast. The fast ends, and the celebration begins.
Now, there are exceptions built into the fast. Certain major feast days allow fish, oil, and wine even if they fall on a Wednesday or Friday. St. Nicholas on December 6 is one people around here know well. The Entrance of the Theotokos into the Temple on November 21 is another. These feasts punctuate the fast with celebration, reminding us that even our preparation is joyful.
Your priest can give you guidance specific to your situation. People working twelve-hour shifts at the refineries, nursing mothers, those with health conditions, there’s pastoral discretion built into how we fast. The point isn’t to follow rules perfectly. It’s to train ourselves in saying no to our appetites so we can say yes to God more easily.
If you’re new to this, don’t try to be a fasting athlete your first year. Start with something manageable. Skip meat. That’s a beginning. Next year you can add more. Fasting is a discipline we grow into over time, not a test we pass or fail.
What you do with the time and money you save matters as much as what you don’t eat. The Fathers say a true fast includes prayer, reading Scripture, and almsgiving. If you’re just hungry and cranky, you’re dieting, not fasting. If you’re using the forty days to grow closer to Christ, to read the Gospel accounts of his birth, to give to someone who needs it, then you’re keeping the fast the way the Church intends.
We’re preparing for Christmas the way a bride prepares for her wedding. Not at the last minute, not frantically, but deliberately over weeks. When December 25 finally comes and we sing “Christ is born, glorify Him,” we’ll mean it. We’ll have made room for him.
