Orthodox Christians fast every Wednesday and Friday throughout most of the year. Wednesday commemorates Judas’ betrayal of Christ. Friday remembers His crucifixion.
These aren’t occasional disciplines. They’re the weekly rhythm of the Church, woven into ordinary time just like Sunday Liturgy. If you’re coming from a Baptist or non-denominational background, this probably sounds strange. Most Protestant churches don’t fast at all, or maybe they’ll do a Daniel Fast once a year when the pastor suggests it. We fast twice a week, every week, because the Church has done this since the beginning.
What the fast involves
On these days, Orthodox Christians traditionally abstain from meat, dairy products (milk, cheese, butter, eggs), fish, olive oil, and wine. That leaves you with vegetables, fruits, grains, legumes, nuts, and bread. It’s simpler than it sounds once you get used to it. Peanut butter and jelly works. So does pasta with marinara (check the label for cheese). Rice and beans. Hummus and pita. You won’t starve.
Different parishes have different expectations about strictness. Some Antiochian parishes ask people to avoid meat and alcohol at minimum. Others follow the fuller traditional rule. Ask your priest what’s expected at St. Michael’s specifically, because I can’t answer that for you.
The fast typically runs from midnight to midnight, or evening to evening if that works better for your schedule. If there’s a church gathering with a meal, the fast is usually relaxed. This isn’t about being rigid.
When we don’t fast
There are exceptions. Bright Week (the week after Pascha) is completely fast-free. So is the week after Christmas. When major feasts fall on Wednesday or Friday, the fast is often relaxed or lifted entirely. The Church calendar governs this, and your parish calendar will note when fasts are suspended.
There are also personal exceptions. Pregnant women, nursing mothers, children, the elderly, people with health conditions, those doing heavy physical labor, all of these warrant pastoral guidance. If you work a twelve-hour shift at the refinery and you’re on your feet all day, talk to your priest. Fasting isn’t supposed to harm your health or make you unable to work. It’s medicine, not punishment.
Why we do this
The point isn’t the food. It’s what fasting does to you.
When you fast, you get hungry. That hunger reminds you that you need God more than you need anything else. It makes you aware of your body, your appetites, your tendency to reach for comfort and pleasure without thinking. Fasting creates space for prayer. It trains you in self-control. It unites you to Christ’s suffering and to the discipline of the whole Church.
Wednesday’s fast keeps the memory of betrayal before us. We remember that one of the Twelve sold Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. We examine our own betrayals, the ways we’ve chosen comfort or approval or money over faithfulness. Friday’s fast is even more direct. We stand at the foot of the Cross. We don’t do this once a year on Good Friday. We do it every week, because the Crucifixion is the center of everything.
St. Basil the Great wrote that fasting is older than sin itself, instituted in Paradise when God told Adam and Eve not to eat from one tree. We broke that fast and fell. Christ restored what we lost through obedience, and we participate in that obedience through our own small acts of self-denial.
How this differs from other fasts
The Wednesday and Friday fasts are brief. One day at a time, twice a week. Great Lent lasts forty days. The Nativity Fast goes from mid-November through Christmas Eve. Those longer fasts have additional liturgical services, more intensive prayer, and a different spiritual weight. The weekly fasts are gentler, steadier. They’re the baseline, the ordinary discipline that shapes your week.
Think of it this way: Great Lent is like hurricane season, when everyone’s focused and preparing and the whole rhythm of life shifts. The weekly fasts are more like the ordinary heat and humidity you live with all year in Southeast Texas. You adjust. It becomes normal.
Starting out
If you’re new to this, don’t try to be a hero. Start by giving up meat on Wednesdays and Fridays. Get used to that. Then maybe add dairy. The goal isn’t perfection on week one. The goal is to grow into the life of the Church gradually, under the guidance of your priest. Fasting should help your prayer life, not make you irritable and self-righteous.
And when you fail, because you will, we all do, confess it and move on. You’ll forget it’s Friday and eat a cheeseburger at lunch. You’ll be at someone’s house and it’ll be awkward to refuse what they’re serving. That’s fine. This is a discipline of healing, not a test you pass or fail. The Church is a hospital. We’re all patients here.
