I fast "not so" - what will they think of me?
Who among us has never experienced: “How do I look in front of these people?”, “What will they think of me?” etc. - Hands up. Forests of hands are not observed.
How sometimes the opinion of other people is important to us and it is disturbing how we look in their eyes, whether there will be condemnation or rejection, whether there will be approval or praise.
The problem of dependence on external evaluations is a frequent occurrence. When there is no stable sense of self (what am I?), a formed identity (who am I?), a basic deep sense of self-worth (I am good, I am valuable in myself, I have the right to life), then external evaluations become fundamentally important.
They told me that I did well - phew, you can live. They looked at me askance - horror, something must be done urgently, or, even better, just disappear, not to be, because it is too unbearable to endure disapproval.
You need constant confirmation from the outside of your existence, your goodness, otherwise the world collapses, because there is no own support or it is very shaky, unstable.
The problem is familiar to many, rooted in childhood and relationships with parents, in the lack of basic unconditional acceptance and love. We can talk a lot about this, but today we will pay attention to one aspect of the discussed experience of “what will they think of me” - the fact that in front of whom this experience unfolds. Or, in other words, who is its addressee and who can become its addressee.
"Don't be despondent like the hypocrites." What is the motivation?
On Forgiveness Sunday - the last Sunday before Great Lent - in the words of the Gospel of Matthew, the Savior tells us not only about forgiveness (Mt, 6, 14-15), but also about how we should fast (Mt, 6, 16-18), but also about treasures in heaven (Matthew 6:19-21). "Don't be despondent like hypocrites so that people appear to be fasting".
It would seem that we all have known for a long time about hypocrisy and that there is no need to go around and blow the trumpet, what a faster I am, demonstrating to a contemptible neighbor that I do not eat vegetable oil in the first week of fasting. But sometimes in church communities it happens that it is very important that everyone fasts the same way.
And not only fasted - sometimes unwritten rules relate, for example, to the permissible framework for the general emotional background of communication (you need to talk modestly, quietly, without showing bright emotions), clothing style (it should preferably be gray-beige tones, dim, without jewelry), hairstyles (it is advisable for women not to cut their hair and put it in a bun, it is highly desirable for married men to wear a beard), etc.
And if you try to “fall away from the flock” – it’s fashionable to get a haircut during Great Lent or come in a bright coat to the canon of St. Andrew of Crete, eat something inappropriate in the presence of a brother in Christ, etc. - the consequences are easily predictable. That same sideways glance… and what will they think of you!
I don't mean to say that you have to wear a bright pink scarf on your head on Good Friday if you have scarves of a different color in your closet. I want to problematize the motivation, in particular, of fasting - in the context of the topic under discussion “what will they think of me” and the gospel words of Forgiveness Sunday about fasting. It happens that we do something precisely because it is important for us what they say about us (parishioners, confessor, colleagues, etc.).
I put on a black headscarf in the post - why? Because everyone in the parish does it and it's important not to stand out? Because the color of the vestment is black, and I want to be in full compliance with the “theme”, the most correct one? Because I feel so inside that I don’t want bright colors in my clothes right now, despite the smell of spring in the air? Or maybe I really want brightness from this smell, but I’m afraid “what will they think of me”, and therefore I put on what is “required” for fasting?
The clothing example may no longer be very relevant, especially in large cities, but this is just an illustration to reflect on in front of whom I do certain things. Do I worry at the same time, “what will they think of me”, what drives my actions, what is the true motivation, which in appearance can be very nice.
Maybe it's true that I'm driven by fear? Fear of judgment, rejection. The desire to be good or be like everyone else. Desire to get a good grade. Approvals, by the way, are important not only to unchurched people. Sometimes the problem of dependence on external evaluations in a person who has come to church as a social institution with a clear system of rules only becomes more acute.
Previously, it was important just to be praised, but now there is a clear “party line”, clear evaluation criteria, now it becomes more clear what and how to do in order to earn approval. Especially the approval of the confessor as a powerful authoritative figure, and of the parishioners, if there is an established community, of course, too.
And all this seems to be good. But what does the Savior call us to when speaking about fasting?
In front of the Father
“But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may appear to those who are fasting, not before men, but before your Father who is in secret.”(Matthew 6:17-18).
There are two important points here. First, God wants a personal, intimate relationship with a person. And secondly, He is the Father. And if He is the Father, then who am I? And if I am a beloved child of God, if He wants to be with me regardless of the view of other people, then how important and at the same time healing it can be to transfer my experience of “what will they think of me” from people to Him.
Before people, anoint your head and wash your face, and fast before Him. Before the Face of the Father, decide what and how I will do. Before Him to think whether I am doing well or badly. Before Him, open your wounds, pour out pain and doubts, petitions and thanksgiving. In the limit - to live in His presence, next to Him, on His territory, to which Great Lent calls us.
Adam was expelled from paradise. The prodigal son returned to his father and began to live with him. And maybe then it won’t be so important for us what other people think about us, but it will be important whether I’m with the Father now or not, the Father Who sees the secret and rewards clearly.
