I dealt with the subject of fasting about eighteen months ago, so I am not going to look directly at it again. But the context of that subject was raised before the Lord Jesus, and it leads to an interesting investigation. Why did the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees fast oft, but those who followed the Lord Jesus during His earthly ministry did not? Perhaps you privately fast oft, and believe me, I do not criticize you in any way if you do. In fact, I commend you if you fast properly, and I commend you for not telling the world that you do. That is in complete accord with the instructions of the Lord Jesus in His Sermon on the Mount. But for the majority of us, why is it that the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees fast oft, but we do not? Reduced to its most rudimentary parts, the answer to both questions is: we are not sad. Religious fasting is related to religious mourning – sadness.

Was John the Baptist a child of God, a saint of God, a worthy servant of God? Certainly! During the months prior to the unveiling of the Lord Jesus, and beginning of His ministry, there were a number of men who gathered around John and who became his disciples. That is, as well as their jobs, lives and families could allow, they followed John, listening to what he had to say, and learning about the Lord through him. John was a true prophet of God. Despite not understanding some things, he knew what he was meant to know, and he shared those things with others. He was, in that way, very much like any of the Old Testament prophets. He was given a revelation about some things, but not about other things. And in his case he was as ascetic – living in the wilderness, denying himself any of the comforts of home. He ate raw and wild foods, not the nice city fare of even the poor common people. He lived in strict self-denial, and we must assume that in some ways his disciples did as well. We know from other scriptures that over time some of the disciples of John became disciples of Christ. Generally speaking, can we say that the disciples of John were saved? I believe that it is very likely, in the same way as many Old Testament believers were, they were saints of the Lord. But in the fact that they were still disciples of John rather than of Christ, and in the questions which they posed to the Saviour from time to time, we must conclude that their Christianity was somewhat different from that of Peter, James and John.

For example, the disciples of John fasted often, perhaps on a regular and regimented schedule. But the disciples of Jesus never fasted in the religious sense of the word. John’s disciples, and the Pharisees said that fasting is a good thing and meritorious in the sight of God. And the modern Pharisee says the same thing about all kinds of external rituals and worship. But the Lord Jesus says “No! Not necessarily.” The thing, the ritual, the sacrifice, the religious rite is nothing in itself, if there isn’t the right heart behind it. Here is a Christian who thinks that the Lord’s Supper should be observed every Sunday night, but here is another who says that it should never be observed more than once every quarter or perhaps yearly. One man insists that his wife wear something on her head to church, but another insists just the opposite. One pastor preaches nothing but topical sermons, but another insists on expository messages. One man’s religion is as serious as death, but he may be as much a Christian as the more jovial man.

Obviously, there are fundamental doctrines which define who and what we are as Christians. The deity, the virgin birth, and the absolute sinlessness of Christ are not open to debate. The nature of salvation – the blood atonement, repentance and faith are not to be questioned. There are perhaps a hundred other doctrines just as important, permanent and fundamental. But whether a man fasts oft or never depends on the condition of that man’s heart and what the Lord has put into it. If any man is sad, let him fast, but if any man is merry, let him sing psalms – James 5:16.

In other words, some aspects of the outworking of our faith are somewhat elastic. It is like the stem of a wonderful orchid, the flower of which is determined and guaranteed by the Lord. But the plant’s stem moves and sways according to the wind, the weather, its age and its health. My mother used to darn our socks, because we didn’t have money to constantly buy new socks. But the material with which she fixed the hole, made a great difference on the sock’s comfort. Some holes could be merely stitched together, but larger ones could require a bigger solution. To sew a piece of rayon onto the bottom of a cotton sock was never a good idea. In fact to sew that rayon onto a cotton or wool shirt or skirt was not going to work very well. “No man putteth a piece of new cloth unto an old garment, for that which is put in to fill it up taketh from the garment, and the rent is made worse.” “Neither do men put new wine into old bottles: else the bottles break, and the wine runneth out, and the bottles perish: but they put new wine into new bottles, and both are preserved.” Verse 17 takes us back to that idea of elasticity. And together they remind us that in some ways, Christianity is not a one size fits all sort of thing. John was not wrong in the way that he lived, even though it was different from that of Christ.

In Christ’s answer he refers to himself as the Bridegroom.

At first I missed the significance of that word in this context. Who was it that said, “He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled”? In the context of that statement in John 3 the speaker also said, “Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before him.” “He must increase, but I must decrease.” John was the one who first spoke to his disciples about the bride, the groom and their friends. Jesus’ reference to children of the bride-chamber refers to the friends of the wedding couple. John was one of the friends of the groom. And even he said, that in addition to the joy of the couple, there should be joy among their friends. Let’s not push all this into the ecclesiastical doctrine of the Bride of Christ. Let’s restrict it to an illustration of one specific point. The simple lesson here is that Christ is the Bridegroom, and there is great joy in His presence.

One important thing to notice first is that Jesus was well aware of His Christness and his divine Sonship. In this statement, he steps into the place of Jehovah and claims some wonderful prophecies as His own. He promises the love, protection, communion and that special union which God has given to His people. Since these disciples of John had not quite come to realize these things, though many of them will, at this point they are missing the joy which could be theirs.

Christ’s disciples, on the other hand, were living in the presence of the Saviour.

At this point, some of us might be tempted to think that since Christ has now been taken away, we should be in mourning, and we should therefore fast oft. I realize that this might be debated, but I’m not going to agree that our Bridegroom is gone. When He said, “Lo, I am with you alway,” it was not in reference to His post-second-coming presence. That was a part of what Jesus said to His disciples in the so-called Great Commission – today!

The absent Christ is still the present Christ. We correctly say that He is gone up on high and sits at “the right hand of God, the Father.” But isn’t that the place to which we go whenever we bow our knees in prayer? “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” I know that it is mysterious, mystical and marvelous, but I believe in the a local abode of the glorified human body of Jesus Christ. But I also believe that as the omnipresent God He is as near to us as our own hearts. Yes, the disciples lost something when Christ ascended into Heaven, but they gained even more. Jesus said, “I tell you the truth; It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you.” In some marvelous ways, Christ and the Holy Spirt cannot be separated, and therefore we are still in the presence of the Saviour.

When was it that disciples were left comfortless? When were they in mourning? when did they fast? As the crucifixion was approaching, the disciples were cast into confusion. At Gethsemane they forsook Christ by sleep, and then they watched Him being marched away in bonds. They fled every man to his tent so to speak; only a handful trailed Christ – at a distance. Peter denied His Saviour in the court of the High Priest. And then a few hours later, Jesus was gone, murdered, sacrificed, and having willingly given up His spirit. For three days, and three nights from Wednesday evening to Saturday night, the disciples had been “widowed.” They should have been in mourning; they should have been fasting; and probably they really were. But then “up from the grave he arose, with triumph over all his foes. He arose a victor from the dark domain to live for every with the saints to reign.”

Do you think that those disciples were fasting and mourning once it sunk in that their Saviour lived? When the two from Emmaus returned to Jerusalem, it was with great joy. Once the doubt was driven out, the fasting stopped and the spiritual feasting began. I know that it will be greatly enhanced when the Bridegroom will return, but we may still enjoy His presence even yet today.

And this is my third point this afternoon.

The presence of the Lord may contain no practical blessing to us unless we want to realize it. As I say, I believe that as much as is true in any group of professed disciples, there were true children of God among the disciples of John. But as long as they were not literally disciples of Christ, they were fasting rather than feasting. They may have had full confidence that Jesus was the Lamb of God, just as John had been teaching, but they were not living in His presence and enjoying His fellowship. They knew nothing about the joy of such a relationship.

There is no joy in this world like the joy that there is in Christ Jesus. There is marital bliss and great joy in parenting and grand-parenting. There may be comfort and happiness in possessing lots of money and the things of the world. A warm bed, with a full tummy, and knowing that there is a full refrigerator in the other room are really nice. But such joys are not the same as enjoying close fellowship with the Saviour.

And then there is the all too common problem facing all of us – over-consideration of the problems of life. Our deteriorating health is a concern – if not to us, then it is to our loved ones. The economy seems to suggest that our refrigerators are not going to be so full in the near future. Our governments are terrible, and it seems that our rulers can’t rule even their own passions – especially their greed. As we look around us, watching the signs of the times, and the approach of the Tribulation, we may be tempted to pull out the old fasting schedule. But I remind you that most of our problems are not any worse that those of the disciples in Jesus’ day, yet they did not mourn and they did not fast – because they lived in the presence of the Son of God.

Christ should be the source of our joy, because of Who He is. It is impossible to speak too highly and joyfully about the Lord Jesus. He has promised to meet our every true need, and He can certainly do it. “All things work together for good, to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His will.” Those words from Romans 8 are often quoted around here, but more or less enthusiastically by different people on different days.

I know that I am pushing my illustration beyond its logical dimensions, but consider that famous painting of “The Last Supper” by Michelangelo, improving it with the Word of God just a bit. There is Jesus in the center of the picture, behind a table, with His disciples extended off to either side. The Bible says that “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John) was actually leaning on Jesus’ chest. Are you aware that Michelangelo did not paint him in that way? Then there were Peter and James while the rest of the disciples were further and further from Christ. Where in that number was Thomas would you think? And here we are, all disciples of Christ; we are not mourning; we are sitting at the table with Him feasting. But isn’t it true that there are at least six degrees of separation between us and the Lord? Are any of us actually leaning on Jesus’ breast? We may be near Him, but separated by Brother Andrew or Sister Mary. In fact we may be down near the end of the table. We may be ready to lock the refrigerator and the cupboard, preparing to fast once again, because our hearts are filling with sadness. Why is that? Is it really justified? Is not the Saviour right here with us?

Why have so many Christians so little joy in their lives? Sadly, some are Pharisees, finding fault with other disciples of Christ for dining with sinners. And others are like the disciples of John, so wrapped up in denying themselves, or studying the problems of the world that they can’t see the joy that there is in the Lord Jesus. Are you aware that you and I are commanded to live in joy? There may be a place for fasting, especially when we are in trouble brought about by our sins. But as a general rule, fasting should not have a regular place in our religious lives.

I’m going to conclude this message in a rather unusual way – I’m going to read an extended passage from an old Baptist preacher. In studying our text from Matthew 9 I ran into a message by Alexander Maclaren called “The Secret of Gladness” taken from the Book of Mark. He asks: “Why have so many Christians so little joy in their lives? A religion like that of John’s disciples and that of the Pharisees is a poor affair. A religion of which the main features are law and restriction and prohibition, cannot be joyful. And there are a great many people who call themselves Christians, and have just religion enough to take the edge off worldly pleasures, and yet have not enough to make fellowship with Christ a gladness for them. There is a cry amongst us for a more cheerful type of religion. I re-echo the cry, but I am afraid that I do not mean by it quite the same thing that some of my friends do. A more cheerful type of Christianity means to many of us a type of Christianity that will interfere less with our amusements; a more indulgent doctor that will prescribe a less rigid diet than the old Puritan type used to do. Well, perhaps they went too far; I do not care to deny that. But the only cheerful Christianity is a Christianity that draws its gladness from deep personal experience of communion with Jesus Christ. There is no way of men being religious and happy except being profoundly religious, and living very near their Master, and always trying to cultivate that spirit of communion with Him which shall surround them with the sweetness and the power of His felt presence. We do not want Pharisaic fasting, but we do want that the reason for not fasting shall not be that Christians like eating better, but that their religion must be joyful because they have Christ with them, and therefore cannot choose but sing, as a lark cannot choose but carol.

‘Religion has no power over us, but as it is our happiness,’ and we shall never make it our happiness, and therefore never know its beneficent control, until we lift it clean out of the low region of outward forms and joyless service, into the blessed heights of communion with Jesus Christ, “Whom having not seen we love.’ I would that Christian people saw more plainly that joy is a duty, and that they are bound to make efforts to obey the command,’Rejoice in the Lord always,’ no less than to keep other precepts. If we abide in Christ, His joy ‘will abide in us, and our joy will be full.’ We shall have in our hearts a fountain of true joy which will never be turbid with earthly stains, nor dried up by heat, nor frozen by cold. If we set the Lord always before us our days may be at once like the happy hours of the ‘children of the bridechamber,’ bright with gladness and musical with song.”

Why didn’t the disciples of Christ in Jesus’ day fast? The simple answer is that despite the problems that they had in the world, they were living in the presence and the joy of Christ Jesus. Where there is no sadness, there should be no fasting.