Ramadaan is an inspiring time of the year for all of us
IN THE past few days, driving home around North Beach after dark, it was inspiring to see groups of white-robed men emerging from evening prayers at the mosque.
We are in the last few days of Ramadaan – the holiest month of the Muslim year – and the intensity of prayer and fasting goes up a notch.
As a person of faith, I am inspired not only by the practices of my Christian tradition but also the religious practices of many other believers, each of us following different pathways but towards the same God.
Fasting is what most non-Muslims think of when they hear of Ramadaan and it is not surprising that food plays such an important role in religion.
After all, eating is something we do every day. Refraining from all food or some types of food is a clear way of embedding our religious practice in our daily lives.
Many religions have prohibitions on specific types of food.
For omnivorous Christians or secularists this might seem an intrusion too far in a lifestyle of pleasure. Giving up pork sausages, prawns or beef burgers would be a big sacrifice for me. But millions who belong to certain faiths take that in their stride.
They refuse certain foods either because of imputed sanctity (Hindu don’t eat beef) or because of perceived uncleanliness (Muslims and Jews don’t eat pork and Jews also don’t eat shellfish). Some strict Hindus and Buddhists avoid meat entirely.
As well as an act of self-sacrifice, this is also a sign of identity: it marks out the follower of that faith from others.
I had a hint of that as a child when it was common for Catholics to refrain from meat on Fridays and so – going to a non-Catholic school – my habit of eating fish on Fridays identified me to my Protestant friends.
Fasting is concerned not only with what we eat but also with the time of day we eat.
The Christian tradition is linked to Lent – the period of 40 days before Easter usually falling between February and April (though it is a moveable feast).
Here the restriction is self-imposed which is why Christians run around talking about giving up cakes and giving up coffee.
It lasts for the 40 days and 40 nights and what it might lack in breadth it makes up for in depth.
Easter eggs are the enduring visible sign of this practice since that is how the person who has given up chocolate can best break their fast at the end of Lent.
Traditionally, it was not only the period before Easter but also the period before Christmas that was for fasting – but I imagine with all the office parties in December, the Advent fast is long-forgotten by most.
Other religions will have intense days of fasting (Yom Kippur for Jews) or certain days in the week (Wednesdays and Fridays for certain Hindu traditions).
Ramadaan is probably the most well-known fast because it is the most dramatic.
As most people know, the rule is that nothing may enter the body from before sunrise to after sunset, no food, no drink (including water), not even medicines.
In the clinic that we run at the Denis Hurley Centre, where most of our patients are refugees and many are Muslims from Somalia or Burundi, this can be very frustrating for the hard-working clinical staff.
They want to keep people healthy but the patients’ religious practices can thwart that.
But rather than being dismissive or judgmental, we need to seek to understand the religious practices of others.
That is why each year we encourage a day of Ramadaan fasting for non-Muslims: to observe the same ritual of rising before dawn to eat the first food of the day, refraining from all food and drink during the day and then enjoying the pleasure and relief of Iftaar after sunset.
We are doing that today and will be breaking the fast with our neighbours from Islamic Propagation Centre International and the Grey Street mosque – a unique chance to share in the experience and also to share in the celebration.
Fasting for all religions is an act of submission to God and a sign of self-sacrifice. But it is also an important act of solidarity. Those of us who can choose not to eat, or who can decide to give up chocolate, are reminded while fasting of those who do not have the choice.
I recall when working in a refugee camp receiving a directive from the Vatican about food that I was allowed on a “fast day” in the Catholic calendar. The amount was astonishing – quite a bit more than most refugees eat every day of their lives. But that does not only happen in refugee camps; even in a city as wealthy as Durban, there are people and families who regularly go hungry.
We feed 300 breakfasts and lunches to the homeless at the Denis Hurley Centre and are grateful to the traders and volunteers who donate food and time to make this possible.
There are many other organisations of all faiths that feed those in need – the Hindu Food for Life does this on a monumental scale.
Sometimes people ask me if we are not creating dependency by feeding people. My answer simply is to ask them if they eat every day and, if they do, why they would not extend that dignity to others.
It is not a coincidence that during Ramadaan or Lent, or other periods of fasting, people of faith also are even more generous in their acts of charity towards those in need.
Once we feel even in a small way what it is like to go without, we develop a greater empathy for those who do so every day. We can therefore match the virtue of “giving up” with the attendant virtue of “giving back”.
So while anticipating a wish of “Eid Mubarak” for my Muslim brothers and sisters who are about to end their fast, I also hope that their felt experience of hunger during Ramadaan will continue to inspire them – and all of us – through the year to remember those who have no choice but to be hungry every day.
A shared interfaith Iftaar will be held today at 4.30pm at the Denis Hurley Centre – all are welcome whether they have been fasting or not.
Perrier is the director of the Hurley Centre