The Fast was coming, and the Dignitary knew if he was going to give himself to the people, he must first give himself to God.
He sought out the Seer and asked him, “What does God want from me during the Fast?”
The Seer said, “God wants what he has always wanted–your prayers. For in your prayers are all needs, desires, loves, and repentance. In your prayers are your very life.”
“Then I will give myself to prayer during the Fast,” said the Dignitary.
“That is well,” said the Seer.
I.
On the first day of the Fast, the Dignitary woke at sunrise and began to pray. He knelt for hours, burning incense and catching candlewax in a saucer. He prayed for all the activities of the day and all the people he knew.
With all his might he prayed. And soon he found himself torn between the powers of regeneration in his spirit and degeneration in his body. Between exaltation and exhaustion.
At midday, the Seer came into the Dignitary’s quarters and asked him what he was doing.
“I am giving myself to prayer so that I will be given to God and to the people.”
“That is well,” said the Seer, “but you ought not spend your praying hours so early in the day when you are tired and weak. The Fast is long, and you will need your strength. Sleep until midday and pray in the evening, as I do.”
“The prayers are all the strength I need,” said the Dignitary. Then he rose and attended to the tasks of the day.
II.
On the second day of the Fast, the Dignitary rose again at sunrise to pray. Again he was wrought between glory and fatigue, between the natural and the supernatural. His body grew feeble and his knees began to quake.
At midday, the Seer came into the Dignitary’s quarters and asked him what he was doing.
“I am giving myself to prayer so that I will be given to God and to the people.”
“That is well,” said the Seer, “but you cannot go on like this. You must sleep so that the Fast will not make you weak.”
“What is the point of the Fast, if not to show me that I am weak and God is strong?” said the Dignitary. “That He is God and I am not–neither me, nor sleep, nor idols.” Then he rose, his body aching, and attended to the tasks of the day.
III.
The Dignitary went on like this for the whole season of the Fast, waking at sunrise and praying until midday for all the events of the day and all the people he knew. After a week, he was noticeably paler. After two, feeble to the point of fainting. And after a month, his knees were bruised from kneeling and his fingertips black from candlewax.
The Seer insisted that he go back to bed, to sleep now and pray later. “Your Spirit is willing, but your Body is weak.”
But the Dignitary rose and attended to the tasks of the day.
IV.
On the last day of the Fast, there were celebrations and feasts and dancing and times of worship, and the Dignitary had twice as many duties as on any other day.
The Seer had begged him to get his rest, but instead the Dignitary rose three hours before sunrise to pray.
At midday, the Seer came into the Dignitary’s quarters. “Have you not slept?”
“I have given myself to prayer,” said the Dignitary.
“But look how spent you are!”
The Dignitary rose, the smell of incense pluming from his very flesh. “When we are weak, when we are tired, that is when we have the most need for prayer.”
“But your prayers are the very thing that have made you weak and tired,” said the Seer. “And now you are feeble all day long.”
“Then my prayers have shown me two things. That I am in need of God all day long, and that though my body is feeble, my soul is strong.”
And then the Dignitary made his way to the Great Feast where he was able to give himself to God, because by prayer he knew His desires, and to the people, because by prayer he felt their needs.
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