Oba wan dun Fausten deist,dan wausch dien Jesecht un besorj die de hoa, soo daut nich de Menschen, oba jun Voda em Jeheemen, dien fausten sitt. Un dien Voda, dee doa sitt, waut em Jeheemen väajeit, woat die Doafäa effentlich loonen.

- Matäus 6:17-18

Fasting is presented as a vital, scripture-rooted spiritual discipline that belongs to the life of believers. The practice is defined simply—as abstaining from food—with several recognized forms: total fasts (food and water, with biblical examples limited), food-only fasts of varying lengths, and partial or Daniel-style dietary fasts. Fasting is not optional conjecture but portrayed in the same vein as giving and prayer—introduced in Matthew 6 with the same wording, “when you…,” indicating expectation and regularity. The discipline is to be pursued privately and sincerely, not as public show; the posture should be humility before God rather than a means of self-exaltation.

Practical contours are emphasized: fasting must be personal in motive, not a religious system of checkbox behaviors; it must be practiced in faith and paired with earnest prayer when seeking spiritual outcomes; and pastoral guidance about length and bodily care is given to avoid harm. The teaching highlights specific spiritual effects—weakening the flesh to make room for the Spirit, creating a focused environment for repentance, intercession, and seeking God’s direction. A concrete testimony of breakthrough over bitterness demonstrates how extended, prayerful fasting can dislodge hardened attitudes when combined with Scripture and persistent petition. Practical cautions close the treatment: do not convert fasting into rote ritual, expect no simple formula, and reintroduce food slowly after longer fasts to protect the body.

Resources are suggested for further study, and the urgency of learning a largely neglected discipline is underscored for the present age. The overall tone is pastoral, urgent, and pastoral-practical: fasting is both accessible and demanding, a tool for spiritual warfare, repentance, and growth when undertaken with humility, faith, and prayerful dependence on God.

Wan jie fausten, sell jie nich lange Jesechta moaken soo aus de Heichla. Dee vestalen äare Jesechta, daut Menschen seenen sellen daut see fausten. Ekj saj junt de Woarheit: Dee haben äaren Loon aul wajch. Oba wan dun Fausten deist,dan wausch dien Jesecht un besorj die de hoa, soo daut nich de Menschen, oba jun Voda em Jeheemen, dien fausten sitt. Un dien Voda, dee doa sitt, waut em Jeheemen väajeit, woat die Doafäa effentlich loonen.

- Matäus 6:16-18

Fasting is framed not as a private rule-keeping exercise but as a joyful response to the presence and absence of the Bridegroom. Drawing from Luke 5, the call of Levi and the banquet with “tax collectors and sinners” becomes the doorway into the question of fasting. In the presence of Jesus, celebration was fitting; after His ascension, purposeful fasting would mark love and longing for Him. The emphasis is on the why, not the how: fasting is less about techniques and more about directing hunger toward Christ, training the will to serve love rather than appetite.

Modern abundance, convenience, and busyness have dulled the church’s practice of fasting, and sometimes secular “optimization” eclipses spiritual purpose. Colossians 2 warns against human-made rules, self-imposed worship, and harsh treatment of the body—approaches that look wise but cannot restrain the flesh. Christian fasting is not ascetic self-punishment or a diet baptized with Bible verses; it is a grace-directed habit that confesses dependence and aims at communion with Christ. It should be practiced with wisdom, humility, and honesty, not as a public display of righteousness or as leverage against God.

Practical counsel is simple: start small. Skip a meal with prayerful intention. Let hunger become a bell that calls the heart to seek righteousness. Communicate with family, consider health realities, enter and exit longer fasts gently, and remember that secrecy in fasting is about avoiding pride, not hiding from the people who serve and love you. Scripture gives a range of faithful reasons to fast—intercession, repentance, seeking deliverance—but all are gathered up into one center: submitting desires to Jesus and preferring Him above good gifts.

There are also wrong motives. Fasting is not a hunger strike to force God’s hand, not a badge of spiritual superiority, and certainly not a tool to harm others. Instead, fasting forms a heart that rests in the finished work of the cross, where Christ disarmed powers and canceled our debt. Even secondary health benefits are secondary; the chief reward is deeper fellowship with Christ. In a culture of constant access to food and constant distraction, fasting recovers a neglected habit of love: training the body to follow the soul, and the soul to follow the Bridegroom.

Christmas Morning Service

Woat hee Gloowen finjen? - Pastor Peter Thiessen

Ekj saj junt, daut hee an sea boolt to äa Rajcht vehalpen wudd. Un doch, wan de Menschensän komen woat, woat hee opp de Ieed uk Gloowen finjen?

- Lukas 18:8

Tracing Matthew 2 through the long arc of Scripture, the focus lands on the line “Out of Egypt I called my son” as the key that unlocks how Jesus fulfills Israel’s story in a way no one before Him could. The narrative threads begin with the patriarchs and a buried hope: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob anchored their futures in the promised land, while Joseph—the beloved son who descended into slavery and prison, then was exalted—foreshadowed a pattern of humiliation leading to glory. Egypt, the place of Joseph’s exaltation and Israel’s later bondage, becomes both sanctuary and threat. In the Exodus, God redeemed His firstborn people, marked their doors with blood, and inaugurated a story where every firstborn belonged to Him—a pattern that finds its completion in Christ, the true Firstborn who redeems all.

The history of kings exposes human failure: Solomon’s catastrophic disobedience, Jeroboam’s counterfeit promises and idolatry, and Herod’s murderous jealousy echo Pharaoh’s hardness. Yet where Jeroboam also “came up from Egypt” and led Israel astray, Jesus retraces the path without compromise—conceived by the Spirit, protected by divine direction, and obedient in every step. The Magi’s worship, Joseph’s sleepless obedience, and the night flight to Egypt showcase providence moving quietly and decisively. Matthew’s citations—Hosea 11, Jeremiah 31—are not trivia; they reframe loss within a larger hope. Rachel’s weeping names real grief; God’s answer is not denial but the advent of a Son who will carry that grief to its end on a cross and rise to reign.

The return to Nazareth signals more than geography; it announces the faithful Son who will succeed where Israel, Solomon, and Jeroboam failed. Psalm 2 crowns this vision: the Son is enthroned; the nations are His; refuge is offered to all who bow. This is not merely a beautiful story but a living claim: those once at war with God can be brought out of Egypt—out of bondage, idolatry, and self-rule—by union with the true King. Such news is treasure to be shared, not buried. Shared joy deepens joy. As one year closes and another opens, the call is clear: trust the Son, follow His lead, and make known the rescue He has accomplished.

Derch dit see wie, waut Leew werkjlich es. Daut wia nich onse Leew fa Gott. Daut wia siene Leew fa ons, daut hee ons sienen Sän schekjt, ons de Sinden auftonämen.

- 1 Johanes 4:10