For those who know the word “asceticism,” the image that immediately comes to mind is the medieval monk getting interrupted sleep in a cold cell, perhaps wearing a hair shirt; eating bread and water; with little money, perhaps begging daily just to survive; living a life of voluntary hardship. In the late medieval era there were very extreme ascetic movements—one being the flagellants who would wander from town to town and repeatedly beat themselves with whips or sharp objects until the blood flowed as a means of repenting and trying to assuage the wrath of God. In some places around the world such practices still survive. The backgrounds of monasticism are varied, but the ascetic part of it is rooted firmly in the idea that the flesh is evil and must be kept in subjection.

The Reformation, beginning with the monk Martin Luther, revolted against the ascetic tradition. A clear distinction between justification and sanctification and the realization that such self-abnegation does nothing relative to one’s standing with God sucked the life out of the ascetic tradition within Protestantism.

In the modern church, influenced as it has been by the self-indulgent culture in which it lives, asceticism is an exceedingly foreign concept, so much so that many do not even know the word and would be uncomprehending of its practice in the history of the church. If we reject the medieval view, do we necessarily reject asceticism? Given the significant number of examples in the Bible, e.g., abstaining from sex at the giving of the law (Ex. 19:15), various fastings (Est 4:3; Ps 35:13; Joel 1:14; 2:12; Mt 4:2; 9:14, 15; Lk 2:37); the Nazarite vow (Num 6:1-21), and celibacy (Mt 19:12, 1 Cor 7:25-35), we shouldn’t, but it is exceedingly important to be clear about the reasons one might engage in it. First, we must be clear that there is nothing intrinsically evil in what is given up, nor for that matter in the physical nature of human existence. “Flesh” in the New Testament is more properly understood as a moral term, or sometimes our physical existence as the theater of operation for our sinful nature. Second, unlike the Roman Catholic position, ascetic practice is generally not universal or permanent, but voluntary and temporary. Third, giving up something is not an end, but a means. Fasting is often a means of increasing spiritual sensitivity. Marriage may be forgone, for example, by a missionary, as a means of more effective service. But asceticism must never become, as it tended to do in the medieval period, a source of pride for one’s supposed spiritual superiority.

There is a place for self-denial in our understanding of sanctification, but only when understood and practiced in the right way and for the right reasons. It does not make us holy in itself (Is 58:3-7), but it can demonstrate to God our desire for him (Mt 6:16-18) or our commitment to ministry (Ac 13:2, 3).

Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer, Dana Arledge, Will Uminn