Fasting in Prison

Fasting behind bars presents unique challenges that do not exist in the free world. The prison diet is already meager. The physical demands of the environment—cold cells, minimal exercise equipment, the constant stress of hypervigilance—make voluntary food deprivation a serious proposition. Unlike fasting at home, where you can rest comfortably and drink water from a clean tap, fasting in prison means going without food while surrounded by men who will notice, who will ask questions, and who may interpret your abstention as weakness or eccentricity.

Nevertheless, I fasted a couple of times during my imprisonment, and I found it to be a useful spiritual discipline still available behind bars. The physical emptiness reinforced the spiritual reality: I was utterly dependent on God for sustenance, both physical and spiritual. The hunger pangs reminded me, hour by hour, that “man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4).

For the incarcerated Christian who wishes to fast, my counsel is to begin modestly. Skip one meal and spend that time in prayer. Do not announce your fast to the módulo. Do not make a show of it. “When thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face; that thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret” (Matthew 6:17-18). Your fast is between you and God. Let it stay there.

Scripture Memorization as Survival

When my cell phone was confiscated—and it was confiscated more than once—and when my physical Bible was unavailable, the only Scripture I had was what I had stored in my memory. Although I managed to keep my study Bibles without loss during my time in jail, losing one’s Bible is not a hypothetical danger. Bibles can be taken, borrowed, and not returned; damaged by water or mold; soiled by other inmates; or simply lost in a transfer. The Word of God in your mind is the one copy that cannot be confiscated.

I read my Bible twice during my imprisonment. I had already memorized key passages prior—from the gospels, the Sermon on the Mount, Psalms 23, 37, 55, 91, Proverbs 3, 16, 23, Isaiah 40, Acts, Romans 8, and the epistles. In jail, I did not memorize much of the Spanish Bible, which I read alongside my English New King James Version, but constant Bible reading and assimilation were tantamount to a man storing water in a desert. There were nights when the darkness was so thick, the despair so tangible, the loneliness so suffocating, that only the remembered Word of God kept me from the abyss.

“Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee” (Psalm 119:11). The psalmist was not speaking metaphorically. He was describing a survival technique. Hide the Word in your heart—not in your phone, not in your backpack, not in the prison library, but in the indestructible vault of your memory. When everything else is stripped away, the Word remains. It is the one possession that no guard can confiscate, no cellmate can steal, and no transfer can separate from you.

The Lord’s Day Behind Bars

The Sabbath does not stop because you are in prison. The Fourth Commandment is not suspended by incarceration. But honoring the Lord’s Day in a place that makes no distinction between Sunday and Tuesday is an act of deliberate, countercultural faithfulness.

In prison, every day is the same. The routine does not change for the Sabbath. The guards do not give you time off. The noise does not abate. The other inmates do not observe a day of rest. If you wish to set Sunday apart, you must do so by your own discipline—rising earlier to pray, spending additional time in Scripture, gathering with other believers if any are willing, refraining from the card games and gambling that consume most inmates’ idle hours. Sometimes the guards may force you to work, and you have little choice but to obey them.

I made the Lord’s Day different from other days as much as I could. I worshipped more deliberately. I read more Scripture. I participated in preaching and worship services. I tried to devote the day to spiritual matters rather than legal correspondence or book editing, unless it was related to ministry and Christian life in prison. It was not perfect—the institutional schedule permitted no true Sabbath rest—but the attempt itself was an act of faith, a declaration that the God who commanded, “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8), still rules even behind the walls.

Action Steps

Begin memorizing Scripture immediately if you are incarcerated or preparing for prison ministry. Start with Romans 8:28-39, Psalm 23, and Psalm 91. Add one new passage each week. Write the verses on any available surface if paper is scarce—the back of a legal document, a piece of cardboard, anything.

Establish a worship gathering, however small. Even two believers meeting regularly constitutes a church (Matthew 18:20). Designate a day, a time, and a simple format: prayer, Scripture reading, preaching or teaching, prayer again. Consistency matters more than sophistication. Even if you must be alone, you can still worship.

If you are a ministry supporter, send hymns and worship resources that do not require instruments—psalm texts, hymn lyrics, catechisms set to verse. These materials are lightweight, easily reproduced, and can sustain worship for years without external support. Guitars are often permitted in prisons, so by all means send one of those, too, if the Christian prisoner knows how to play it.

Practice private prayer in public settings. Learn to commune with God regardless of your surroundings. You will never have silence. You will never have privacy. Pray anyway. God hears the whisper of the heart as clearly as the cry of the voice.

Recognize prison as a harvest field. If you are incarcerated and a believer, you are not there by accident. God has placed you among men who would never walk into your church. This is your mission field. Act accordingly.

Discussion Questions

How does the loss of privacy and material comfort affect the practice of spiritual disciplines? In what ways might deprivation actually deepen one’s spiritual life?

Read Acts 16:25-34. How did Paul and Silas’ worship in prison—and the jailer’s subsequent conversion—illustrate the themes of this chapter? What does their example teach us about the relationship between worship, witness, and Providence?

Why is Scripture memorization more important in prison than in ordinary life? What passages would you prioritize for someone entering incarceration?

How should we understand God’s providential purpose in bringing unsaved men into contact with the Gospel through imprisonment? Is it theologically appropriate to see prison as a “harvest field” orchestrated by divine sovereignty?

Prisons may have many hungry souls, but they also have a disproportionate number of sly men with reprobate minds (Romans 1:28). How can one distinguish between the two and thus avoid wasting time, even if treasuring up wrath (Romans 2:5) against the latter group might be seen as valuable in some sense?