To live in comfort while others are being starved into submission is not just morally jarring—it is a rupture in the fabric of distributive justice. A just world demands that we recalibrate our consumption, our rhythms, and even our habits of satisfaction. Not as ascetics, but as citizens of a shared human family. It is an existential obscenity to fatten ourselves daily while others, no less human than we, are subjected to engineered famine.

But let us be clear: the grotesque demon tormenting Gaza would be powerless without its sponsor. The Iguana may drip with blood—its crimes blatant, brutal, and unrepentant—but it is our own American demon that must be cast out first. This is the demon that smiles in suits, speaks the language of freedom, baptizes bombs with patriotic platitudes, and funds atrocity with our taxes. It signs weapons contracts by day and sleeps easy at night. Without this demon’s blessing, the Iguana would be starved of its power and stripped of its impunity.

Fasting, in this context, is not merely a protest against a distant brutality—it is a reckoning with our own national complicity. A spiritual confrontation with the monster that wears our flag while devouring the innocent in our name. We must take the beam out of our own eye before addressing justice abroad. To fast, then, is to disarm that monster within—to make war not only on the lie, but on the liars we have become through our silence.

Because this kind—the kind that sanctifies domination, that turns the cry of the oppressed into a threat, that survives every defeat by rebranding itself as virtue—is shrewder than any of us can imagine. It cannot be reasoned out. It cannot be tricked into exorcism like lesser demons. It adapts, it reemerges, it cloaks itself in new justifications.

No — this kind yields only to love. Not sentimental love, but love embodied in complete solidarity with its victims. Love that denies itself comfort for the sake of conscience. Love that takes on suffering freely—not to earn virtue, but to shatter indifference.

As Jesus told his disciples when they failed to cast out a particularly stubborn spirit: “This kind can come out only by prayer and fasting.” (Mark 9:29)

That is what prayer and fasting are. Not pious rituals, but love with skin on. This kind does not come out by cleverness. It comes out through prayer and fasting.

Join us. Let your body bear witness. Let your spirit make war on the lie.

If enough interest emerges, we will offer a solidarity fast registry—not for show, but for strength: a visible moral network affirming that you are not alone, and that conscience has not been silenced by propaganda or despair.