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This little discussion of Lenten birthdays has put me to thinking about Lents past, and about the various things that people decide to “give up” for the season. In my case, of course, there aren’t really that many past Lents to remember. Mormons don’t observe Lent; they take Easter as more or less an isolated incident. Sometime in my rebellious Mormon adolescence, I realized how seriously defective this was (though without having any clear notion of what the alternative would be). Consequently, when I took my first Catholic theology course and learned about the liturgical calendar, everything clicked immediately. I resolved to do my best to observe Lent that year, and I’ve been doing so ever since.
Of course, for those first few Lents, I didn’t really have a clear sense for what precisely I ought to do. I wasn’t trying to pretend to be Catholic per se, but the Novus Catholics who surrounded me were obviously the main available model, and for them the chief element of Lent (beyond the fasting on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday) seemed to be “giving up” things. The pattern seemed to be: pick something you really like, and do without it for 40 days. People picked all kinds of things, and observing them, I found some Lenten efforts admirable, while others just seemed unspeakably silly. But one resolution I made right away: I would not pick anything that related to food. This might seem odd in a season that was supposed to be about fasting. But I had my reasons, and they related to the fact that I was living at the time in a girls’ dormitory.
College-aged girls do a lot of dieting in any event. Think of any silly fad diet you can remember, and the chances are good that some girl in my dorm tried it. The silly, fluttery socialite who roomed with me freshman year was constantly getting visitors dropping by wondering whether a particular article of clothing “made her look fat.” The slimming urge became particularly powerful, however, as the warm months approached. And lo and behold, right at that same time came the perfect tool for bolstering your diet: Lent. It started in winter, and by the time it was over, swimsuit season was almost upon us! I watched with a kind of horrified fascination as numerous girls in my dormitory tried to put the authority of the Church behind their stringent dieting efforts. The result was a grotesque combination of Catholic guilt and the classic dieting yo-yo. Girls would draw up a program far more rigorous than their willpower would allow, and declare it to be their Lenten resolution. Then they would hold up for a few days, cave in to their cravings, moan about their thighs, and wonder whether they should go to confession. There was something quite deranged about the whole spectacle.
It was in reaction against all this that I drew up my “no sacrificing food” rule. I found fairly respectable ways to observe the season without a change in diet. My freshman year of college I gave up listening to music (one of my favorite forms of entertainment at the time). Sophomore year it was sleeping in — I had to be up by 8:30 even on Saturdays (and anyone who checks the times on my posts knows that I’m decidedly not a morning person.) Junior year I gave up hot water (40 days of cold showers!) and studying on Sundays. (People scoffed at that being a sacrifice, but it really was. I had to arrange my week quite carefully to get my assignments done on time, and I tried to spend Sundays in a more devotional fashion, instead.) Senior year I relaxed my food rule a bit, and did the 100% vegetarian Lent.
Eventually I learned about the older, traditional Catholic rules for fasting, and now I just observe those rules every year, with fasting and partial abstinence. I sometimes impose other little penances on myself too, or try to take up an extra devotional practice for the duration of Lent. But I preserve at least a little of the spirit of my old rule, in that I put no real restrictions on the type of food eaten at meals (except, obviously, for some limitations in the eating of flesh meat.) And although I wouldn’t want to interfere with any Lenten penances that seem to work for people, I would suggest that this might be a good precautionary measure to adopt, especially for young women, or anyone much inclined towards physical vanity. A general effort to eat plainer and simpler is fitting during Lent. But twenty-year-old girls should not be encouraged to observe the season by giving up sugar or fatty foods. Alcohol and meat might be acceptable sacrifices, especially since that rule is very clear-cut. It’s easy to distinguish between alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, or between meaty and vegetarian dishes. But giving up “junk food” or “sweets” or “fatty stuff” plays too much into a girl’s already-developed instincts to watch her thighs, and the complexes that follow are not congenial to the Lenten spirit. Let them give up hairspray, make-up, or curling irons instead!
St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
Oh! Were you in Balch Hall too? I lived there for my first two undergrad years at Cornell (1997-1999). Thoroughly agree with you about the weird eating disorders.
At one time, there were posters in the ladies’ bathroom appealing for bulimics to seek professional help because the cleaning lady was regularly finding vomit. And it was even worse in the sorority houses…But I digress.
Yes, I have heard umpteen women say “I’ll fast for Lent — I could afford to lose some weight”, and it always annoyed me — I felt like saying “If you really want to suffer for God, then eat a tub of lard.”
I must admit, I have often noticed this too, but I never thought it reason to avoid establishing more temperate eating habits during Lent, if you struggle with that virtue. One year, I did a detoxification diet with my roommate and it was one of the most penitential seasons I’ve ever experienced - flax oil first thing in the morning and days without salt, sweeteners, oil or dairy! We did not lose any weight but, by the end, my body was sensitive to more unhealthy foods which proved helpful at maintaining better eating habits.
I do think one ought to balance out such sacrifices with more “spiritual” penances. For instance, one might perform special devotions during Lent and I too find it difficult to retire early in the evenings, so that can be a worthwhile sacrifice for me. Another way to mortify vanity is by covering mirrors. Silly as it may seem, the sight of covered mirrors in a house is also oddly sobering, like seeing holy images covered at church.
What Raindeer said.
Can’t say I’ve ever had this experience. (But I made a conscious decision after my freshman year not to live with silly girls in college and had no truck with curling irons or make-up. Hairspray, on the other hand, has invaluable inflammatory properties!)
But perhaps (just perhaps) college-age girls are not as silly in the main as your fellow students.
Despite growing up in a family of many daughters, giving up sweets was a standard Lenten practice (and a real sacrifice for me & my raging sweet-tooth.) We did learn that penance has to be appropriate to one’s state in life when we were teenagers and my mother forbade us (there were several siblings who wanted to try the Orthodox fast) to give up meat entirely, as she was the one who was doing the cooking and she was not going to cook more than one meal for us all.
I do wish you would stop with the “Novus Catholic” moniker. I started reading this blog again because the use of such language seemed to have ceased.
I’m no preferer of the EF, but I’m hardly a “New Catholic,” nor as uncatechized (there’s a substitute term for you) or lukewarm as your college dorm-mates. I dislike being lumped in with them. The use of such an unsatisfactory term comes off as being in the spirit of the fifth-grade boy who follows his sister around the playground with his finger poised milimeters from her arm chanting, “I’m not touching you.”
Clara, your post is wise and prudent. It shows the correct attitude toward Lenten penance. So often I hear people tell me they are going on a diet for Lent or they will lose weight or quit smoking when Lent comes. Now, I recognize the difficulty of these things, but they are not Lenten penance. Just because something is difficult or looks like penance doesn’t mean that it is penance.
Catholics tend to take great pride in giving up something for Lent….and making sure EVERYONE knows about it. It isn’t penance if you complain about it, ought to do it anyway (e.g. quit smoking), or do it for purely selfish reasons. But neither is it enough to just obey the rules. For example, the Church law is that we must fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. However, we ought also give the money we save from fasting to the poor. If we give up going to the movies we shouldn’t use the time gamed by watching television but by doing giving of our time in works of prayer or charity. Prayer, fasting and almsgiving all go together as different parts of a whole.
We used to have the season of Septuagesima or Pre-Lent to remind us to prepare for Lent. Removing it from the Church’s calendar was not for the better. We need to prepare our penances…think about them, plan for them.
And if anyone reading this hasn’t done anything yet, it is never too late to start. Just recall the parabal of the Laborers in the Vineyard.
Interesting comments, all! Fr. Bailey’s brings up another trend in Lenten resolutions that I always thought ridiculous: giving up things that are obvious vices anyway. This became a kind of fad in one of my years in college, and I remember people talking about how they were giving up jealousy, or dishonesty, or pornography for Lent. It was pure silliness. By all means, give those things up right away, but understand that refraining from vice does not count as a penance!
As for Peregrinator’s and Raindear’s comments, I understand what you’re saying, and I don’t absolutely rule out food-related penances, but I do think great caution is warranted. Note, Peregrinator, that I did not say that college girls were purely silly and trivial through and through. They are not, but I think it is true that the desire to be trim and pretty is all but universal among them, and more potent than many of the non-frivolous-seeming ones would like to admit. Even those who don’t struggle overmuch with vanity (and if you asked my parents, husband, or college friends, I think they would identify me as someone who hasn’t manifested much physical vanity at all, though I can’t promise they’d say the same about other varieties) may find once they begin fasting that their motives are more mixed than they realized… it’s just so tempting to think with pleasure of one’s pleasantly trim appearance in an Easter dress! That being the case, the near-universal decision of the young women I knew to sacrifice sugar and fat for Lent seemed decidedly fishy. They would have done much better, I think, to resolve to pray their Rosaries daily for the duration of Lent, rather than enlisting the Church’s help with their dietary struggles.
I’m afraid, EM, that I don’t even know where Balch Hall is on Cornell’s campus! I was never an undergrad there, you see, and grad students are famously terrible about getting to know any part of their campus other than the library and the building that houses their own department. But it’s interesting to hear that you were a Cornell undergrad at right around the same time that I was at Notre Dame.
Oh, and yes, I wanted to say something about the term ‘Novus Catholics.’
I do not use it as a childish taunt. That accusation seems quite unfair; reread the post above and you’ll see that I noted that there were a variety of penances chosen by my Novus Catholic friends, and that I found some ‘admirable’ in a addition to the silly ones. I do sometimes suggest criticisms of Novus Catholics but I also criticize Latin Mass Catholics (I sometimes call them ‘Traditional Catholics’), quite often in fact. It does seem ridiculous to me to use the term ‘Novus’ as an insult without further explanation (and yes, I realize that that happens sometimes), but I can’t see the problem with using it to identify a group. ‘Novus’ Catholics are, of course, those who prefer to assist at the Novus Ordo Mass. Rome came up with that name for it, not me, and the fact remains that the form of Mass you prefer is, in the larger history of the Church, quite new.
If you’d like to suggest a different nomenclature, I’m listening, but if it’s just a “why label groups at all” sort of plea, I don’t tend to have much sympathy with that. Together with Mass preferences go substantial cultural trends, and we need a way to talk about them. When you think unfair generalizations are being made, feel free to jump right in and say so, but we do need a term for referring to devotees of the Novus Ordo Mass, and ‘Novus Catholics’ seems to be the generally preferred one.
Man, who let the Novus Catholic on the blog?
Now, now. Play nicely with the other children, dear.
As might have been noticed, I’m not a young woman, but may I register a bit of a complaint on the direction of some of these directives? After conceding the clear points (ie, girls tempted to actual eating disorders shouldn’t be fasting, etc), I do have to say that it’s easy — far TOO easy — to get huffy and self-righteous about penances. We’ve discussed this before, but there is unquestionably more merit in taking penances because they’re prescribed than in taking them of our own accord, even if the ones prescribed are easier for us than ones we might impose on ourselves. Obedience is a higher virtue than self-flagellation, as the later is a greater tempter to pride. I guess I don’t see what’s wrong with a young girl taking heart in the plus side of Lenten moderate eating, ie, a bit of lost weight, so long as she isn’t losing her last 2.3 ounces of body fat and slipping into a coma. And while I’ll be the first to laud anyone saying an extra Rosary a day during this season (or any time!), it’s very difficult to say in any particular case what would be better for someone else. I’d not be surprised if, in some cases, sincerely penitent young girls will advertise, if you will, their “giving up”s as related to dieting, if only because dieting is more socially acceptable than a strict fast for spiritual ends. But giving up curling irons, while that might be a good thing for some particular vain young thing, simply cannot replace, fully, fasting from food in the spiritual life. Just ’cause she “fasts” a lot through dieting for secular ends doesn’t mean that it can’t also be repurposed for spiritual ends — in fact, it’s that very spiritualization of worldly trends that Catholics need to embrace and encourage, not repudiate because they’re not unmixed!
One other thing: in my bad ol’ Episcopalian days, I remember getting frankly a bit sick and tired of hearing people lauding univerally “doing extra” for Lent rather than “giving things up.” While it’s not bad to add extra, giving things up can *never* be replaced!
To second Fr. Bailey — Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. They all go hand in hand!
Well, maybe we’ll just have to disagree here. Actually, I don’t quite see the relevance of this:
“We’ve discussed this before, but there is unquestionably more merit in taking penances because they’re prescribed than in taking them of our own accord, even if the ones prescribed are easier for us than ones we might impose on ourselves. Obedience is a higher virtue than self-flagellation, as the later is a greater tempter to pride.”
If you’re defending the traditional fasting rules, fine. I fully concede the virtue of that practice, and anyway it isn’t really dieting in any normal sense, because no particular food group (save flesh meat sometimes) is ruled out. And obviously if you’re a religious, or even if you’re not and your spiritual director or confessor advises a particular sort of fast, then of course you should take your superiors’ words seriously. But obedience has nothing to do with the cases I mentioned. None of these people seemed ever to have heard of the “traditional” fasting regulations (I had never heard of them until a few years ago), and they weren’t on orders from their pastors or spiritual advisors (actually I once heard a priest give a homily in our dorm advising against rigorous Lenten fasting regimens, which may have been at the request of the sister in charge of our dorm, who was always worrying about the eating disorder problem.) These girls were just picking things to give up on their own, and obedience per se was not an issue.
But I guess I just disagree with this:
“I guess I don’t see what’s wrong with a young girl taking heart in the plus side of Lenten moderate eating, ie, a bit of lost weight, so long as she isn’t losing her last 2.3 ounces of body fat and slipping into a coma.”
You seem to be casting this favorably as a kind of double-effect case wherein the upside of lost weight is incidental, and not one of the primary motivating factors. That may not be the correct way of reading it, however. I think, again, that the difference here may relate to the question of chosen versus prescribed penances. Insofar as a practice is prescribed by the Church, we can trust that those who follow out of obedience will be blessed; even if our motives are mixed, the desire to obey is certainly good, and if we are humble and diligent God may give us the grace of purifying those motives. But the Church doesn’t prescribe low fat diets during Lent. She doesn’t say anything about empty calories or saturated fats. It’s individual people who choose to make those the focal points of their Lenten resolutions, and I’m just suggesting that we should be careful about choosing for ourselves penances that we know will gratify other vain impulses of our own. Far better, no doubt, to ask a pastor or spiritual director to suggest a penance, or just to follow the traditional pre-Vatican II fasting laws, which don’t leave much room for analyzing private motives, or for feeling at all special for doing something that millions have done before us.
With regards to the particular case I mentioned, I will applaud you for trying to give my young peers the benefit of the doubt. But do note the context. However prickly she may be today, the young, 18-year-old Clara had no developed notions about the proper way to fast. She was in no temper to be huffy or self-righteous about penances. Quite the contrary, she was excited about her first real Lent and eager to learn and to get into the Lenten spirit. But when she witnessed the ethos of obsessive “religious dieting” that descended on her dormitory, she was quite frankly repulsed, and the memory gets no softer to this day. Maybe some of the policies developed in reaction to it were too strong, but believe me, something was definitely amiss.
I don’t actually disagree that we should all give things up in addition to extra prayers and almsgiving during Lent. I do think that a measure of asceticism in penitential seasons is good for all of us. Nonetheless, I have gently suggested daily Rosary prayer as a Lenten activity to some Novus acquaintances who are trying to think of something to do. Of course, they really should both give things up and pray, but if they’re the sort of person who’s given up popcorn last year and pancakes the year before, they’re unlikely to dive straight into the full traditional fast, and I kind of think that praying the Rosary daily is likely to do them more good than avoiding cookies for five weeks. Maybe you’ll think me an agent of modernism, but such are the prudential calculations that we make.
And do note too that, although praying the Rosary is hopefully an uplifting activity at least some of the time, it obviously can be regarded as a penance, because it is often prescribed as such by confessors.
“Together with Mass preferences go substantial cultural trends, and we need a way to talk about them.”
I don’t have a problem with descriptors for groups, provided those groups actually exists. Your statement quoted above is so incomplete as to be misleading. The assumption that one can accurately describe people’s participation in cultural trends based on their liturgical preference is false. G iven that the Ordinary Form is just that, the norm, for the U.S., the culture and practices of those who attend are more likely to be determined by other factors (catechesis or lack thereof, for an important example.) As such, lumping all those who attend the OF together is as misleading as lumping in the followers of Pope Michael I with those who attend a licit Tridentine Mass by preference.
Would you say that the cultural trends that accompany the OF would include a strong preference for Latin in the Liturgy? And for Gregorian chant? A determination to obey and accept all Church teachings (especially those that our debased culture rejects)? Love for traditional devotions? To get into broader “cultural trends” do you suppose “Novus Catholics” are proponents of large families and classical education? The implication of your (original) post is “No.”
And yet, these are (some of) the cultural trends that accompany my preference for the OF; and the bulk of my Catholic acquaintance are members of the same culture.
“When you think unfair generalizations are being made, feel free to jump right in and say so,”
The term itself is an unfair generalization, the more so since, as you yourself point out, it’s (often, I would add, and especially in the mouths of self-described “Traditionalists”) used as an insult.
As for alternate nomenclature, it will be difficult to find any that you would accept, if you insist on classifying people by liturgical preference alone. I have to think your fellow students who used penance as form of dieting were simply uncatechized or lax.
Ambrosius, I’m afraid you are mistaken. There are no “Novus Catholics” here.
Peregrinator,
Here is the sentence that I used:
“The Novus Catholics who surrounded me were obviously the main available model, and for them the chief element of Lent (beyond the fasting on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday) seemed to be “giving up” things.”
What does this have to do with Gregorian Chant, large families, or classical education? Do you disagree that picking things to give up is a common Lenten practice for most Catholics who assist primarily at the Novus Ordo Mass? If not, then there is no reason to object to what I said.
But at the end of the day, it seems you do object to the naming of groups, or at least this particular one. You object because you don’t think you are a group, just because there are more of you. Groups, however, can come in different sizes. And even though there is obviously considerable variety among such a large group of people, there are also meaningful trends. That being the case, identifying someone as a ‘Novus Catholic’ does give you some non-trivial information about them, particularly on a blog like this where a goodly percentage of the participants (and all of the contributors) are not members of that group. I don’t classify people by liturgical preference alone, but in my experience a person’s liturgical preference does tell you something meaningful about them.
Note that we do this kind of thing all the time in life. When talking about people we will often casually mention their age, sex, nationality, profession, etc. That’s not to say that every person of the same age, the same sex, or the same nationality fits precisely with a pre-set collection of stereotypes. But there are certain meaningful trends among them, so it’s worthwhile to give the information. Likewise with ‘Novus Catholics.’ In this post, the term highlighted exactly the relevant contrast, because most Novus Catholics do more or less make up penances for themselves every Lent, whereas Traditional Catholics tend to look more to pre-Vatican II customs.
Also, your assertion that “we’re just the norm” becomes false when you’re discussing things in a larger historical context, as we sometimes do here. The devotees of the Novus Ordo Mass manifest some trends that are not common to the Church historically. In a discussion where I wanted to highlight these contrasts, what would be the best way to say it? I could just say “Catholics today”, but that might be confusing on a blog like this where many of the participating Catholics self-consciously reject the practice or attitude in question. I could say, “Catholics today who are not devoted to the Traditional Latin Mass,” but that’s rather wordy, don’t you think? I expect you’re getting the point. For many purposes it is meaningful to regard those devoted to the new Mass as a group. So they need a name. And I can’t see anything inherently derogatory about being named for the form of the Mass that you prefer.
While it’s true that the term ‘Novus’ is sometimes hurled as an insult, the same is true of the term ‘traditional,’ which has been thrown in my face more than once in an unflattering way. That’s just the way things will go sometimes when there are strong disagreements between people. It’s unfortunate, but changing the names won’t help anything. If misperceptions on the part of traditional Catholics are the problem, do your best to change those. On the other hand, if the trends identified among Novus Catholics are real and pervasive, try to change those, or at least distance yourself from them.
I don’t really care for these ‘EF’ and ‘OF’ abbreviations, by the way. Much too cute for my taste. It sounds like a brand of clothing. If they really catch on I’ll begrudgingly submit, but I don’t see what’s wrong with just talking about the Novus Ordo and the Traditional Latin Mass. Those are much more descriptive labels anyway.
Top Ten Signs That You May Be a Novus Catholic
1. You have a child named John Paul
2. You have a child named Benedict
3. You pray the “luminous” mysteries of the rosary
4. You belong to a “ministry” of some sort
5. You don’t own a copy of the Roman Catechism
6. You’re a big proponent of NFP education
7. You have participated in a Protestant liturgical service
8. You have participated in a Jewish liturgical ceremony
9. You refer to heretics as “our separated brethren” and to Jews as “our older brothers in faith”
10. You take offense at the term Novus Catholic
Peregrinator,
When have I ever used that term? If you’re going to fuss at someone, at least get the name right!
Clara,
Generalizing from personal experience is necessary, but fraught with difficulty. I’m not saying that people can’t sacrifice food in the wrong spirit, but it’s necessary to make some distinctions here. So a bunch of girls at a Catholic school had a defective understanding of Lent and tied dieting to fasting in a way that was unseemly. Fine. That’s not necessarily going to translate into a general rule for all young women.
We agree completely in our desire to help our fellow Catholics come to a deeper understanding of Lent, of penance, and of Fasting. But I think that the kind of devout young girl who would take a rule like you’ve mentioned here seriously is probably ready for something a bit meatier, if you will.
I guess the nub of my concern is that it’s a very difficult thing to know, really, what will “do more good” for someone else. We’re called on to help our children and, to some extent, our friends and family to make this determination. But we have to be quite careful to give help in a way that allows great latitude for individual variation, going to great lengths to give instruction without condescension, and rarely. God can transform a good intention through grace, plus occasional help from us.
Here, here, Ambrosius. Presumably eating disorders have persisted for most of human history. The Church sees this and still prescribes fasting as one of the 3 rules of thumb for Lent.
When mommy says to do it, just do it.
Ambrosi,
I guess I don’t think of myself as “giving spiritual instruction” so much as just raising a concern, which I think is a real concern. I did use the word “rule”, true, but it was a proposed rule. Obviously that leaves an open invitation to debate, which people did. Which is fine.
Generalizing from personal experience can be dangerous, but if I give the full context of my personal experience, I think I can trust readers to decide how relevant they think it is to their own cases. If we can’t do that, it doesn’t seem that personal experience will be of any use at all.
Catharina,
I already specified that this advice should in no way trump fasts prescribed by the Church. We have to be more careful about penances we make up ourselves, which is what we are now discussing.
And, not that this has much to do with anything, but eating disorders are a pretty recent phenomenon.
Or actually, how about starvation in history? Despite the phenomenon of human starvation, fasting remained a recommended practice (maybe not for the ones experiencing famines - but for everyone else). I get that anorexics get a pass here for similar reasons. But I take issue with the general question that we can come up with penances that we deem superior to the general ones given by the Church - regardless of the persons in question.
I never implied that someone was implying that fasts ought to be trumped.
Catharina, I agree: it’s necessary to retain the traditional focus on *fasting* as the ordinary and normative thing, even — perhaps especially — when discussing special cases, when fasting, properly understood, is given such short shrift these days in the life of the Church, not to speak of the world at large.
Clara, I think the point we’re both struggling towards is that the danger of talking in this way is that it implicitly is giving personally-imposed penances pride of place over the Church’s traditions. And that was a pretty good imitation of spiritual instruction, even if you didn’t mean it to be such!
And I did say that using personal experience was necessary. And I am simply debating — I never said you couldn’t use experience or that it was impossible that such a “rule” could be suggested. I just think it’s not a helpful rule, and I tried to articulate why. Now, there are undoubtedly many individual instances when, in practice, your rule would be a good bit of advice! But I just don’t think that *all* — even most? — young women fall in that class. I’m very glad you counseled those whom you know to give that Rosary a try (the saying of which I too can find a penance!) as penance. But, you know, after they’ve said a daily Rosary for a couple of Lents, they really ought to think about going back to mortifying the flesh, too!
I think there are situations where fasting can be dangerous physically, mentally, spiritually, or some combination thereof. This is one of the reasons the Church has always encouraged that each person generally stick with one confessor who can get to know them and help guide them in their ascetical practices. The issue is that people don’t go to confession, never mind having a regular confessor or spiritual director. And our parishes are so large that it is virtually impossible for the parish priest to get to know everyone well enough to guide them properly.
The traditional (so considered because they are rooted in the Gospels and endorsed by our Lord) practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are those considered generally “safe” for all. Therefore, the Church prescribes these practices and sometimes requires them by law. Any other penances should not be undertaken without guidance from a confessor or spiritual director.
Fasting becomes a legitimate concern in the case of eating disorders. While someone who is not so afflicted has a moral obligation to fast on prescribed days and at other times, the situation is less clear when such diseases come into play. Is it wise for someone who may not have an eating disorder per se but who buys into the “hollywood model of the ideal” to fast? I think it depends on why? What is the primary motive? Is it to obey the law of the Church, to do Penance, or is it to live up to the ideal? I don’t mean to suggest that living up to the ideal is immoral but it does seem disorderd. It says a lot about where a person gets his/her values. So there is a need for catechesis and possibly the suggestion of an alternative deprivation.
Someone who has been diagnosed with an eating disorder should not fast without consulting a confessor or spiritual director. The Church’s law presumes a person is in good health. Someone with an eating disorder is not so blessed. For them to fast could actually be sinful in that it runs counter to proper medical treatment of the disorder and would cause harm to the person. They could fast from things other than food, what we traditionally call “giving up.” They should still do penance which involves deprivation.
Healthy people are to fast or deprive themselves of food. They ought also deprive themselves of other legitimate pleasures (deprivation of a vice is an obligation not a penance as Clara pointed out). No one is excused from prayer or almsgiving. Even those who have very little can give someting of their wont and everyone can pray.
As to labeling groups as Novus or Trad, this has long been an issue with me. It seems that in the labels is the implication that one is to be preferred over the other. This comes, I think, from a long standing battle between the two. However, in my opinion, both “sides” can be equally un-Catholic. I think one is either Catholic or one is not Catholic. Any deviation from that, whether to right or left, is a movement away from the authentic Church. Certainly there are people with different preferences for legitimate expressions of Catholicity; which form of the Roman Rite, for example. But there are Trads who are not Catholic and there are Novi who are very Catholic and vice versa. So, rather than being Trad or Novus, what we must strive for is to be authentically Catholic.
I think I may have finally figured out what Ambrosius and Catharina Senensis are worrying about — quite frankly, I’ve been scratching my head about it since Ambrosius first posted, because they’ve been continually implying, to use Ambrosius’ words, that I “give personally-imposed penances pride of place over the Church’s traditions.” I really couldn’t figure how I was doing that in any way. I’m all in favor of observing traditional fasts! And indeed, traditional fasting regulations are (at least for many people) a great way of combatting the very tendency that inspired the post — that is, the tendency to choose “penances” that in fact largely feed one’s vanity. The “fasting” regimens that I was discussing were all made up by laymen for themselves, so there was no question of “trumping” the Church’s traditions.
Anyway, as I say, I think I might have finally gotten it. Your reasoning is something like this:
1) The Church wants us to fast during Lent.
2) Fasting involves not eating.
3) By advising (certain) people not to give up food for Lent, I’m replacing the Church’s regulations with my own penances.
I think (2) was the assumption that I was missing. Except for people with definite reasons for eating (of which an eating disorder might certainly qualify), I certainly think abstaining from food (in accordance with traditional restrictions) on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday is important. But it didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t consider other voluntary deprivations to count as “fasting.” Just out of curiosity, how would you define ‘fasting’? Do you think that it needs to involve restrictions on the quantity of food eaten, or are restrictions of type enough to qualify? If the first, then the Orthodox don’t really ever fast (at least if I’ve understood their rules correctly), and almost none of the Novus Catholics I knew in college ever fasted either, except on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. Their restrictions were all type-based (no fats, no sugars, no carbs, whatever.) But once you expand your fasting to include the second, it seems natural to me to expand it also to include other sorts of pleasures.
For the Muslims (or the Mormons!) fasting just means not eating, plain and simple. Of course, Mormon fasts are always very short — nobody is asked to fast for 40 days under that definition! When I came into contact with Catholics, I was a little confused about why everybody was still eating when they claimed to be ‘fasting,’ but I came to understand that Catholics view ‘fasting’ in a broader sense, meaning something like ‘voluntary deprivation of natural goods.’ Food is sort of the most obvious and fundamental form, but it can be expanded, in the way that, say, the commandment ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ can be expanded to include violence, excessive anger, etc. Maybe we want to say that everybody should fast FROM FOOD at some times, and I would actually be fairly receptive to that claim, because I do think that bodily hunger has certain special effects on the soul that are difficult to simulate in any other way. And of course, since I became a Catholic, I have fasted from food during Lent — as I’ve said, my husband and I just follow the old regulations of fasting and partial abstinence on normal Lenten days.
However, my sense is that the broader interpretation of fasting is more in keeping with the Church’s pronouncements on the subject in the post-Vatican II era. Anyway, that was certainly how my Novus friends understood it. So I don’t think a person who chose to ‘fast’ by giving up something other than food for Lent could be said to be disregarding the Church’s laws.
Anyway, when it doubt the best thing to do would be to take Fr. Bailey’s advice, and get some help from a confessor or spiritual director. That’s not always as easy as we’d like it to be (as he said, there just aren’t enough clergy these days to give everyone adequate spiritual direction!) but if you’re worried about it you should try.
I have a Russian Orthodox colleague who fasted from all food and water for 24 hours once in accordance with some rule of that religion. He asked a Greek Orthodox colleague if he was observing the fast, and the Greek said no. So apparently on certain days the Orthodox have a quite rigorous fast.
Well, my Russian Orthodox brother says (at least, I’m pretty sure this is what he said) that all their fasts are type-based. Possibly there’s an exception for Good Friday or something, but I’m under the strong impression that most of their fasts involve abstaining from particular types of food.
From the Wikipedia article on Good Friday:
“Holy and Great Friday is observed as a strict fast, and adult Orthodox Christians are expected to abstain from all food and drink the entire day to the extent that their health permits. “On this Holy day neither a meal is offered nor do we eat on this day of the crucifixion. If someone is unable or has become very old [or is] unable to fast, he may be given bread and water after sunset. In this way we come to the holy commandment of the Holy Apostles not to eat on Great Friday.”[1]”
That, no doubt, is what my Russian Orthodox colleague was observing. And from here http://www.stjohnsroc.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=20&Itemid=9 :
“A total fast is expected to be kept on the Eve of Nativity, the Eve of Theophany (Epiphany), Great Friday and Holy Saturday for those who can do so.”
“Total” means no food, no water. For both Good Friday and Holy Saturday, that would be quite a tall order, hence the stipulation “for those who can do so.” Probably the Easterners think we are legalistic/rationalistic for making rules that already take into account human abilities, instead of making virtually impossible rules and expecting people simply to do what they can . . .
Huh. I don’t think his church does that… maybe there are different takes on it… but anyway, at most that would mean that the Orthodox fast only two days the whole year.
Anyway, you get my general point. It’s certainly not uncommon to take “fasting” to refer to something other than going hungry.
Benedict XVI writes:
“In fact there is no such thing as a Tridentine liturgy, and until 1965 the phrase would have meant nothing to anyone. The Council of Trent did not “make” a litrugy. Strictly speaking, there is no such thing, either, as the Missal of Pius V. The Missal which appeared in 1570 by order of Pius V differed only in tiny details from the first printed edition of the Roman Missal of about a hundred years earlier….Hence those who cling to the “Tridentine Missal” have a faulty view of the historical facts. Yet at the same time, the way in which the renewed Missal was presented is open to much criticism. We must say to the “Tridentines” that the Church’s liturgy is alive, like the Church herself, and is thus always involved in a process of maturing which exhibits greater and lesser changes. Four hundred years is far too young an age for the Catholic liturgy–because in fact it reaches right back to Christ and the apostles and has come down to us from that time in a single, constant process. The Missal can no more be mummified than the Church herslef. Yet, with all its advantages, the new Missal was published as if it were a book put together by professors, not a phase in a continual growth process. Such a thing has never happened before. It is absolutely contrary to the laws of liturgical growth, and it has resulted in the nonsensical notion that Trent and Pius V had “produced” a Missal four hundred years ago…. Lest there be any misunderstanding that as far as its content is concerned (apart from a few criticisms), I am very grateful for the new Missal….But I do regard it as unfortunate that we have been presented with the idea of a new book rather than with that of continuity within a single liturgical history” (85-87, The Feast of Faith).
The issue with “novus” as a descriptor for people is that it seems to imply a break with Church tradition, whereas something like “Traditionalist” (even if said sneeringly) implies a continuity with tradition. Those of us cradle Catholics born into post-Vatican II reformed liturgies are part of the continuity, even if we want to critique the way the liturgical reforms were handled (architecturally, musically, etc.).
By the way, I’m perfectly willing to critique the replacement of social penances (required of all Catholics) with individual penances. One of the reasons people struggle so much with their lenten resolutions is that they usually have to do them alone (and, a corollary, get competitive about them!). I remember at Notre Dame the debates about meat in the dining hall on Fridays. Every year some letter to the editor in the student newspaper would protest dining services’ removal of all meat on Fridays of Lent. First, they would point out that not every student at ND is Catholic. Second, they would say that you have to be faced with a “choice” in order to make not eating meat worthwhile.
The latter of these claims expresses the sort of American individualism choice emphasis. Traditionally, in Catholic cultures and Catholic subcultures, penances were a social thing (as they remain in Orthodox cultures). This doesn’t mean it was not a struggle or not unpleasant. But it does mean that it had a much more social aspect, relying on community identity rather than individual willpower. That to me seems a major issue. The decline of the virtue of penance in individuals is related to the decline of the social practice of penances. How do we deal with this in a pluralistic setting?
One last question for consideration - coming out of my current doctoral seminar on ecclesiology and globalization… might we consider a necessity of sometimes fasting from technology, espeically the Internet? What an ironic question for a blog, eh?
Sorry - one more p.s. I remember when you gave up sleeping in for Lent, Clara! If I recall correctly, it resulted in my involuntarily giving up sleeping in, too…as your philosophical debates began promptly at 7:30 a.m. in the apartment!
I’m sort of confused about what you’re saying, Theologian Mom. I read the quote from Pope Benedict as saying that the new missal was new in at least a significant sense. It didn’t grow gradually and organically out of the old in the same way that had always done in the past, and this is part of what has led to so many difficulties and so much confusion about the nature of liturgy.
Actually, what it says is that it was “presented as” something new. Presumably a lot of work would be done to flesh out the subtle differences between being new and being presented as new, but anyway it seems clear that there was a significant degree of liturgical discontinuity there, though obviously we must affirm that there wasn’t so much as to invalidate the Mass.
But anyway, the term ‘Novus Ordo’ was coined by Rome, not by, say, Marcel Lefebvre.
But I’m happy to consider an alternative nomenclature, as I’ve said. I just think it’s silly to insist that there should be no terms to describe devotees of these different Masses, when there are clearly differences in their liturgical practices, as well as significant cultural trends that can be identified with each. Of course it shouldn’t be about name calling but intelligent use of language suggests that there should be names. ‘Traditional’ is a sensible adjective to apply to those who love the Traditional Latin Mass (and note that I don’t call it the Tridentine, for precisely the reasons Pope Benedict mentioned) because tradition is one of the things that this group prizes most. (I actually tend to think that both their peculiar virtues and their characteristic vices stem from this powerful attachment to what is traditional.) If you think the name ‘Novus’ is unflattering to those who assist mainly at the Novus Ordo Mass, want to propose an alternative?
“If I recall correctly, it resulted in my involuntarily giving up sleeping in, too…as your philosophical debates began promptly at 7:30 a.m. in the apartment!”
Oops! Sorry… I guess I was trying to spread the penances around. :)
“One last question for consideration - coming out of my current doctoral seminar on ecclesiology and globalization… might we consider a necessity of sometimes fasting from technology, espeically the Internet? What an ironic question for a blog, eh?”
I’ve known people to do this. It doesn’t seem unreasonable. (In fact, a huffy guest once all but ordered us to shut our blog down as a Lenten penance!) As a blogger I somehow feel that I would be “shirking” if I stopped posting all through Lent… possibly evidence of vanity of my own.
Looks like we’re on the same page now, Clara! But you must understand why we misunderstood: your post was entitled a “Proposed Lenten Rule”, which you spelled out quite clearly: “no sacrificing food.”
I do define fasting as preeminently involving deprivation from food, either by type or quantity. Sure, you can broaden that spirit to include other natural goods, but it’s ever and always preeminently going to be about … food. There is less of a leap from no food, to no food of type x / less food on days y-z than there is from less food to … less sleep.
Well, I don’t think I quite said that. I mean, here’s the part where I spell it out (with new emphases added):
“But I preserve at least a little of the spirit of my old rule, in that I put no real restrictions on the type of food eaten at meals (except, obviously, for some limitations in the eating of flesh meat.) And although I wouldn’t want to interfere with any Lenten penances that seem to work for people, I would suggest that this might be a good precautionary measure to adopt, especially for young women, or anyone much inclined towards physical vanity. A general effort to eat plainer and simpler is fitting during Lent. But twenty-year-old girls should not be encouraged to observe the season by giving up sugar or fatty foods. Alcohol and meat might be acceptable sacrifices, especially since that rule is very clear-cut. It’s easy to distinguish between alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, or between meaty and vegetarian dishes. But giving up “junk food” or “sweets” or “fatty stuff” plays too much into a girl’s already-developed instincts to watch her thighs, and the complexes that follow are not congenial to the Lenten spirit.”
I thought it would be clear that the proposed “rule” was “no giving up specific types of food known to be fattening” or more generally “no turning your standard dieting plan into your Lenten resolution.” I mean, I did once observe a stronger form myself, but I explain that that was mostly reactionary and that I eventually discarded it.
Anyway, sorry for the confusion. Perhaps I waxed too anecdotal and obscured my own message. Glad we got everything straightened out.
No problem! I didn’t mean to be hard on you — I just got the (clearly false) impression that you were proposing a stricter ‘rule’ than you were in fact doing. My mind moves a bit less swiftly the week after we “spring forward”, so I didn’t follow the thread of your post quite as well as I might’ve another time. But, in any event, it’s nice to have it all cleared up now.
For the record, the Western understanding of fasting refers to the quantity of food, abstaining refers to the type of food.
Traditionally fasting is understood as referring to the deprivation of food and not the deprivation of other legitimate goods or pleasures. This comes from our Lord’s fast in the desert. It is only recently that the concept of fasting has been broadened to include other things. While I understand this, I don’t think it is a good way to use the word “fast.” It causes confusion and miscommunication. One fasts from food. One deprives one’s self of other things.
I would like to corroborate something Theologian Mom said and then disagree with her on another point.
As a convert myself, I’ve noticed that whereas fish-eating is not unpleasant at all for me (I rather like most kinds of fish), nevertheless on Fridays outside of Lent it’s good to practice the traditional abstinence of fish-eating because by so doing we help preserve whatever is left of “Catholic culture” in the United States and the preservation of Catholic culture is a good enough reason to continue the traditional practice. We must also remember that in some settings, choosing to eat meat on Fridays outside of Lent may cause scandal to some of our weaker (traditionalist) brethren, and in that case we should adhere to the pre-conciliar (and most historic) practice out of charity. However, because fish-eating for me is not that penitential, I try to bolster the traditional pracitice with something I once found very difficult: giving up all non-necessary electronics, music included (liturgical music in its liturgical setting excepted). Whereas I now surf the internet in Lent, I still adhere to my abstinence from music and the radio (which I particularly enjoy).
As regards nomenclature, instead of calling Catholics who consistently attend Mass in the vernacular “Novus” Catholics, let’s just call them “Nordites.” I find the term “Novus” sometimes confusing in a piece of writing, because it’s not immediately clear that it refers to a person.
While using a single term to describe a large group of people can lump very different sorts of people together (just think of all the different kinds of “democrats,” “republicans,” “Christians,” “protestants,” etc. there are), nevertheless Clara is most correct that these labels put us in touch with significant trends among those people so described. Therefore, we are justified in using such terms, provided that we remember that no particular group is monolithic.
Clara,
Mr. Hanlon has a commment for you over on Franciscus’ post about Catholic colleges.
Ps. O dear! Perhaps I’ve made matters worse, for by defining “Nordite” as “a Catholic who consistently attends Mass in the vernacular,” as I have left out an intellectually significant category: those Catholics who consistently attend the Novus Ordo in Latin. Can someone propose a neologism for that group of people?
Six year old telling on four year old: “Mom, Clare is eating sugar from the sugar bowl and it’s Lent!”