May 12, 2003
Senior Seminar
Professor Weddle
Christ, as the ultimate sacrifice in Christianity, gave his own life for the benefit of others. His self-sacrifice continues to this day to be celebrated in the Catholic Mass. Through communion, or receiving the Eucharist, one is able to actively partake of the fruits of that sacrifice. But how does one follow Jesus’ example? One surely cannot strive for the same kind of physical death that Jesus experienced. Thus, practice of another form of self-sacrifice becomes necessary.
To eat, to nourish one’s self is an act that is essential for human life. What could cause more pain in this life than to deny one’s self sustenance? The practice of fasting, as one form of self-denial, can serve to bring one closer to identifying with the sacrifice of Christ. This is especially evident when fasting is examined in relation to the Eucharist in the Catholic tradition.
But before we continue, a distinction must be made between two different types of self-denial. To fast, and to not eat do not constitute the same act. My own personal experience while exploring the topic of fasting has deeply colored my view of the practice of fasting. Many personal interests led me to pursue the question of fasting as a form of self-sacrifice. One was my personal engagement with and interest in the Roman Catholic tradition. Another, much more personal influence is my personal relationship with food. To stop eating is one of the (unhealthy ways) in which I personally deal with stress or depression. In reading Caroline Bynum’s book on the relationship medieval women mystics had with food I was able to identify on many levels. These women, in some cases, lived for years on the absolute bare minimum of food. Some were rumored to have lived on the Eucharist alone. Although Bynum struggles to avoid the association, many other scholars would consider these women to be suffering from what we now call anorexia. But I think an important distinction needs to be drawn between these women and modern day anorexics (as well as my own failure to eat when depressed,) and this distinction is related to the topic of sacrifice. Fasting must be approached with a specific religious intent, or no benefits can be reaped from it. Hubert and Mauss write, “Sacrifice is a religious act that can only be carried out in a religious atmosphere and by means of essentially religious agents.”1 Thus, if fasting is to be viewed as a form of self-sacrifice it must fit within the same criteria. And if fasting is approached with the appropriate religious goals, by a religious individual, I believe tremendous spiritual rewards can be gained, but there is no reward to simply not eating.
Thus, to understand how fasting functions in relation to the Eucharist within the context of the Catholic Church we must observe several different factors. First, we must look to the Bible and some early and important Church theologians. We must also address how common members of the Church related to fasting and the Eucharist throughout history. Related to this issue is how requirements for fasting within the Church have changed liturgically. Finally, it is also important to address the attitudes that modern Catholics have toward fasting and the Eucharist.
In order to understand fasting in the Christian context it is important to consider how the Bible treats the subject. Biblical references to fasting are surprisingly rare, especially within the New Testament. In many instances in the Old Testament, fasting is spoken of as a way to supplicate God. The Israelites resorted to the practice when attack by enemies seemed eminent and God’s protection was desired (Ezra 8:23). In other instances, fasting becomes simply an aspect of mourning (Psalms 35:11-14). It is also a way to repent of one’s sins and return to God (Joel 2:12-13). King David fasts while his firstborn son is ill, while pleading for God to allow the child to live (2 Samuel 12:16-23). In this instance, however, the fast is ineffective in swaying God’s will and is abandoned immediately after the child’s death. None of these examples, or other Old Testament instances of fasting, supports a view of fasting as an expiatory self-sacrifice.
Both the Old and New Testaments set out a further purpose for fasting: preparing for an encounter with God. The covenant between God and the people of Israel forged by Moses was prepared for in such a manner. “The Lord said to Moses: Write these words; in accordance with theses words I have made a covenant with you and with Israel. He was there with the Lord forty days and forty nights; he neither ate bread not drank water. And he wrote on tablets the words of the covenant, the ten commandments” (Exodus 34:27-28). We see reflections of this story both in New Testament accounts of Jesus, and in the practices of the Catholic Church. Matthew and Luke both record in their Gospels accounts of Jesus’ fasting immediately following his baptism. “Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished” (Matthew 4:2). This period of fasting prepared Jesus to begin his ministry in Galilee. Similarly, Easter is prepared for in Roman Catholic practice by the liturgical season of Lent which traditionally is a period of fasting forty days long. Fasting is also mentioned several times in the New Testament pairing it with prayer as a way to bring one’s self closer to God and to request his blessings. It is through the combination of prayer and fasting that one demonstrates dedication to God. Again, these references do little to establish a relationship between fasting and sacrifice. In order to recognize such a relationship we must look at the historical development of the practice of fasting and its relation to the Eucharist.
Fasting in the Late Middle Ages
Caroline Bynum, in her book Holy Feast and Holy Fast, provides an intriguing look into one period of Catholic history. Through her exploration of the two major rituals related to food in the Catholic tradition, being the Eucharist and fasting, she provides many interesting categories and tools for examining the relationship. Although she is working from within a very historically specific time period and looks only at a select number of women, it is possible to apply her ideas more generally.
For Bynum, food becomes the means for a humans most interactions with God, both through the denial of food and the acceptance of it. She writes,
Food symbolized many things to medieval Christians. But the most important Christian food practices were fasting and eucharist. Christians male and female paid their tribute to God’s power and acknowledged their own sinfulness by renouncing food. And Christians male and female received their God most intimately in that holy meal in which he became bread and wine.2
Fasting and the Eucharist are not only related in their context as food rituals however. Fasting functioned as “a recapitulation of as well as a preparation for the eucharistic sacrifice. By fasting, the Christians joined with Christ, who, in the garden and on the cross, kept the rule of abstinence that Adam had violated in paradise and became himself sacrificial food, propitiating God and saving sinners.”3 So through the fast Christians are able to become one with Christ and participate in his sacrifice, while through the Eucharist one is able to partake of the fruits of the sacrifice. For those who actively participate in both practices, they then become the sacrifice and sacrifier, the person who benefits from the sacrifice, to use Hubert and Mauss’ terminology. Fasting in this context was prescribed as a preparation for baptism and Holy Communion. The corporate fasts of the Church were established every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, as well as on Easter, during Lent and on other holy days throughout the liturgical calendar.
The role of the Eucharist in this time period is also important to note. In the Middle Ages the emphasis on the host shifted from communion to consecration.4 Receiving the host was not of as much importance as simply seeing it for many individuals. The consecrated host itself became an object of veneration, and as a result, “By the thirteenth century we find stories of people attending mass only for the moment of elevation, racing from church to church to see as many consecrations as possible, and shouting at the priest to hold the host up higher.”5 For those desiring to actually receive communion, many restrictions existed.
The priest celebrated with his back to the people, reciting the canon of the mass in an inaudible whisper, while the people engaged in all sorts of personal devotions (or daydreams) loosely connected with the ceremony. Communion was given before, after, or completely apart from mass. Monks and nuns might go to the high alter; layfolk usually received at the side alter, where the sacrament was sometimes placed beforehand. Women had been prohibited since the days of the early church from receiving in their bare hands. From the ninth century, women and laymen usually received directly on the tongue. By the eleventh century only priests could take God in their hands.6
These and other attitudes toward the Eucharist resulted in many Catholics only receiving communion once a year, fulfilling the requirement established in the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215.7 Many theologians of the day feared that if the Eucharist were taken too often, reverence for the elements of bread and wine might diminish as a result. Thus, they claimed that, “abstaining out of awe was equal to receiving with confidence and joy.”8 As a result of the increased reverence and devotion to the Eucharist, as well as the restrictions regarding contact with it resulted in a complicated attitude toward communion among pious individuals. As Bynum writes, “Many pious people in the latter Middle Ages developed, along with an frenzied hunger for the host, an intense fear of receiving it.”9
Bynum’s hypothesis is that the extremes of both food abstention and eucharistic piety can best be observed in the practices of many Medieval women saints. Those who were most devoted to the host were also those who practiced extreme forms of fasting. Many of the accounts of women mystics in her book indicate that the period of fasting engaged in by these women could last for years, and that they often refused any food besides the Eucharist. Bynum gives innumerable examples, but here are just a few.
Whether or not penitential asceticism in general characterized their lives, the women all fasted in order to prepare themselves for Christ’s body and blood. Several of them were incapable of eating ordinary food when they experienced the filling of Christ. Mary of Oignies vomited out an unconsecrated host and compulsively washed her mouth to rid herself of the taste. Ida of Leau repeatedly experienced fits or trances which she fought to control, because new legislation had been passed denying the cup to anyone suffering from frenzy. While out of her senses she could not swallow ordinary food even if it was placed on her tongue, and even while in her senses she felt no normal hunger on days when she had the eucharist. Margaret of Ypres could taste nothing but the eucharist during the last year of her life.10
Thus, in her book Bynum demonstrates the interconnectedness of fasting and the Eucharist in the lives of these and many other women. We shall return to her theory later and attempt to apply it more generally.
While Bynum emphasizes the attitude toward fasting in one historical period, observing the liturgical requirements regarding fasting and the Eucharist some valuable insight into the changing attitudes of the Catholic Church in its official capacity. What it means to fast has changed over time. In the early church to fast meant that one meal would be allowed in the course of the day, which was usually eaten in the evening after the recitation of Vespers. Over time, the breaking of the fast occurred earlier and earlier in the day. Buy the 9th century, it was common for the meal to be taken around three in the afternoon and by the13th century it was common for it to occur as early as noon.11 The amount of food and drink allowed was also modified. By the 13th century, it was acceptable for drink to be taken throughout the day and by the 16th century a small breakfast was approved of. The days on which fasting are required by the Church have also been lessened over time. Originally fasting was to occur on every Wednesday and Friday, as well as during Lent, the forty-day period between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday.12 Today, the requirements for fasting have been reduced significantly. After Vatican II, only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are considered binding fast days.13
In addition to changing requirements for fasting the practice of Communion has been altered over time. We have already noted the attitude toward receiving the Eucharist in the Late Middle Ages, thanks to Bynum’s presentation of the material. The most significant changes in this area also happened as a result of Vatican II. Priests no longer perform the Mass with their backs to the congregation. They face the community and perform the Mass in the vernacular language of the area rather than in Latin. The host itself can be placed in the hands of the individual receiving communion and it is much more likely for the wine to be shared with all of the communicants, rather than taken only by the priest.14 As a result of these changes, lay members of the community are given greater physical access to the host than had been available in the past. It also becomes available with greater frequency, for an individual can go to Mass and receive communion every day if it is available to them, while, as we have seen, in the past communion wasn’t always made readily available to all members of the community.
Ask most Catholics about Lent and they will talk about fasting, so let’s begin there. And, more precisely, let’s begin with fasting as a canonically sanctioned “diet,” or as a good opportunity to stop some bad habits. “I’m going to give up cigarettes for Lent,” is a common refrain. Very utilitarian, and very American, but not very Catholic. For we never fast from the dangerous, the harmful or the hurtful. If I tell you that I’m going to give up slapping the baby for Lent, you would be right to admonish me that I ought to stop hitting the baby. Period. Regardless of the liturgical season. I don’t fast from slapping the baby during Lent only to pick it up again when Easter arrives!16
Why have we lost sight of the value of this practice? My own suspicion is that it has not been taught at large and given respect as a viable spiritual discipline; this, naturally, has lessened its practice. What is even more perplexing to me is that even as we are beginning to learn more about different cultures and religions, we seem not to recognize the essential role of fasting in their practitioners’ lives. Paradoxically, as Christians fast less, we are meeting people who persist in this practice as an essential component of their devotions.17
But, I’m sure your asking yourself, what does all of this have to do with sacrifice? It relates to Bynum’s hypothesis that fasting and eucharistic devotion are somehow related. My addition to her hypothesis is the claim that both the practice of fasting and active contact with the Eucharist offer tangible ways for Catholics to interact with and participate in the sacrifice of Christ. Thus, the historical pattern of a decreasing emphasis on fasting and an increasing access to the host for Catholic laypeople changes the primary encounters that individuals have with sacrifice. In the Middle Ages, when Communion was more strictly regulated and associated primarily with the clergy, the practice of fasting was more prevalent among lay communities as a way to participate in the sacrificial elements of the Mass. As changes have occurred in the liturgical structure of the Mass, and have allowed for a freer distribution of the host, fasting is no longer emphasized. Fasting, as a form of self-sacrifice, is no longer necessary, making new interpretations and uses of fasting available to Catholic communities.
1 Hubert, Henri and Mauss, Marcel. Sacrifice: Its Nature and Function. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964. 19.
2 Bynum, Caroline Walker. Holy Feast and Holy Fast: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. 31.
3 Bynum, 35.
4 Bynum, 54
5 Bynum, 55
6 Bynum, 56
7 Bynum, 58
8 Bynum, 58
9 Bynum, 58
10 Bynum, 117
11 Clancy, P.M.J., Kennedy, G.T. and Lynch, J.E. “Fast and Abstinence.” New Catholic Encyclopedia. 2nd ed. 2003. 633.
12 Clancy, et al, 633
13 Clancy, et al, 635
14 Although this practice varies from parish to parish and priest to priest.
15 At the request of my friend, her name has been changed, in case her mother really does have spies everywhere.
16 Nussbaum, Melissa. “Your paper on fasting.” Email to Lorena Dremel. 03/06/2003
17 Dugan, Kathleen M. “Fasting For Life: The Place of Fasting in the Christian Tradition.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion. Vol. 63 Issue 3 (Fall 1995): 547
18 Repohl, Roger F. “Hungry Together.” Commonweal. Vol. 124 Issue 3 (02/14/1997): 9-10
19 Several articles including:
Orsy, Ladislas. “Holy Days of Obligation? Holidays of Celebration?” America. Vol. 166 Issue 2
(01/18/1992-01/25/1992): 28-29.
Rogers, Carole Garibaldi. “Why Catholics Fast: Searching for the Tradition.” America. Vol. 186 Issue 6
(02/25/2002): 6-10.
Sherry, Mary. “Fasting? But That’s So Mortifying.” America. Vol. 186 Issue 7 (03/04/2002): 21-22.