When We Turn Fish Fries Into Feasts, We Miss the Point of Lent

(photo: Image Credit: jeffreyw, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Do you eat fish on Fridays during Lent? I do. For me, it really is a fine tradition. Especially because during Lent it serves as a brilliant reminder of the life and teaching of Christ. Hardly can I even look at a fish, cooked or uncooked, Lent or Ordinary time, and not think about my Savior.

If you do eat fish during Lent, do you participate in the big fish fry meals? Perhaps you have a friend who hosts one annually, or you make it a point to make the annual pilgrimage to the different churches in your diocese that put on these meals.

Recently, I’ve given this idea of fish fries during Fridays of Lent a lot of thought and careful consideration. Why? Last week before Stations of the Cross I stopped by McDonalds for a quick dinner (don’t judge me). I had worked all day and was running errands all afternoon. I knew it would be several more hours before I would get to eat dinner. There’s nothing like shopping for food while you’re hungry; bad decisions always follow. I ended up eating three filet-o-fish sandwiches. Mmmm. Don’t judge!

Later on that night after Mass, during the Stations of the Cross, my heart skipped a beat. Not because of the grease (okay, maybe), but because I was deeply convicted. As I read aloud Everyone’s Way of the Cross, and how I am to willingly partake in the sufferings of Christ, I realized I really wasn’t trying to suffer at all if just a little time before I was stuffing my face with food.

While I have long held to my own personal conviction, I decided to see what the example of our saints would be and what I found was unpleasant: with almost unanimity, they wouldn’t support the idea of this sort of activity during Lent. In fact, I’d say that many of them would downright condemn the practice altogether. I’m not talking about fast food; I’m referring to the fish fries.

I had never given this much thought until I read the sharp words of St. Robert Bellarmine in his famous book The Art of Dying Well. In the book, Bellarmine provides a simple but systematic set of precepts necessary for a life that would end in the Beatific Vision, or as he puts it, “a happy death.” One of these precepts is the requirement of fasting. He draws from scripture to show how this is a requirement for all Christians.

“Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.” – Joel 2:12

“But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by men but by your Father who is in secret.” – Matthew 6:17-18

The saints also testify to the requirement of fasting. Augustine puts it this way:

“In the gospels and epistles, and in the whole of the New Testament, I see fasting is a precept. But on certain days we are not commanded to fast; and on what particular days we must, is not defined by our Lord or the Apostles.” – Epistle to Casulanus

After proving that fasting is necessary to the Christian life, Bellarmine discusses the proper means of fasting.

“The chief end of fasting is the mortification of the flesh, that the spirit will be strengthened. To this end, we must only use a spare and unsavory diet.” - The Art of Dying Well

Think about the purpose of a fast. The purpose of a fast is to tune out the things of this world and to tame the temptations of our flesh in order to be better prepared to have a one-on-one encounter with Jesus.

I’ve been to these fish fries, though, and without exception the event is a feast, not a fast. If that one “regular size” meal is actually far more than I would have in any usual circumstance, am I really fasting? There’s nothing mortifying about it.

However, let’s say I’m a good Catholic and I went all out on these Fridays and abstained as the Church directs me, perhaps beyond this requirement. If I were to eat a huge plate of pancakes the night before a fasting day in order to help my body cope with the lack of food intake, I’m only nullifying my mortification. Likewise, if at 12:01AM on Saturday I’m staring down a can of Chef Boyardee, am I really trying?

The heart of the question is: am I really seeking the means of pondering the sorrowful passion of Christ? The saints would give a unanimous “NO!”

If I act in this way, I might be within the rules of fasting, but not with the spirit of fasting.

Bellarmine put it this way:

“Now those do not certainly observe this, who, one their fasting days, eat as much in one meal, as they do on other days, at their dinner and supper together: and who, at that one meal, prepare so many dished of different fishes  and other things to please their palate, that it seems to be a dinner intended, not for weepers, but for a nuptial banquet that is to continue throughout most of the night! Those who fast [like this] do not certainly derive the least fruit from their fasting.” - The Art of Dying Well

There’s an article supporting these fries on the ground that they boost spiritual, financial, and social efforts during Lent. I think I’ve already provided enough support that these functions are in fact not the best means of spiritually observing the Lenten fast. They fed their patrons, but were they really fed, spiritually?

If they’re not fed spiritually, how could they ever get a boost socially? If it were any boost, it would be the Red Bull energy drink kind, not the kind of boost that comes with many weeks of bodily preparation and discipline.

Perhaps this is not a problem in your parish, but just last week Friday I attended a 5:30PM Mass which was to be followed by Stations of the Cross. The announcement was made, but once we were given the final blessing and the Mass was ended, about 1/10 of the Mass attendees were also present for Stations of the Cross, while in a neighboring parish the parking lot was full for the fish fry. Stations takes, what, fifteen minutes? Lent is a time of repentance, reflection, and personal growth.

“Let us appease the anger of an offended God, by fasting and weeping, as he admonishes us.” - St. Cyprian

“Fasting and sackcloth are the arms of penance, the help of sinners.” - St. Jerome

We might not actually wear “sackcloth and ash” daily, but we are called to “rend our hearts” and these enormous feasts, even if they are within the rules of the Lenten season, they are certainly not with the spirit of repentance. Socially, we’re called to seek our mortifications in secret, and in disguise.

How about the financial impact of the fish fry? The local study group raised a few thousand dollars, but at what cost? I can say with certainty that the Lent fish fries are a significant source of revenue for ladies guilds, Knights of Columbus, and other great organizations. But I wonder how far is too far? Is the Lenten season really the opportunity to turn the place into a market? These feasts might rake in the funding, but when it’s on a fast day it is only spiritually bankrupting Catholics. Really, is this an example of a moment Jesus would have turned over the money changing tables?

I realize, as I read the seriousness to which the saints took up fasting, that my own Friday disciplines need to be more sharpened, and that they wouldn’t be impressed with out Lenten fish fries.