Fifty years since Catholics had to eat fish on Fridays.
Many years ago, I, and other practising Roman Catholics, were forbidden by canon law from consuming the flesh of any warm- blooded animal on Fridays. It is one of my lasting memories from my childhood, a vivid memory that goes back well over a half a century.
The practice, which commemorated the day of the week on which Jesus Christ is said to have been crucified, was also reinforced by the imperturbable teachings of the church in the Catholic schools I attended. Catholic calendars, on which Fridays were superimposed with an illustration of a fish, also reminded followers of this obligation.
Nevertheless, this sacred responsibility created some rather strange situations in my family household in a working- class district of Montreal back in the day. My late mother, a baptized Protestant who was therefore not required to respect this now-dated ecclesiastic exigency, found herself oddly compelled to prepare a meatless meal for her husband and her children every Friday evening. It was a task she carried out rather stoically, as I recall.
To make matters more complicated, since I was not really much of a fish eater at the time, mother always had to cook me a cheese omelette ( surely an unsolicited chore if ever there ever was one). And, as she didn’t like labouring with grease in our modest flat, she regularly sent my older sister to the nearby Scotch Fish and Chips store, to buy the Friday evening grub for the rest of our devout family.
Despite the delicate humour found in this somewhat paradoxical situation, the ancient restriction re- garding the shunning of the consumption of meat on this particular weekday had its foundation in centuries of apostolic history. For many years, Catholic religious authorities emphatically taught that, since Christ sacrificed himself for us, we should make a small gesture to commemorate his ill-fated death. In this regard, the weekly avoidance of animal flesh seemed to many to be the most fitting practice.
In fact, in early times, Christians, who were under constant threat, cunningly identified themselves to one another through the representation of a fish. It is also said that six of the disciples of Christ were fishermen: Peter, James, John, Andrew, Philip and Simon. Pieced together, it only seemed logical that the default food of meatless Fridays would be fish. (Eating fish was also common in the celebration of many pagan holidays in the pre- Christian era.)
The story of Christianity is replete with mentions of fish. For instance, as is commonly known, the apostles were collectively referred to metaphorically through the imagery of fish. “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men,” Christ is believed to have told his disciples. Then, of course, there is the often- cited parable of the loaves and fishes, in which Christ feeds 5,000 of his followers with just five loaves of bread and two fish.
Much more recently, we know that McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish was the 1962 creation of an enterprising Cincinnatian, Lou Groen. Groen, whose restaurant franchise was located in a predominantly Catholic neighbourhood, had noticed that his sales of traditional burgers dropped off significantly on Fridays. His fish burger was a way of increasing sales at the end of the week. And, although his burger creation was an instant success, if Groen had waited a few more years, it might not have been necessary at all.
That very same year, the first session of the Second Vatican Council opened in Rome. The historic conclave that was conducted over four years had many objectives, one of which was to make the Roman Catholic Church more relevant in an increasingly secular world. Old ideas, such as Masses being conducted in Latin, were quickly cast aside, in favour of a new approach to liturgy. Other convictions were also put to the test, and many were found wanting. It soon became obvious that the restriction on eating meat on Fridays was near its end.
On Friday, Oct. 14, 1966, exactly a half a century ago, the National Association of Catholic Bishops announced, with the approval of the Vatican, that Roman Catholics could eat meat on Fridays, effective as of that date. One’s obligation life to practise penance and asceticism on that particular day still existed, but it no longer had to take the form of avoiding meat. With one fell swoop, centuries of church practice were ended.
And even though by that time I was old enough to make my own cheese omelettes, mother still looked mighty relieved.
I VIVIDLY REMEMBER A TIME WHEN WE WERE NOT ALLOWED TO EAT MEAT ON FRIDAYS. TRUMP’S PERSONAL HISTORY WAS NEVER PROPERLY INVESTIGATED — CLEARLY — EITHER BY THE PARTY, OR BY HIS OPPONENTS’ CAMPAIGNS. — DEN TANDT