Hunger for leadership.

Have you ever noticed how every single Catholic event you go to seems to be filled with snacks and meals? I recently attended two events in the last two days—one, a men’s night at my parish, had pizza and beer, and the other, a leadership talk at 6:30 in the morning put on by the St. John’s Institute, had a light breakfast of coffee, muffins, berries, yogurt, and salami meats.

In fact, I cannot recall the last time I attended a Catholic event outside of Mass that didn’t include at least some sort of sugary snacks, drinks, cookies, plattered meats, and cheeses. When Catholics gather, it is ubiquitous that there will be some sort of food or snacks available for guests.

It is no secret that the northwestern hemisphere can be considered to be in both a leadership and obesity crisis. Looking around the room this morning at our small band of dads and older single men seeking to have their ears filled with the good theology of the St. John’s Institute at the talk titled “Wake Up—It’s Time to Lead”, a title that would portray some sort of seriousness about the matter of the lack of leadership in families and in the societal West in general, I couldn't help but notice how every man there was just a bit pudgy. Not morbidly obese by any means, but a slight Midwestern pudge that would indicate that, typical of most Americans, their diet consisted of a variety of processed foods and sumptuous home cooking from grandma.

It struck me as oddly curious that all of these men who were seeking leadership advice on how to either fix their marriages, lead their families, or take on responsibilities in their communities and parishes had almost certainly never gone a day in their life without some sort of food, meal, or snack.

It would be easy to say with certainty that most people in the northwestern hemisphere, since coming out of their mother’s wombs, had at least one meal a day, every single day of their lives. This could be considered a modernity—our predecessors before us historically often suffered from food shortages, lack of food, and lack of nutritious food that could sustain their energy levels and even their very lives.

Everyone with eyes that could look at old photographs could interpret a story of energy, starvation, desperation, success, and triumph all from the skinny bodies of these people not even 100 years ago. It was not uncommon for people to starve to death on a regular basis. So it is quite a blessing that we all have a cornucopia of pleasurable options available even at the tips of our fat fingers or at the push of a button and the swipe of a plastic card.

Fasting and Leadership

So what do my base observations have to do with leadership at all? Do I level some sort of criticism at the undeniable fact that after Vatican II many of the fasting and abstinence requirements were lifted or changed for the days in Lent and major feast days? Why would I in the first place? Complaining that there is an abundance of whatever I wish! Even in my parish where we follow the pre-1962 calendar? Is it an act of gratefulness towards God?

It is an indubitable fact that God commands His followers to fast. In fact, in Scripture, the word fasting is mentioned over 70 times throughout the New Testament. Our Lord goes into the desert to fast and pray for 40 days. He levels against us that the only way to remove certain demons from one's life and body is to fast and pray (Matthew 17:21). He even goes so far as to say in Peter:

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.” (1 Peter 5:8)

Even in pagan mythologies, shamanism, and false religions, fasting is a common thing you see among heroes of knowledge, truth, or greatness. Demeter and Persephone observed fasting rituals as part of the Eleusinian Mysteries, a secret religious cult promising initiates a better afterlife. Plant medicinal healers make their patients fast and abstain from meat for at least two weeks before conducting healing ceremonies. Fasting, the voluntary restricting of food and diet, is something that has been with us from the beginning of this great human story.

We as Catholics have faced a lowering of expectations for a long time. In my last article, “Hostage to Mediocrity”, it isn't so much a comparison to my points in this article; they are separate analyses, but when I state that most of society has been married to lower expectations with its slothful consent, we must observe this as a truth of modernity.

I find it quite ironic that we are faced with such a great leadership crisis as we are now in the Church—Novus Ordo as well as Trad and other church families included—as we are a Church that simply does not fast anymore. Whether that be collectively or individually. Even at all the traditional events that I have been to, there is always an expectation that there will be eating and drinking of great quantities afterward.

Fasting and Masculinity

So why is it that I would believe we must take upon ourselves the yoke of the universal suffering that is starving? What purpose has our Lord given us for this suffering, and why is it not just something that we might think about as an improvement for our spiritual lives, but an absolute necessity in order to solve the current crisis of lack of masculinity we are faced with today?

This type of suffering inspires men to great action; it has forced wars and movements of people for the last two millennia. Almost all of the great leaders throughout history have faced some great food crisis at one point in their lives. Fasting is what quiets down the lower faculties, it brings silence to thought, enabling the practitioner to align their thoughts with the divine. To contemplate the things that are not of this world.

“Fasting is peace of the body, strength of minds, vigour of souls.” — Saint Gregory the Great

And when they say fasting, they do not mean skipping a light breakfast. They mean true fasting, not in-taking any food for 3 or 4 days or longer. Just take a look at the medieval fasting rules to get a better understanding of what St. Thomas Aquinas describes as the Lenten fast. A saint who is greatly revered among traditional intellectuals as one of the great saints to imitate.

Ash Wednesday and Good Friday were “black fasts.” This means no food at all.

Other days of Lent: no food until 3 p.m., the hour of Our Lord’s death. Water was allowed, and, as was the case for the time due to sanitary concerns, watered-down beer and wine. After the advent of tea and coffee, these beverages were permitted.

No animal meats or fats.

No eggs.

No dairy products (lacticinia)—that is, eggs, milk, cheese, cream, butter, etc.

Sundays were days of less liturgical discipline, but the fasting rules above remained.

Besides that, we know that many monks practiced just eating bread and drinking water for the entirety of their fasts. Even at modern-day traditional monasteries like the Benedictines at Clear Creek, great austerity and moderation are adhered to in strict observance.

Fasting isn’t something that is optional as a Catholic, especially if one is facing a relationship crisis within the family or community. Fasting is a necessity in order to be a man and a core tool to bring forth the answers that only come from within. In an absolute statement of reality, if we should be set apart from the world in following God’s law; we would be quite a bit trimmer on the outside. Observers would be able to immediately tell the difference from other religious groups.

Now, by no means am I against great meals. One of the fantastic truths of the Church and the Christian religion in general is its great feasts. It's beer and succulent foods made by parish old ladies that are something to jubilate in. It’s something that is identifiable as a part of the core identity of all Christians, but it’s beyond hypocritical to criticize the leadership crisis in the Church or give advice to men on how to be men if one does not fast with diligent prudence.

I would charge today’s Wake Up—It’s Time to Lead talk with one substantial criticism: You must fast often if you wish to lead. You must have this practice of self-denial mastered if you truly wish to gather spiritual truths and apply them to problems of modernity, fatherhood, business, or even the possibility of war. Our talk leader, who I will not mention by name, gave one statement that I found utterly superficial and neglectful of analyzing the problem at all: “Men must feel good about themselves before they can lead.” This is not true at all and is not proven by Scripture or history. In fact, I would say it's better if they were starving, tired, out of options, and on the brink of destruction and death. Then they can finally say that they must have recourse to God and action. The way forward is through the desert.  Jesus said to him: “No man, putting his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:62)