Eat Less Meat: a New Ecological Imperative for Christian Ethics?

Eat Less Meat: A New Ecological Imperative for Christian Ethics?

David Grumett

University of Exeter

Awareness of the large contribution made bylivestock production to global warming is growing rapidly. In response, John Barclay has developed an important Pauline call for greatly reducing meat consumption. The case from scripture can be strengthened by attending to the rich history of weekly, seasonal and occasional meat abstention in secular Christian society, which was grounded in a collective literal reading of both Testaments and a desire to enter into the life of Christ. In monasteries, moreover, red meat was prohibited. In the present-day context, these traditions of lived biblical interpretation need to be recovered and rearticulated.

Keywords

ecology, food, global warming, meat, taboo

Consumption is, it seems, going out of fashion as an axiom of public policy. Accelerated global warming and deep worldwide cuts in public spending have led many to realize that humanity collectively has been living beyond itsecological means as well as its financial means. The mortgageeconomyof Western society, in which luxuries are enjoyed in thepresent but payment deferred for the future, has been shown to have run its course. There is new awareness that resources are finite.

The ultimate consumer good is quite possibly food. Food has, by definition, no purpose in human culture except being eaten. It can therefore serve tofocustheological consideration of consumption generally, bearing double relevance in this time of both ecological anxiety and general austerity. The food type around which there is currently greatest concern is meat. John Barclay has recently presented a cogent, biblically-based critique of the high levels of global livestock production based on the large contribution this makes to global warming.[1] Key statistics on which hedraws are increasingly well-known.[2]Livestock production generates a higher proportion of the world’s greenhouse gases (18%) than motor transport (13%). Livestock produce high proportions of the total global volume of noxious gases. These include35–40% of methane, which is 23 times more effective at trapping heat than carbon dioxide, and 64% ofnitrous oxide, which is 296 times more effective. 13 million hectares of forest are cleared annually to provide land for grazing or feedcrops, reducing global carbon storage capacity and destroying soil structure, which leads to desertification. Vast quantities of existing crops are fed to livestock rather than to malnourished humans, thereby perpetuating ecological decline.

John Barclay points to an ‘environmental and resulting social-economic crisis on a scale we have never seen before in recorded history’. In response to this crisis, he argues, abstention from meat is an ‘urgent and a necessary component of Christian ethics’.[3] He concludes:

It is now our Christian duty to reduce our meat consumption to an absolute minimum, if not zero, and we should have no hesitation in urging this self-denial on ourselves and on others, for the sake of the future of our planet and the lives of its most vulnerable inhabitants. Food should thus become, in at least this respect, a marker of Christian identity; anything less and we will fail in our obligation to embody and express God’s embrace of the world in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.[4]

The message is clear. Abstention from meat is, for the Christian, not only a personal ethical duty, but a precept of survival and justice to be proclaimed to all people.

How many readers have radically reformed their diet since perusing that article? Many would probably have been more receptive to a call to some other form of ecological responsibility such as reducing car use. This appeals to vague Christian notions of fostering stable local community and interacting with others whilejourneying on public or other shared transport. Exhortations to vegetarianism, in contrast, can cause discomfort. By challenging meat’s cultural domination, they subvert a whole system of economic, social,cultural and gender relations: the financial power of the meat industry; family dining around a common table with common food; the notion that meat is manly and its provision to men a natural ministry of devotion by women; views of meat-eating as normal and vegetarianism as an eccentric, faddish pose.[5]In challenging missionary times when churches and clergy are desperately trying to appeal to the unchurched and dechurched, this countercultural message might well seem a step too far, a distraction from the core Gospel message.

Part of the problem lies in a failure of theological imagination to envision sufficiently wide horizons. Biblical scholars, several of whom Barclay cites in his article, have demonstrated interest in meat and other aspects of diet for many years. Yet theologians have given scant serious attention to the topic, except in a few cases when critically assessing meat-eating as part of a concern for animals. Theologians should therefore view Barclay’s article as a challenge to engage a topic of urgent importance.

My own discussion will proceed as follows. I shall first offer a reading of scripture through the lens of Christian tradition that is intended to ground specific, concrete dietary disciplines, especially meat abstention. I shall then discuss briefly why these disciplines have declined, before offering a fuller assessment of the possibilities and limitations provided by both scripture and context for a new Christian dietary ethic of meat reduction.

Meat, Scripture and Tradition

John Barclay bases his scriptural case for reducing meat consumption on discussions of the law and Christian freedom (1 Cor. 6–10) and relations between the weak and the strong (Rom. 14–15).[6] This is not the place to repeat his insightful arguments. Rather, I wish to reflect historically on Christian dietary discipline in order to strengthen the case made from scripturethat dietary discipline can and should be core to Christian identity.

Many historical instances could be cited of Christians abstaining from meat either partially or completely—far more than most present-day Christians would expect. Barclay rightly identifies the ‘Catholic tradition of fish on Fridays, and the Orthodox abstention from meat during Lent’ as ‘partial precedents’ for abstention, though avers that what is now required is ‘clearly more extensive and more demanding’.[7] Yet both examples point to abstention that was indeedmore extensive and demanding. Fish, which was not regarded as flesh,was eaten in place of meat in medieval Christian societies not only on Fridays but on more than two hundred days of abstinence each year: the Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays of each week, the seasons of Lent and Advent and the vigils of various feasts and festivals. Even allowing for some double counting, well over half the days each year were meat-free.[8] In particular, Lenten meat abstention was as much a feature of Western Christendom as of Orthodoxy.

This pattern of abstinence was scripturally grounded. Via the weekly cycle, Christians entered into key events in the passion and death of Christ. Abstinence on Wednesdays commemorated the agreement made by Judas to betray Christ (Mt. 26.14-16, Mk 14.10-11, Lk. 22.3-6).Abstinence on Fridays brought to mind Christ’s trial and crucifixion (Mt. 27.1-56, Mk 15.1-41, Lk. 22.66-23.49, Jn 18.28-19.37), and on Saturdays his lying in the tomb (Mt. 27.57-66, Mk 15.42-7, Lk. 23.50-4, Jn 19.38-42).[9]Through the physical demands that abstinence imposed on Christian bodies, conditions were created in which Christians could enter more fully into the spiritual reality of Christ’s own suffering.

In the present day, Lenten abstinence is frequently related to the fast of Christ in the wilderness (Mt 4.2, Lk 4.2).This association has been strongly encouraged by the ancient collect for the First Sunday in Lent, addressing Christ ‘who did for our sake fast forty days and forty nights’. Yet historically, associations were drawn with a host of charismatic figures from both Testaments whose fasts they record: Moses (Ex. 34.28, Deut. 9.9, 9.18), Ahab (1 Kgs 21.27-9), David (1 Sam. 23.14, Ps. 63.1b), Hezekiah (2 Kgs 19.1), Anna (Lk. 2.36-8), John the Baptist (Mt. 3.4b, Mk 1.6), Paul (2 Cor. 11.27) and by no means least the people of Israel collectively (Ex. 16.3, 17.3, 1 Sam. 1.7-8, 14.24).[10] During Lent, Christians entered into and perpetuated a long biblical lineage of fasting, associating themselves with figures and narratives that prepared the way for Christ and served as types for Christ’s own fasting.

The other season ofabstinence was Advent. The period before Christmas, this was modelled on Lent although of shorter duration.[11]Although abstinence was not always required on every day of the week, Advent also had an important theological purpose: engendering an awareness of bodily lack and a sense of expectation for the coming of Christ in his human body to be celebrated at Christmas. Similarly, fasting on the day before important feasts and fasts fostered across a smaller timescale a sense of waiting forthe celebration to come. The celebrations commemorated important events and figures in scripture: episodes in the life of Mary (Lk. 1.26-38, 2.21-38), Christ’s Ascension (Lk. 24.50-1, Acts 1.1-11), the sending of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost (Acts 2.1-42),the birth of John the Baptist (Lk. 1.57-80) and Christ’s apostles (as enumerated in Lk. 6.14-16, Acts 1.26).

This complex pattern of weekly, seasonal and occasional abstinencewas a collective attempt to live scripture by ordering the essential and intimate activity of eating in accordance with scriptural precepts. The rules so fardescribed were the minimum required of ordinary secular Christians, both lay and clergy. A higher degree of abstinence was demanded of members of religious orders, however, with the Rule of Benedict restricting consumption of the flesh of four-footed animals to the sick, elderly and children.[12] The principal Western monastic rule was thus written and enforced on the assumption that healthy adults living the rigorous life of daily prayer, study and manual labour that the rule required did not need to eat meat.

Meat abstention was, like the whole of Benedict’s rule, related to scripture. Most obviously, the problematic status of land animals is a prominent themein the Pentateuch. Predatory land animals are classified as unclean (Lev. 11.4-7,29, Dt. 14.7-8), as is the flesh of dead animals and carrion (Ex. 22.31, Lev. 7.24, Dt. 14.21). Even clean animals must be slaughtered according to a method that allows their blood to be drained (Gen. 9.4-6, Lev. 17.13). Land animals, unlike birds or fish, share the earth with humans, and even more importantly share with them blood, the life force that, as recognized in the Noachide covenant, always remains Yahweh’s property (Gen. 9.4, Lev. 3.17, 17.10-14).[13]

In some monastic contexts, particularly Celtic Ireland, explicit and detailed use was made of the Mosaic dietary legislation that, in extent and rigour, went far beyond the requirements of the Jerusalem Council to abstain from idol meat and blood (Acts 15.20,29).[14]But even standardapplications of Benedict’s rulerecognize that meat is highly problematic. One response would have been to reinstitute a form of the Mosaic legislation to govern animal slaughter. But the inherently stable character of Benedictine communities meant that food could be obtained wholly from plant and vegetable sources. Unlike the ancient Israelites, monks and nuns did not lead a nomadic existence. Furthermore, their houses were often sited in locations surrounded by much fertile arable land where crops could be grown and close to a river where fish could be obtained.

What does medieval abstinence in both monastery and secular society teach us about abstinence today? Above all, it helps us begin to see what a non-consumerist social and ecological context might look like. To the consumerist mind, items are available for consumption unless specifically prohibited for good reason. But the matter could be viewed very differently.Many of the Mosaic food rulesare difficult to justify rationally.Thisshows that, in a different social and ecological context,a greater burden of justificationmight be placed on consumers to justify their consumption of particular foods, especially meat, than is normally expected in the context of consumerism. In ancient Israel, exclusions were not regarded as exceptions to a rule of general availability that required overpoweringly convincing justification. Rather, if the range of foods regarded as clean and consumable was sufficient to provide the population with the food they needed, there was no reason to extend the category of acceptable foods any wider.

The Decline of Social Abstinence

It might be assumed that, in the West, this complex system of obligatory meat abstention collapsed at the Reformation, but that would be quite wrong. As Lent approached each year, sovereigns from King Henry VIII onwards issued a formal proclamation that prohibited the consumption of red meat or poultry for the whole 46-day period (including the six Sundays), on pain of fine or imprisonment.[15]In addition to Fridays and Saturdays, Wednesdays were confirmed as meatless as late as 1563.[16] This points to a fundamental feature of historic dietary abstinence: it was not a matter of pious free choice, but a rule of church and state that citizens had no choice but to obey.

In Britain, it was notthe Reformers who dismantled this time-hallowed fasting pattern, but Puritans. In the mid-seventeenth century, the ‘Long’ Parliament swept away the complex medieval pattern of fasts, instigating in its place a single fast on the final Wednesday of each month. But in April 1649, following the execution of Charles I, the Parliament terminated this innovation on grounds of neglect.[17] For the first time in centuries, there existed in England no commonly-accepted or legally-enforceable rule of abstinence. Following the restoration of the monarchy, attempts were made to restore the traditional pattern of abstinence. The final Lenten fasting proclamationswere made in England in 1664 and Scotland in 1665. As Ronald Hutton laments: ‘Lent became a private matter, and so it remains, within an ever-diminishing proportion of the population. Abstinence has ceased to be regarded as a virtue in Britain.’[18]

Historic seasonal abstention made ecological sense, making a virtue of necessity by requiring abstinence from meat at a time when food was often naturally scarce. This scarcity was greatest in early spring, when slaughter of the last remaining animals would have depleted future stocks as well as animals used for ploughing, transportation and dairy production. Lenten fasting can thus be viewed as the sanctified acceptance by humans of the natural rhythms of the earth and the wisdom of nature. Moreover, the requirement to abstain from meat on three days each week established a general norm of alimentary self-control rather than of unrestrained consumption.

Scripture, Tradition and Context

I haveso far presented a richChristian dietary tradition founded on a primarily public and literal reading of scripture. Because so much of scripture is concerned directly with food, a renewed literal reading of scripture will, I believe,be fundamental to any credible Christian attempt to reform diet in the context of global warming and issues surrounding food production and consumption. The texts are there for all to read, but frequently overlooked by selective readers who cut and paste from scripture in order to service other moral issues weighing more heavily on their minds. Yet a literal reading of scripture has much to contribute to debates aroundfood issues.

Just one example is the outbreak of bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE) among British cattle herds during the 1980s because naturally herbivorous animals were fed on the remains of other animals in the form of rendered meat and bone meal. The result was the biggest pagan funeral pyres ever seen in the British Isles as millions of cattle carcasses were incinerated to prevent the disease spreading. Disease, in the form of (new) variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (vCJD), also spread to some humans who had consumed infected beef. All this contravened basic principles laid down in the Pentateuch: animals should not eat meat, animals that do eat meat are unclean, and such animals are unfit for human consumption.

BSE would almost certainly not have occurred had the Mosaic guidance been followed. But in the current context of global warming, the relations between scripture, tradition and context are more complex. This is well illustrated in the case of fish. In scripture, fish is not regarded as problematic, beyond warnings against shellfish (Lev. 11.9-12, Dt. 14.9-10).Indeed, in ancient Israel fish seems to have been enjoyed extensively,being obtained from several different sources: the Mediterranean and Red Seas, the Sea of Galilee, and the Jordan and other rivers.[19]Neither a literal scriptural perspective nor biblical archaeology therefore provide sufficient grounds for a fish prohibition.Moreover, fish has never been prohibited in Christian tradition. On the contrary, its use by monastic communities in preference to red meat and poultry,as well as in secular society during periods of abstinence,has made it a significant marker of Christian identity and landscape.[20]Fish cannot, therefore, be excluded from the Christian diet on grounds of tradition, even if a standard charge laid against wealthy monasteries was sinful extravagance in the varieties of fish they used in place of red meat and poultry. Yet there is increasing awareness of the problems generated by overfishing, fish farming and the transportation of refrigerated fish over long distances.[21]