By
Michael P. Foley
A
dozen years ago, Rev. Jim West published Drinking
With Luther and Calvin
to show how the
Reformers’ view of alcohol was far different from what came to
dominate in many American Protestant churches following the
Temperance Movement.
West’s book was a fitting sequel of sorts to Kenneth Gentry’s
2000 God Gave Wine:
What the Bible Says About Alcohol,
and it also set the stage for Brad Whittington’s 2013 What
Would Jesus Drink?
No
list of comparable publications exists within the Catholic world;
apparently, there is little doubt about Catholicism’s attitude
regarding the Drink. The Catechism of the Catholic Church does not
condemn fermented or distilled beverages, only their abuse by way of
excess (CCC 2290). Indeed, one of the Church’s seven sacraments
necessitates alcohol. The Eucharist is the body, blood, soul, and
divinity of Jesus Christ, but it must start out as bread and wine.
But
aside from this sacramental requirement and a few aging Irish
stereotypes, is there really a strong link between Catholicism and
alcohol, and if so, why? And what does that mean for us today? Such
are the questions animating this essay. We begin with a survey of the
historic impact that Catholicism has had on the production and
development of alcohol.
A
Wet History
Although
the purpose of the Catholic Church is to bring souls to Heaven, she
has also made life here on earth more pleasant in a number of ways.
Consider the following:
Wine
predates Christianity by centuries, but it was monks who largely
preserved viniculture during the Middle Ages. Religious orders such
as the Benedictines and (later) Jesuits became expert winemakers;
many only quit because their lands in Europe were confiscated by the
modern State in the name of secularization.
Pressed
by the duty to celebrate the Eucharist, Catholic missionaries brought
their knowledge of vine-growing with them to the New World. Wine
grapes were first introduced to California by Blessed Junipero Serra
and his Franciscan brethren, and the rebirth of the California wine
industry after Prohibition was thanks in large part to a chemistry
teacher and LaSalle Christian Brother named Brother Timothy. There
are similar stories about the origins of vineyards in Argentina and
Australia. The Jesuits,
for instance, founded the oldest winery in South Australia’s Clare
Valley when they purchased 100 acres of land in 1851 and planted a
vineyard to make sacramental wine. Named Sevenhill Cellars after the
seven hills of Rome, the operation is still supervised by a Jesuit
with the title of Winemaker and produces “notably sturdy Cabernet
Sauvignons of high colour, huge flavor and long life.”
Pious
men not only preserved and promulgated oenology; they also advanced
it. The méthode
champenoise was
invented by a Benedictine monk whose name now adorns one of the
world’s finest champagnes: Dom Pérignon. According to the story,
when he sampled his first batch, Perignon cried out to his fellow
monks: “Brothers, come quickly. I am drinking stars!” Monks and
priests even found new uses for the grape. The Jesuits, for instance,
are credited with improving the process for making grappa in Italy
and pisco in South America (both of which are grape brandies).
Similarly, although beer may have been invented by the ancient Egyptians, it was perfected by the medieval monasteries that gave us modern brewing as we know it: one saint (Arnold of Soissons) has even been credited with inventing the filtration process. To this day, the world’s finest beer is made within the cloister—specifically, within the cloister of a Trappist monastery. Other orders, such as Carmelites and the Paulaner monks, have contributed very fine beers as well.
Equally
impressive is the Catholic contribution to distilled spirits. Whiskey
was invented by Irish monks, who probably shared their knowledge with
the Scots during their missions. Chartreuse, the world’s most
magical liqueur, was perfected by Carthusian monks and is still made
by them. Bénédictine D.O.M. was invented by Dom Bernardo Vincelli
to “fortify and restore weary monks.” Frangelico, which today
comes in a brown bottle shaped like a monk, was invented by a hermit
of that name during his solitude by experimenting with various nuts,
herbs and berries he had gathered. Rompope, a kind of Mexican eggnog,
was invented by nuns in Mexico when it was still a Spanish colony.
Maraska liqueur was
invented by Dominican apothecaries in the early sixteenth century.
I wonder how cognizant people are about the
true state of things at this time. My guess is that they are not much
aware, or at least not all that much troubled by them. I’ve avoided
apocalyptic warnings to you for the good reason that they would be
false. Only God knows for sure when the travail of the final days will
be upon us. This does not mean, however, that there cannot be a time
great turmoil in the world–a time of disturbances which afflict the
entire societal body in the political, moral, and religious areas of
life–which is to say, in every aspect. 
which ought to serve our times as the equivalent of William Blanckstone's Commentaries on the Law of England for his time.
