Chesterton used to say, with his usual genius, that Catholicism is the religion of wine, beer, and meat, while Protestantism seems to prefer water, tea, and dry biscuits. He must have had some reason, though perhaps he fell short. Because the difference between Catholics and Protestants when facing the everyday pleasures of life—food, drink, and sex—is not merely gastronomic, but theological.
For the classical Protestant, spiritual heir to Luther and Calvin, suspicion toward pleasure is practically an obligation. The world and its delights seem to be a trap designed by the devil to distract from the straight path to salvation. Food must be frugal, drink moderate to the extreme of abstinence, and sex… well, if it has to be done, it will be with Germanic austerity, infrequent and with a certain Puritan guilt.
The Catholic, however, understands these realities in a radically different way. The world, created by God, is good, though fallen. Material things are divine gifts that must be enjoyed with gratitude and joy. Food is not just nutrition, it is celebration and communion; drink not only quenches, but also gladdens the heart, as the psalmist points out. And sex, within marriage, is not only permitted, but blessed, sacred, and yes, pleasurable without remorse.
That is why, in Catholic lands, patronal festivals flourish with abundant banquets, generous wines, and dances until dawn, while in Protestant lands—especially the Puritan ones—rigorous diets, strict schedules, and sermons warning about the sin of any excess flourish instead.
Curiously, this difference has historically led to somewhat paradoxical results. Catholics, accused for centuries of being decadent and lax, have shown a healthy resistance to repressive excess. Protestants, obsessed with Puritan virtue, have too often ended up in moralistic hypocrisy, hidden scandals, and a negative view of the body and its natural functions.
In short, in the face of somber Protestant Puritanism, Catholicism offers a joyful humanism that understands that holiness does not consist in avoiding joy, but in ordering it correctly. Neither debauchery nor pathological asceticism, but festive gratitude for the gifts of a God who created the world to be enjoyed with moderation, beauty, and joy.
After all, Christ inaugurated his ministry at a wedding, multiplying excellent wine in abundance. To the scandal of any Puritan.