WHALES ARE NOT TREES:

CREATION CARE AND ANIMALS, PART ONE

God intends our care of the creation to reflect our love for the Creator.
                                                       ~   Dr. John R. W. Stott  

In the last several decades a theological movement variously known as “creation care,” “green theology,” “ecotheology,” or similar terms has taken hold in the church.  Theologians writing from this perspective have done yeoman’s work, arguing for a re-imagining of our understanding of “dominion,” away from an idea of unfettered power and toward and idea of “stewardship,” that is, responsible care and management, of the earth and its resources.[1]  Several recent authors addressing this theme have argued that we are to look to Christ as the perfect image of God, which tells us beyond any dispute that “dominion” cannot be understood as power without responsibility.   This last argument may sound familiar to readers of this blog, as I have argued from this same perspective in developing my own arguments about our relationships with animals. 

The main focus of creation care, however, is environmental stewardship, and its proponents often fail to understand or address the distinction between animals as sentient individuals, and the earth, water, and sky, to which we also owe important and related, but differing, responsibilities.  

Photo credit: David Wye

 Creation care, then, is a helpful step away from the traditional understanding of humans as entitled to exploit creation for solely human benefit, but it is insufficient, as currently articulated, to bring us to terms with the cruelty inherent in our current societal relationship with animals and the ways we, as members of faith communities, support that cruelty.  To the good work of these creation care authors we must add an awareness of the theological significance of the suffering of other creatures and recognize our obligations to address that suffering as distinct from, but in concert with, obligations to preserve the non-sentient earth.[2] 

Before turning to the work of specific authors, however, I would like to make two observations.  First, it is very common for creation care writers to discuss our “dominion” over the earth.  In most translations of Genesis, however, dominion is granted only over the animals, and humans are charged with “subduing” the earth.  Genesis 1:26, is usually translated as granting dominion “over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.”[3]  Genesis 1:28 is consistent: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.”  I point this out not to diminish our obligations to care for the earth, but to highlight that scripture recognizes (here and elsewhere) that there are differences between animals and the rest of nature and they require of us different obligations.  Our creation in God’s image, our obligation to reflect the loving and merciful character of God, is linked expressly with our relationship with animals because animals, unlike trees and streams, depend not just on wise management, but on love, mercy, and compassion.  It is a fundamental distinction.   

Photo credit: David Wye

Second, while in most cases the objectives of caring for the earth and caring for the animals are compatible and sometimes even identical, in some cases they are not.  Concern for the environment considers preservation of species; concern for animals considers the welfare of individuals.  So, wise stewardship of resources may be content to permit hunting, for example, so long as the number of animals killed does not threaten the health of the population.  Compassionate stewardship of sentient individuals, however, will take a different view.  This distinction can sometimes lead to hard choices. 

With that background, I would like to consider the work of just a few authors working in creation care.  Each of these individuals does good work highlighting the scriptural basis for our obligations to care wisely for the planet we inhabit.  They also illustrate, however, the limitations of creation care focused solely on an environmental perspective.  While these authors and others like them provide an essential foundation to reinterpreting our role in creation, it is clear that there is more to be done. 

In this post, I will begin with Imaging God: Dominion As Stewardship, by Douglas John Hall.  Hall discusses “relations between human and extrahuman nature,” asking about the special role of humans in the “biosphere.”[4]  Hall argues that being created in the image of God means being created in the image of love, and that brings with it an “ontology of being-with.”  “We move toward real humanity, not when we have achieved all manner of personal success of brain, will, or body, but when through the media of brain, will, and body we have entered as unreservedly as possible into communion with ‘the other.’”[5]  This raises the question, who is the “other”?  Hall contends that the traditional answer to this question, that God is the “other” with whom we are called to be in communion, while not incorrect, is incomplete.  He points out that Jesus moves our focus from God alone as other to God and neighbor.  Hall then moves our attention to a “third dimension,” to “the inarticulate but ‘unsilent’ creation, the physical universe that is our home, the creatures whose ‘otherness’ is more conspicuous still than the otherness of those of our kind – in short, what we call nature.”[6]  Hall quotes Joseph Sittler, who wrote:

For the first time man has added to his natural curiosity and creativity a perverse aggressiveness whereby nature is absolutely suppliant before him in such a way that she lives by his sufferance and can die by his decision. . . . And this requires not only that Christian and Jewish morality shall be offended by pollution but that theology must do more: it must be reconceived, under the shock of filth, into fresh scope and profundity.[7]

Photo credit:  David Wye

This passage illustrates why we need to expand our vision of what it means to care for creation.  This may be the first time that “nature” has lived or died at the whim of humans, but for animals it has ever been thus, and the theological implications, though often unnoticed, have always been just as profound.  Moreover, in today’s world, with animals around the world in their billions living in unprecedented misery, treated not as living creatures, but as tools, economic units, or mere hindrances to human acquisitiveness, this, too requires that Christian and Jewish morality be offended and that our theology be reconceived “under the shock of filth, into fresh scope and profundity,” not just for the sake of the earth or for the sake of “nature,” not just to address pollution, but for the sake of those living, feeling creatures who suffer, the animals themselves.             

Photo credit: Michele Walter

           Hall makes important contributions to our understanding of the relatedness of humans to the rest of the creation, and our understanding of our obligations – instead of just our rights – that inhere in that relationship, but he fails to acknowledge the individual nature of animals and their capacity for suffering and happiness.  For example, he seems to consider “trees, rocks, and whales” all as one category of being.[8] 

             But to harpoon a whale is not the same thing as to cut down a tree.  The forest may be diminished by the loss of the tree, but neither the tree nor the forest suffers (in the sense of feeling pain or knowing loss), although the animals who formerly made the tree their habitat may.  When a whale is hunted, not only must we worry about “preservation of the species,” we must, as creatures in relation with the whale as God is in relation with us, be concerned about the fear the whale endures during the hunt, the thwarting of her will to live, the pain she feels when she is struck, and the loss endured by her pod, especially her offspring, if she is killed – or worse, her suffering if she is mortally wounded and left to linger and die slowly.  
           Thus, to Hall’s three dimensions of “being with:” being-with-God, being-with-the-human-counterpart, and being-with-nature[9], we must add a fourth: being-with-animals, so that we may see and respond to their suffering. 

            In the next few posts, I will consider the work of two or three more creation care authors and how their work can contribute to – or might detract from – a better understanding of our relationships with animals.  As we work with our fellow Christians to ensure responsible management of the earth’s limited resources, we must not lull ourselves into thinking that task alone will address our responsibilities to our fellow creatures. 

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[1] As I wrote in my last post, while I agree whole-heartedly with the objective of clarifying our understanding of what “dominion” means, I do not think we should stop using the word in understanding our relationships with animals in particular.  We have tremendous power, and I think we need to acknowledge that reality in order to truly comes to terms with the responsibilities of managing it.

[2] Often, creation care authors use the word “creatures” as nearly synonymous with “nature,” including not only animals, but other aspects of creation, as well, such as the moon, stars, trees, mountains, etc.; in short, all of creation.  When I use the word “creature” or “creatures,” I am referring to non-human animals.  

[3] It must be acknowledged that some translations, relying on the Masoretic text, use "over all the earth" instead of “over all the wild animals of the earth.” As far as I can tell, most translations rely on the Syriac text and include the phrase “the wild animals.”  Nevertheless, Genesis 1:28 supports the distinction between animals and the earth and the treatment of animals generally in scripture likewise supports a distinction between animals and "nature."

[4] Hall, Douglas John. Imaging God: Dominion As Stewardship. Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 1986, p. 53.

[5] Hall, p. 123.

[6] Hall pp. 123-24.

[7] Sittler, Joseph, “Ecological Commitment as Theological Responsibility,” pp. 177-78, quoted in Hall, 125. 

[8] Hall, p. 178.

[9] Hall, p. 127.