BUT WE’VE ALWAYS DONE IT THAT WAY

(AND ITS COROLLARY, WE’VE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE)

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
                                   Isaiah 43:19   

       Anyone who has ever been involved in church committees is familiar with the cry, “But we’ve always done it that way!”  Whether the topic is the order of service, the language of the prayers, the color of the carpet, or where the cups for coffee hour are stored, church folk are resistant to change.  Of course, this is not unique to church folk (try changing the menu for family holidays), but “the way things have always been” does seem to have a particularly strong pull in our places of worship. 

Dave Walker, Cartoon Church

Perhaps this should not be surprising, since – at least for many Christian traditions – worship is deeply tied with ritual, and when we come to our houses of worship, we want to feel welcome and secure and sure-footed, notwithstanding Anne Dillard’s excellent admonition that we should come prepared for anything, wearing crash helmets.[1]  Often we have treasured memories of walking down that carpet on our wedding day or with our newly-baptized infant; we remember how that one particular prayer got us through a difficult time and it comforts us to say it again every Sunday.[2]  In a rapidly changing world, we like to think that here, at least, we can rely on things to be as they have always been.  Introducing new practices is hard, can lead to conflict, and needs to be undertaken with care. 

            Introducing new ideas is even harder.  Introducing new ideas that ask people to change long-cherished practices is, perhaps, hardest of all.  For church leaders, balancing so many things and facing so many challenges (not least declining church membership), it might be too much to ask.  Even so:

Perhaps you’ve heard of the film Cowspiracy.  It takes environmentalists to task for failing to draw the connections between the meat and dairy industries and the dramatic environmental problems they cause or contribute to.  The website for the film explains, “Animal agriculture is the leading cause of deforestation, water consumption and pollution, is responsible for more greenhouse gases than the transportation industry, and is a primary driver of rainforest destruction, species extinction, habitat loss, topsoil erosion, ocean ‘dead zones,’ and virtually every other environmental ill. Yet it goes on, almost entirely unchallenged.”  The Humane Research Council (HRC) recently provided a short description of a study titled, “’We Don’t Tell People What To Do’: An Examination of the Factors Influencing NGOs to Campaign for Reduced Meat Consumption.”  The study asked why, notwithstanding the very strong evidence regarding the contributions of animal agriculture to climate change, non-governmental organizations (NGOs, usually nonprofit organizations) focused on addressing climate change do not highlight animal agriculture as a problem and urge their supporters to eat less meat.  As explained by HRC, “One US NGO staffer is quoted in the study as saying there is a ‘fear that you’ll get a negative public reaction to being told anything about your diet,’ while another is quoted saying ‘the main hesitancy of many groups, and probably including [ours], is that it’s a personal choice issue, and people like to eat meat.’”[3] 

Cowspiracy

So, we see that even organizations whose primary function is to educate people about the impact of their actions on the climate shy away from addressing the human activity with the greatest such impact (an activity that is, in fact, easily changeable for anyone so motivated) because of the fear of a negative reaction from people who do not want to be told what to eat. 

Sacred cows, indeed. 

So it is certainly understandable that we face an uphill battle in getting churches to recognize issues of animal welfare as something that needs our theological attention.  But it is a battle we must undertake, not just for the planet, and not even just for the animals, but for the spiritual health of our communities, as well.  Just as not speaking out against other grave societal injustices comes at a spiritual cost, so not speaking out against the unnecessary and wanton suffering of our fellow creatures comes at a spiritual cost.  We are called, as people of faith, to “cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”  Isaiah 1:16-17.  Isaiah tells us we must learn to recognize when old habits cause harm and we must learn new ways of being in the world that are based on compassion for the powerless and abused. 

Here is the radical new idea for today's churches that, properly understood, effects change in behavior based on compassion for the powerless and abused: animals matter, and they matter theologically.  As followers of Christ, we have an obligation to think about animals as coming within traditional Christian ideas of compassion, mercy, justice, oppression, evil, and good. This means we need to look again at our food choices, which affect far and away the greatest number of animals in the most horrific suffering, as well as at our choices regarding the animals we wear, those we use as test subjects, those we consider entertainment or pests, and more.  We must be alert to the many ways we encounter and impact the lives and well-being of the creatures at our mercy.  We must cease to do evil in those encounters and learn to do good.  As has been discussed in numerous posts in this blog, traditionally, the majority voice in the Christian church has said, in essence, that animals matter only to the extent they provide a benefit of some kind to humans.  Too many people in church still believe that our “dominion” over the animals is a license to do with them as we please.  

The Dodo, Staring Into The Eyes Of Pigs On Their Way To Slaughter

I don’t think there are many clergy who would still argue that as an appropriate theological interpretation.  I think there is a general consensus among scholars and clergy that “dominion” means something more like “stewardship,” imposing on us at least some minimal obligation of care for animal well-being.  What perhaps hasn’t happened is conveying that consensus to Christians in the congregation.  Perhaps that hasn’t happened because clergy have not made the connections between the theological consensus that we have some kind of obligation to animals and (a) the scientific consensus regarding the myriad ways animals suffer – physically, mentally, and emotionally (so that stewardship over animals means something different than stewardship over the environment),  (b) the numerous ways humans cause that suffering (so we need to look at more than habitat protection and cases of cruelty to cats and dogs), and (c) the ease with which changes could be made to reduce or end much of that suffering (so that there is something everyone can do to have an impact).

Raising issues of animal welfare can be extremely difficult in a congregation – or with oneself.  But it doesn’t have to be.  We don’t need to storm the pulpit demanding that everyone immediately adopt a vegan lifestyle.  As with all things of spiritual significance, we need to meet people (including ourselves) where they are and give them spiritual tools and information and encouragement to move as they feel called to move.  It’s about providing people with the theological framework and the facts of our interactions with animals.  We can start with small steps: 

•  We can include vegan options at all church meals as an act of hospitality. 
•  We can forgo church events like clam bakes, pig roasts, or games at the expense of animals, like this unfortunate case. 
•  We can refrain from sponsoring church activities that include hunting, rodeos, circuses, zoos, and other venues where animals are used as “entertainment,” or “sport.” 
•  We can include information about plant-based eating in tract racks, or pamphlets like this one from the Humane Society of the United States Faith Outreach Department, regarding compassion for animals as a theological concern.
•  We can include animal shelters and sanctuaries in our financial outreach or community support. 
•  We can offer to collect furs so that they can be used for wildlife rehabilitation. (Find a wildlife rehabilitation center here, or contact Coats for Cubs.)
•  We can explore challenging issues in-depth in adult formation classes and forums where there is an opportunity for an exchange of ideas and reference to resources, perhaps including this 27-minute video, also from the Humane Society of the United States Faith Outreach Department.    

Eating Mercifully

         No one is perfect when it comes to animal welfare, and I don’t think churches or anyone else should be dictating chapter and verse on how to live.  I do not blame church leaders from shying away from such a prospect.  I do think, though, that the failure of churches to let their congregants know that this is something they should be thinking about in the context of their Christian life and faith, and the failure of churches to provide education regarding the reality of the suffering we needlessly cause, is a significant theological failure.  
           Asking people to think in a new way about animals, and about some of their everyday actions is hard.  But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be done.  Annual discussions about tithing are not everyone's favorite, either.  But churches go to great lengths to educate their congregations about why it is important – not just to keep the lights in the church on, but to each of them, individually, as Christians.  When people do not tithe, we do not slam the door in their face, we accept what they feel they are able to give gratefully and continue the conversation with them.  
             Likewise, new ideas about animals that impact our daily choices may not be something most people in the pew want to hear.  Most of us don’t want to hear that we should change the way we have categorized animals in our personal theologies and we certainly don’t want to hear that we should change the way we behave.  But, just like tithing, exercising our responsibilities toward our fellow creatures is important, as a spiritual matter, and Christians need to learn about it.   There are no excuses theologically, scientifically, or otherwise for closing our eyes to the suffering we cause.  We need to begin the conversation, accept the changes that people feel ready make, and continue the conversation.   We need to allow God to do a new thing. 
          We all walk together, even to new places.  Sometimes we need to put on crash helmets.  

Buzzfeed, 12 Dogs Wearing Helmets

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[1] “On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions.… Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us to where we can never return.”  —Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters (New York: Harper & Row, 1982), pp. 40-41.

[2] Lest anyone think I am attempting to hold myself above this practice, I am still unhappy that the Episcopal Church appears to given up entirely on the Prayer of Humble Access, formerly part of one orders of worship in the Book of Common Prayer (p. 337).  I am very fond of this prayer, and often say it to myself during service because – that’s the way I learned the service and that’s the way I like it (I also think it has significant theological merit, although I do understand some of the objections to it).

[3] The study also asked why animal welfare and food organizations, which are not hesitant to try to influence food consumption habits, do not emphasize the connection more than they do.  The conclusion was that “they did not want to open themselves up the counter-argument that ‘sustainable’ small-scale farming was somehow a better or more feasible option.”