DO ANIMALS SIN?           

“The Lord regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and his heart was deeply troubled.  So the Lord said, ‘I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race I have created – and with them the animals, the birds and creatures that move along the ground – for I regret that I have made them.

                                                                          ~  Genesis 6:6-7

            Throughout his book, On Animals, David Clough consistently challenges our common human understanding of “animals” as simple creatures, wholly separate from humans.  Instead, he develops a complex image of our fellow creatures, urging us to appreciate the wide range of creatures with whom we share this planet, the richness and complexity of their lives, and many ways humans and other animals are alike.  In addressing the doctrine of atonement, he continues to invite us to broaden our understanding of other animals’ places before God, asking, among other things, whether animals sin and whether they are in need of reconciliation with God.     

In his discussion of the doctrine of creation, Clough addressed the ways that other animals are similar to, and different from, humans. He urged us to recognize their individuality before God as different species and as specific individuals, and he reminded of God’s relationships with them.  He concluded that the purpose of other animals, just like humans, is to participate in the trinitarian fellowship and that we must make room for the idea that “every creature has a part in God’s creative and salvific purposes” (p. 23).  In his discussion of the doctrine of the incarnation, Clough continued the theme of expansive nature of God’s grace, reminding us that scripture teaches that the incarnation is an event of cosmic significance, and its implications are not limited to human beings.  Christ became flesh, the stuff of which all creatures, not just humans, are made. 

But what about atonement?  If animals are innocent creatures; what do they need to atone for?  “If Anselm is right that the motivation of the incarnation is a response to human sinfulness,” Clough suggests, “other creatures are merely bystanders” (p.104).   Clough sees three problems with this.  First, he is not convinced that humans are unique in sinfulness.  Second, taking into account scripture passages that tell us “all things” are reconciled in Christ (e.g., Col. 1:15-20), he is not convinced that humans are unique in their need for reconciliation. Third, he is troubled by the “very unattractive asymmetry and separation between Christmas, Easter, and Ascension” that would result from leaving animals out of Christ’s atoning work.  “Christmas and Ascension on this account seem to be for all creation; Easter just for one kind of creature that has been badly behaved” (p.105). 

As usual, Clough begins wrestling with these issues by turning to scripture.  He begins with a detailed discussion of the story of the flood in Genesis 6, in which God seeks to blot out the animals as well as humans, considering several interpretations of the story.  He concludes that this story is ambiguous regarding whether the animals may have sinned, provoking God’s wrath, or been corrupted by human sin, together with the “whole earth” (p. 108).  Looking beyond Genesis, Clough concludes that other passages of scripture seem to hold animals responsible for their behavior, such as the prohibition against going on to Mount Sinai in Genesis 9:13 extending to both humans and animals, and both humans and animals in Nineveh repenting in response to Jonah’s warning.[1]

Turning to the science of animal behavior, Clough recounts the upsetting story of a group of chimpanzees under observation by Jane Goodall.  One of the chimpanzees, Passion, killed and ate the infant of another chimpanzee – more than once. “How should we decide whether this sad story in the life of a chimpanzee group is an example of sin?” Clough asks (p. 113).   Unless we are willing to agree with Descartes that animals are mere machines, acting solely from instinct, we must agree that these actions include “some combination of free and forced choices” (p. 113).  Some degree of intent, coupled with some degree of instinctive or emotional behavior, was at play – just as in most cases of human murder.  Clough considers the argument that this was “natural” behavior and therefore not sinful, but dismisses that because this behavior was clearly not common, as Goodall’s description of the events made clear, as did the reactions of the other chimps in the group.  Nevertheless, infanticide is not unheard of among other chimps and some scientists have argued that it is a means of reproductive success for those who kill others’ infants.  But even if Passion’s actions were “natural,” we do not consider that as mitigating human sin, so it is unclear why seeking reproductive success would remove this kind of behavior from the realm of the sinful for other animals.

Clough then considers Psalm 78, which identifies sin as failing to keep God’s covenant and rebelling against God, as well as the New Testament word most commonly used for sin, which means missing the mark. In the New Testament, “[s]in is seen as a power under which people are universally bound and from which they need salvation through Jesus Christ” (p. 115).  Clough also considers other understandings of sin, including Augustine’s explanation of “disordered desire resulting from a privation of the good” (p. 115), sin as pride, and sin as a breakdown in right relationship, among others.  Some of these perspectives, he argues do seem applicable to animals.  For example, God covenants with the animals in Genesis 9, so covenant-breaking could apply to animals.  In scripture, “each creature has been given its place within God’s creation,” and behavior such as Passion’s could be seen as covenant-breaking in that it is “outside the bounds of creaturely flourishing” (p.116).  In addition, Clough continues, “the portrayal of humans living under the power of sin in the New Testament seems readily relevant to the situation of non-animals:  all creatures suffer from the violence that fills the earth in Genesis 6 (v.11) and Romans 8 pictures the liberation of all creation (v.21)” (p. 116).  On the other hand, it “is hard to conceive of other animals rebelling against God” as described in Psalm 78, and “missing the mark could be rendered in a way similar to not fulfilling the part in creation envisaged by God, but seems also to express failing to meet an intentional objective” (pp. 116-17).  Clough notes that not all understandings of sin are applicable to all human beings, either, such as infants or those with developmental disabilities. It is too restrictive, therefore, and fails to account for the complexity of the idea of sin, to say that if Passion’s actions were not deliberate, or that if she did not know what she was doing was wrong, her actions were not sinful.  We are born into a broken world, and our lives and decisions are shaped in many ways by that brokenness even before we are aware we are making decisions.  “Sin as applied to human actions therefore must encompass a messy complexity in which we recognize that our actions are both our own and influenced by forces that are beyond us.  There seems no good rationale for analyzing the actions of chimpanzees in a way that is discontinuous from this analysis” (p.118).  Like humans, Clough argues, animals are born into and bound by a broken world, and their actions are in some ways shaped by that brokenness, with or without their acceptance or intent or understanding.

Clough recognizes that this is a controversial idea, but even if we do not agree with his conclusions regarding animals as capable of sin, we can agree, he asserts, that animals suffer from the consequences of sin.  Therefore, they might still be said to be in need of reconciliation.  However, because suffering does not create an obstacle between God and creature the way behaving sinfully does, Clough argues that animals’ suffering from the results of sin requires redemption rather than reconciliation.

But, Clough sees another way animals may be in need of reconciliation.  Looking back to the Genesis texts, Clough points out that all the animals (including humans, it is worth noting) at the creation were vegan, eating only plants.  After the flood, at the same time humans were given permission to eat animals, animals were restricted only from killing humans, so presumably were likewise given permission to kill and eat other animals.  Nevertheless, when the prophets spoke of the new creation, they spoke of peace among all the animals, human and non-human (Isa. 2:4, 11:6-9, 65:25-6; Mic. 4:3).  The “foundational importance of peace to God is shown in that one of the names of the Messiah is the ‘Prince of Peace’ (Isa. 9:6)” (p. 120), in addition to several other texts.  Thus, the current “relationships of predation where the life of one creature is sustained only at the expense of the lives of others are not the original or final indications of God’s creative and redemptive will” (p. 121).  Just as humans are caught up in structural sin, animals are caught up in this dynamic of predation, which is contrary to God’s will, and are therefore in need of reconciliation. 

Here Clough runs up against the theory of evolution, which indicates animals were eating other animals long before humans had a chance to cause a “fall.”  Clough considers various theological views that dispense with the idea of a fallen creation, but finds none of them satisfactory.  Instead, he argues, “we must think about time in a way very different from the way it functions in evolutionary timelines” (p. 125).  Just as the work of the incarnation reconciles all things in Christ, past and present, stretching forward and looking back, so too, estrangement from God reaches across time, and the depth and extent of that estrangement is revealed to us through the work of the cross.  “The fall is therefore seen to be historical – it is in history that God’s creatures turn from God – but not in the sense that a single fateful decision is a temporal cause of all the sin that follows.  Human sin is what God’s grace in the death and resurrection of Christ primarily and most obviously reveals, but in lighting up the whole of creaturely history the ways in which the lives of other creatures have been distorted by sin is also made clear” (p. 125-26).

Clough recognizes that difficulties remain with this understanding, but finds it more satisfactory than many other explanations of the fall, sin, and suffering that have been offered, in particular those that suggest that suffering is part of God’s original intention or is necessary for the creation of the best possible world.  “For now we live in the time between the times in which we look back to God’s reconciling act in Christ and look forward to the new creation when harmony between creatures will be fully and finally established” (p. 127). 

Clough concludes this weighty chapter by noting that because Christ took on flesh in the incarnation, that is, the stuff of which creatures are made rather than just human nature, “then it is as a creature and as an animal that Jesus Christ is put to death on the cross . . . Christ’s death is not merely like an animal sacrifice – it is an animal sacrifice” (p. 128).  Because, as Christians, we believe that Christ’s death on the cross benefits those beyond the ancient Israelite community, we must answer the question how far reaching that work is.  Clough argues that, in view of the need for reconciliation that reaches beyond human beings, and in view of the scripture teachings that in Colossians and Ephesians regarding the cosmic significance of Christ’s work, to restrict Christ’s reconciling work to human beings would be “entirely improper.  For Israel . . . non-human animals were sacrificed for the sake of humans; in Christ, a human animal was sacrificed not for humans but for the sake of all creatures.”

This, for me, is the most challenging chapter in Clough’s book.  I struggle with his proposal regarding the capacity in animals to sin.  The example of Passion’s story is, however, stark and hard to write off.  Of course, not all animals have the capacities that chimps do, and arguably chimps are a bad example because they are so similar to humans and perhaps provide too narrow a window into the animal kingdom.  I think, though, that the example forces us to consider similar possibilities among other animals. Certainly chimps are not the only animals who will kill the offspring of others of their species.  As Clough consistently points out, when discussing animals we are discussing a wide range of creatures and each is different in its perspective and capabilities.  Passion’s story helps us to understand that it is not all sunshine and roses in all animal communities.  Clough requires us to look closely at why that might be so and to step outside our comfort zone. 

 What I appreciate about this proposal is that it requires us to take animals seriously as complete and complex individuals.  As animal lovers, many of us are inclined to see all animals as similar to children, which is, in many ways, to treat them as “less than,” even with the best of intentions.  But if we are to argue that animals have personalities, have the ability to make decisions, have complex social structures, have long memories, have the capacity for empathy, and other attributes, we need also to recognize that animals also have the capacity, for example, to make poor decisions or to choose not exercise empathy.  This is in no way to suggest (nor is Clough suggesting) that animals sin in the same way or to the same degree or with the same degree of culpability as humans.  It is simply to credit animals with the ability to make choices rather than acting purely from instinct.  To say that this opens up the possibility of sin may be only to say that there are consequences to those choices.

I also appreciate Clough’s discussion of the many ways of understanding sin.  It is tempting to limit sin to intentional and knowing wrong doing, but it is not that easy.  We do live in a broken world; we are impacted and shaped by that world long before we are making intentional choices between right and wrong, and we continue to be shaped by that world – bound by the power of sin – in ways we are not aware of as we grow into adulthood and old age.  With this perspective, it is possible to understand animals as being impacted in some ways by the same broken world and acting in ways that are contrary to God’s intention without requiring that they know the difference between good and evil or that they be in some way malicious. 

The clearest example of this is predation, as Clough discusses.  I completely agree that scripture tells us that the need to kill to survive is not God’s original or final intention.  But certainly that covers only a small number of animals.  It’s hard to understand, for example, how cows might need reconciliation, even in a broken world.  

And yet, even as I write this, I remember the story of Maya, a cow at Farm Sanctuary, discussed in Amy Hatkoff’s book, The Inner World of Farm Animals.  Maya is (or was, I do not know if Maya is still alive), a rescued dairy cow, who, like all dairy cows, for all her working years had all her calves taken from her at birth.  When she came to Farm Sanctuary, she “adopted” and cared for the calves that were there.  On one occasion, Farm Sanctuary President and Co-Founder, Gene Baur, came to take the calves so they could be placed in an adoptive home.  Hatkoff explains: “According to Baur, Maya was inconsolable, rolling on her back and wailing.  To this day, almost fifteen years later, she has not forgiven Gene and will not allow him to come anywhere near her.  If he tries to approach her, Maya will charge him.”[2]  While we can all certainly understand and empathize with Maya’s dismay and anger, perhaps her inability to forgive Baur is a result of the brokenness of the world for which Maya needs reconciliation.  But maybe not.  Maybe it is just an innocent animal suffering from the sin of humans.  I am unsettled on this question. 

Another question I have from Clough’s analysis, which he does not address, is this:  if part of the reason for considering the possibility of animal sin is that scripture tells us that Christ has come to reconcile “all things” to himself, so “all things” must need reconciling, where does that leave the inanimate parts of creation: the earth and the sky and the stars and the galaxies?  Are we to believe they have sinned, too?  Perhaps we might be able to say yes if we consider that sin is simply not existing as God intended.  Thanks to human beings, the earth is certainly not now as God created it (but doesn’t that bring us back to suffering as a result of human sin rather than sin as such?).  It is harder to pull space and other planets and galaxies into that analysis, however. 

But turning back to the here and now, what is clear is that animals suffer the consequences of human sin in countless ways, and are sorely in need of rescue from the power of human sin, whatever the state of their own sin or the sin of “all things” might be.  Clough takes that up in Part Three of his book, dealing with redemption. 

Photo credits:
Noah's Ark: Edward Hicks
Approach to Mount Sinai: David  Roberts
Chimpanzees: Caelio (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0]
Zebra: David Wye
Diary cow: public domain

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[1] Clough also includes a fascinating discussion of animals being criminally prosecuted in nearly 200 cases from the year 824 in Italy through 1906 in Switzerland. 

[2] Hatkoff, Amy.  The Inner World of Farm Animals. Stewart, Tabori & Chang: New York, 2009, p.83.