I AM CECIL

“If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who deal likewise with their fellow men.”

                                                               ~    St. Francis of Assisi

We have all heard a great deal about Cecil, the lion in Zimbabwe who was killed by an American dentist on safari.  Cecil was not just any lion; he was a lion being tracked by researchers inside a national park.  He was well known for his magnificent black mane and he was a favorite with locals and tourists.  Nor was this just any hunting expedition.  This was a guaranteed kill outing and it is reported that Cecil, who, popular as he was, had become accustomed to humans, was intentionally lured outside the protections of the park with an animal carcass so that he could be “legally” killed.  And it was not just any kill.  Cecil was shot with an arrow, which failed to kill him, and he suffered for upwards of 40 hours – nearly two days - before he was finally found and killed with a shotgun.  He was then skinned and decapitated so the American, who had paid more than $50,000 for the privilege, could have his trophy.

            There is so much about this to be outraged over – and many people and nations have been outraged.  There is now a proposal in the senate to ban the import of animal trophies not just to animals on the endangered species list, but to those proposed for listing as well.  Botswana has banned sport hunting and exporting of wild animals, including lions, from the country.  Several airlines are now refusing to carry trophy animals. This tragedy has, at least, put a spotlight on this terrible “sport” and some good will result.   

            But is this a Christian concern?  The secular world is moving on this.  Does the church need to do anything?  Absolutely.

WHAT THE POPE DIDN’T SAY

Clearly, the Bible has no place for a tyrannical anthropocentrism

unconcerned for other creatures.

            ~ Pope Francis, Laudato Si, #68

            There have been a great many articles and blog posts about the recent papal encyclical tackling environmental stewardship, Laudato Si (or Praise Be), from Pope Francis.  The animal welfare community has joined the chorus, touting the many statements supporting a Christian concern for animals as a dramatic step forward for animals.  Without wanting to rain on anyone’s parade, and while recognizing that there is much in the encyclical for those of us who care about animals as theological matter to be excited about, I was both surprised and disappointed by what the Pope did not say.  The encyclical gives us cause for hope as a theological community at the same time that it underscores how far was have to go and how much work there is yet to do. 

The Pope has underscored, strengthened, and perhaps expanded church teaching on human responsibility for the environment, including animals, and he has made a strong showing that human welfare and the welfare of the environment are closely intertwined.  In the process he made important statements regarding how Roman Catholics, at a minimum, should understand other living beings.  He has provided us with good, strong tools to use in building theological arguments about how we should treat the animals we encounter on a daily basis.  But he has not used those tools to make the arguments himself, and he has not provided guidance on how what he has said should impact our relationships with animals.

AND THE SECOND IS LIKE UNTO IT

Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.  This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.  On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

                                                                        ~  Matthew 22:36-40 (KJV)

But wishing to justify himself, he said to Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"

                                                           ~  Luke 10:29 (NAS)

            I don’t think it stirs much controversy to say that we cannot claim to love God if we do not love our neighbor, or to say that loving our neighbor does not mean that we have nice, warm feelings about that neighbor or even that we think highly of him or her; rather it is to say that we are willing to reach out to help when that person is in need or that – at the barest minimum – we refrain from treating him or her with cruelty.  It is to say that we have a responsibility for that person’s well-being. 

            Scripture, both the old and new testaments, makes clear that this is a central tenant of the Judeo-Christian faith.  Christ calls it the second great commandment, likens it to loving God, and says that on it (and on loving God) depend the rest of the scriptures.  Because we can’t really get around this requirement, since ancient times we have instead been trying to ease its burden by limiting the definition of “neighbor.” 

Jesus with the Pharisees - Gustav Dore

WE ARE PHARAOH AND PHARISEE

Almighty and everlasting God, who in the Paschal mystery has established the new covenant of reconciliation: Grant that all who have been reborn into the fellowship of Christ’s body may show forth in their lives what they profess by their faith; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

                                                 ~ Collect of the Day, Second Sunday of Easter,

                                        Book of Common Prayer, p. 172-73

            As Christians observe the Great Fifty Days of Easter, it is time to reflect on the work that Christ has done for us on the Cross, giving us new life, reconciling us with God, and showing us what it means to be created in the image of God and how power and status are rightly used.  It is an opportunity, too, to consider where we fit into Easter story and its antecedent, the Exodus story.  In both of these stories, God breaks into the history of the world to free those who are prisoners and to help those who are unable to help themselves. 

            I think most of us, if we imagine ourselves in the Exodus story, imagine we are among the Israelites, laboring and yearning for freedom.  When we hear the Easter story, and the gospel stories generally, we like to think of ourselves as among the disciples.  In both cases, we are among the chosen.  To be sure, both the Israelites and the disciples are flawed in their ability to hear what God is telling them and to do His will, and we identify with those shortcomings and struggles, but they are, nevertheless, the ones in relationship with God. 

But in many ways Christians today are more closely aligned with Pharaoh and the Pharisees.  We do not hear the cries of those we oppress; we believe we are entitled to oppress certain others because of our God-like status as bearers of God’s image; and we believe that our particular status before God means we do not need to be concerned with those not in our favored group.  Like Pharaoh and Pharisee, if we do not open our eyes, our ears, and our hearts, we will pay a price.

In the Exodus story, Moses seeks freedom for his people, but Pharaoh refuses.  Moses returns time and again, each time warning of a new plague if Pharaoh will not free the Hebrews. Pharaoh, however, hardens his heart and the plagues come, each one worse than the last. Pharaoh would not hear the cries of the Israelites, and he would not let them go, both because he benefitted from their misery and because he did not believe their misery mattered. He let greed, vanity, and pride rule his heart.  In the end, the entire nation of Egypt and Pharaoh himself suffered great devastation because of that greed, vanity, and pride, and Pharaoh learned he was not so powerful after all.

Tissot, Moses Speaks to Pharaoh

MEDICAL HIATUS

 

     I have managed to break my arm.  I slipped on the ice while walking my dog.  Alas, this reduces me to one-finger typing, so I don't think I'll be doing a lot of writing.  This may last several weeks, so I wanted to let you all know that I'm not likely to post much in the way of original essays while I'm in a cast.  I will try to post links to some interesting things when I can, however.  In the meantime, while this is a definitely an inconvenience, I am grateful it is not more serious.  I'll be back as soon as I am able!

Photo credit: Andrew Petro, Wikicommons, CC-BY-SA 2.0

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:

THE WHOLE LOGIC OF BEING CHRISTIAN
"Cruelty is the worst of heresies."
                                               Humphrey Primatt 

     I have tried to argue in several of my posts that the theology of animal welfare is not just something for animal lovers to be concerned about.  It is fundamental to our very creation in God's image, something Bruce Waltke has called "fundamental to . . . the entirety of scripture."[1]  Moreover, our relationships with animals are grounded in our understanding of the right use of power, a theme that runs throughout the Bible.  David Clough has called understanding these relationships "a vital theological task," and Matthew Scully has explained that these relationships have to do with "the whole logic of being Christian."  We cannot understand who we are as human beings in relationship to God if we do not understand who we are as human beings in relationship to the animals.  Whether we consider ourselves "animal people" or not, we cannot disregard our fellow creatures if we want to follow Christ

     With that in mind, I wanted to repost this essay from September 27, 2013, an early post in which I tackled one aspect of this theme. 

DOMINION AND POWER

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

~ Micah 6:8

The second half of Genesis 1:26 tells us that, coupled with creation in His image, God gave us dominion over the animals.  Bruce Birch explains, “God’s resolve to create in the divine image is coupled with a commissioning to have dominion. . . . It is as representative (image) of God that we are given capacity for power in the world.”[2]  Birch adds, “We are not absolute monarchs in the world but trustees or stewards acting in behalf of God’s sovereignty as Creator.”[3]  Moreover, because our authority over animals is a delegated power, it is not absolute; it is answerable to God, who ultimately rules over all.  This delegation of power over creation comes with an “implied moral norm [that measures] human actions by reference to their faithfulness in reflecting God’s will and ultimate rule.”[4]  Likewise, Christopher Wright explains, that exercise of power over creation “must reflect the character and values of God’s own kingship” and requires careful reflection on the character of God.[5]