

by Gethin Russell-Jones
‘How much is that doggy in the window,
The one with the waggly tail?
How much is that doggy in the window?
I do hope that doggy's for sale.'
There are millions of them out there. Tens of millions of pets reside in the UK alone. No recent figures exist, but in 2001 the Petfood Manufacturers Association carried out a survey and estimated that there were around 7.5 million cats, 6.1 million dogs, 1.1 million rabbits, 0.9 million hamsters and 0.7 million guinea pigs in the UK. In addition, The Federation of British Herpetologists estimated that there were around five million snakes, lizards and other exotic creatures kept as pets. And that was back in 2001. Chances are the number of UK pets is now considerably greater than it was then.
Of course, sentiments differ in relation to our companion animals. It may be that this article finds you glowing with pride over your pooch, even purring with joy as you contemplate your puss. However, your experience of pets may be tainted, even polluted. Only today, quite possibly, you were about your business when disaster squelched upon you. Striding confidently along the highway of life, your best foot went forward into a pile of unwanted dog waste. Yuck. Not only was this deeply unpleasant, it also caused you to mutter imprecations against the entire canine order. But what are Christians meant to think about animals? Maybe, I should phrase it differently: is it of the slightest importance what Christians think about animals?
Well-meaning eccentrics?
At this point in the conversation, my mind wanders to the UK's favourite cleric, The Vicar of Dibley. As she battles to increase church attendance in a village sick with inbreeding, Rev. Geraldine chances upon the idea of a pet service. Mocked by every half-wit in the community, she keeps the faith and the Sabbath dawns on Dibley. Beautiful pastel sunlight kisses the old church, but inside the vicar's flock has taken on a new identity. Goats, dogs, cats, and donkeys are all in God's house, seemingly praising their creator.
The point being made is that Christians are well meaning eccentrics. Harmless, irrelevant, the object of gentle mockery.
Cue William Wilberforce. Universally known as the man who forced through the abolition of slavery, he also felt passionately about animal welfare. On 16 June, 1842, he helped set up the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in order to help enforce a new law to prevent the abuse of cattle, sheep and horses. Even though this endeavour wasn't mentioned in the recent film of Wilberforce's life, Amazing Grace, his contribution to animal welfare is enormous.
Central to Wilberforce's various campaigns was what he termed the ‘Reformation of Manners'. Like other Christians of his generation, he nurtured a vision of a human society imbued with Christian principles. Lord Shaftesbury strived to end child labour, Elizabeth Fry sought to reform prison conditions and Wilberforce dedicated his energies against slavery and animal cruelty. He took the view that civilised society requires a series of measurable benchmarks. As the condition of the most marginalised and vulnerable is safeguarded, so society itself is renewed and improved.
A Royal decree
Queen Victoria allowed the SPCA to use the word ‘Royal' in its title because she was so impressed with its work. And Wilberforce wasn't the only Christian involved in the establishment of the RSPCA. A London vicar, the Reverend Arthur Broome, called the meeting that led to the foundation of the Society. Its first minute book records the declaration that: ‘the proceedings of this Society are entirely based on the Christian Faith and on Christian Principles'. It is now the largest animal welfare organization in the world.
However, the church's interest in animal welfare didn't begin and end in the Victorian era. Professor Andrew Linzey holds the first ever chair in Ethics, Theology and Animal Welfare at the University of Oxford. Linzey is an Anglican priest as well as an academic. Speaking after the launch of Amazing Grace, Linzey said: ‘We tend to forget that the movement for a cruelty-free world owes much to luminaries like Wilberforce and Broome. They faced public ridicule and strong opposition in their work for animals, but they soldiered on. We best honour Wilberforce and his colleagues by following their example.'
Through the centuries of Christian thought, a few dominant themes have gained credence in relation to Christians and animals.
Dominion
This idea stems from Genesis 1:26, where God creates Adam and Eve as the pinnacle of his creation. He informs them that they have dominion over all the creatures that were made before them. This word has hugely influenced Christian thinkers. A school of thought emerged, arguing that the relationship between animals and humans is that of subordinates to superiors. The role of man is to dominate the created order, making it subject to mankind's divine right to rule. In modern terms, it has led to powerful church movements in the United States, asserting the right of Christians to invade all human institutions. Christians should drive out evil and establish Christian governments.
Partnership
This train of thought argues that God's plan for his creation includes animals as well as humans. That Christ's demonstration of God's love is shown universally to all his creatures. Saint Francis of Assisi is the most keenly associated with this idea, arguing passionately that animals, too, are fellow ministers of the good news of Jesus Christ. In one of his most famous sayings, he even preaches to the animals, reminding them of their need for gratitude.
‘My little sisters, the birds, much bounden are ye unto God, your Creator, and always in every place ought ye to praise Him, for that He hath given you liberty to fly about everywhere, and hath also given you double and triple rainment; moreover He preserved your seed in the ark of Noah, that your race might not perish out of the world; still more are ye beholden to Him for the element of the air which He hath appointed for you; beyond all this, ye sow not, neither do you reap; and God feedeth you, and giveth you the streams and fountains for your drink; the mountains and valleys for your refuge and the high trees whereon to make your nests; and because ye know not how to spin or sow, God clotheth you, you and your children; wherefore your Creator loveth you much, seeing that He hath bestowed on you so many benefits; and therefore, my little sisters, beware of the sin of ingratitude, and study always to give praises unto God.'
Saint Francis of Assisi, circa 1220
Renewal
In this generation, Oxford University's Professor Andrew Linzey is probably the most potent exponent of this school. Linzey presents a vision of a renewed cosmos, where all of God's creatures benefit from the supreme sacrifice at Calvary. Indeed, Linzey goes on to argue that the very nature of Christ's death now replaces any further need for animal sacrifice.
‘As humans are themselves renewed by the Spirit of Christ, so shall creation itself be renewed, indeed it will find a new freedom as God originally intended.
‘When we turn to the saints we find, almost without exception, a prefiguring of this lost world of cosmic peace. Again, we know so well the picturesque stories of St Francis preaching to the birds, St Giles' rescuing of the deer, or St Columba's saving of the crane that we simply overlook their theological significance. Many of the stories may appear sentimental, but none of them in fact are simply concerned with sentiment. Their purpose is deeply serious, and it is perhaps a sign of our lost innocence that we fail to see their cardinal relevance today.'1 How much is that doggy in the window?
That depends on your theology. Are you purchasing a dumb creature for your pleasure? Is this animal a fellow minister of God's grace and therefore not for sale? Will you one day witness the cosmic healing of a new heaven and a new earth in the presence of renewed humans and animals?
Whatever your opinion, you cannot afford to be without one.
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