Over the course of history, hubristic humans have ascended, assumed, and aspired to a sort of god-status over the creation. This is rooted in a deep misunderstanding of dominion as domination or total control over the creation, rather than the deep care and responsibility inherent in the creation stories.
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The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it,
the world, and those who live in it; – Psalm 24:1
… you save humans and animals alike, O Lord. – Psalm 36:6
In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh… – Acts 2:17
that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to Godself… – 2
Corinthians 5:19
Does God, the Parent Hen who gathers their chicklings under their
wings, care about the wellbeing or suffering of animals? What does
Jesus, Lamb of God and Good Shepherd, have to offer for the billions
of animals who suffer and are slaughtered for an unsustainable food
production system? Does it pain God that colonizing humans are
destroying the good creation, a world that God loves and reconciles?
I want to explore these questions by considering the notion of
salvation beyond the category of the human to the earth to include
all life within it. By salvation, I mean the work of removing
barriers for creaturely flourishing and freedom.
The idea of extending our understanding and scope of salvation to
other-than-human animals and the earth is not as large of a leap as
it may first appear. In fact, sacred texts are rife with ancient
examples that suggest we share more in common with our animal kin
than we realize. While the earthling, haadam, is made in God’s image
and likeness in Genesis, this does not establish humans at the
pinnacle of God’s creation. Humans in these ancient creation stories
are called not to practice power over the creation, but are
commanded to tend to it, to offer care, and to use their means to
preserve the wellbeing of other animals and the world.
Consider the words of the psalmist, who considers God’s salvific
plan to include the other-than-human. Listen to Peter’s reiteration
of Joel’s prophetic vision that the Spirit will be poured out on
“all flesh,” that is, all life. Ponder the idea proposed in Paul’s
letter to the church at Corinth that God in Christ was reconciling
the world (kosmos, i.e., the world). When we take into account the
Scriptures’ expansive portrait of God’s salvation, we realize how
limited we have made it when we deem only humans as worthy to be
saved. And by doing so, we condemn other-than-human forms of life to
death. The word “salvation” also signifies safety and the
preservation of life. To perpetuate harm and even death, then, is
theological malpractice. A critical lens into how our faith has
shaped and shapes our relations to others reveals how what we think
about God and ourselves affects how we act in the world.
Over the course of history, hubristic humans have ascended, assumed,
and aspired to a sort of god-status over the creation. This is
rooted in a deep misunderstanding of dominion as domination or total
control over the creation, rather than the deep care and
responsibility inherent in the creation stories. And there are
scriptures that we can reference to make that argument as well. What
I want to point out, however, is that our special arrogance compels
us to commit acts that seem to be grandiose but are in truth not as
generative as the Creator’s. To be sure, colonizing humans’ work
largely has been marked by destruction, not creation: we have
brought about death for countless species and pushed ecosystems to
the brink of utter annihilation. For this reason, this geological
age of evolution is called the Anthropocene, viewed as the period
during which human activity has been the dominant—and
detrimental—influence on climate and the environment. Anthropocene
is what happens when humans play god. If we are gods, certainly we
are not good. As bell hooks writes, “When we love the earth, we are
able to love ourselves more fully.” Conversely, the opposite is also
true: if we destroy the earth, we destroy ourselves. Does God not
want to preserve and “save” the goodness of the creation?
In order to combat our propensity to destroy, I believe we must
first repent from our self-idolatry and reimagine our faith to
include other-than-human animals and the earth itself.
Ivone Gebara writes: “Patriarchal theology, and especially creation
theology, legitimized both oppression and domination of nature and
the existence of hierarchal relationships among all beings.” For
Gebara, anthropocentrism leads to androcentrism. Her work shows how
oppression is multifaceted and interconnected. For example, human
supremacy, fueled by rationalism and individualism, interprets the
world and what matters most based solely on our human experiences
and beliefs. By virtue of this way of constructing the world, the
human is placed at the center of relations and the top of the
hierarchy of being. The closer that someone is to the human, the
more likely we are to offer our care and compassion. It is why we
care for our pets. But this cuts in both directions. It is also why
we animalize others when they do not live up to our human standards,
constructs, or norms. Racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, etc., are
examples of how the category of the “human” wields power-over, power
that undergirds our unjust and unsustainable practices as well as
motivates unspeakable acts and atrocities we commit against one
another.
But this is not what God intends. Human-worship, or self-idolatry,
therefore, is “sin,” which simply means “to miss the mark.” (The
mark, here, is God’s intrinsic value, love, and concern that God has
for all of creation). In the Christian tradition, responding to sin
requires repentance. Repentance connotes a change, a turning-away
from one way of being and acting and a move in the opposite
direction. For many Christians, this act of repentance is a
prerequisite for salvation. But understandings of salvation are
often as problematic as are notions about the human’s place in
creation. Who is included or excluded from God’s salvific plan, and
what it means to be “saved,” are historical debates responsible for
schisms, fractures, and new movements within the tradition.
Ultimately, these are questions about what is at stake and by what
means God is involved in the history of our world.
To be honest, I am not interested in pie-in-the-sky narratives of
salvation. I do not seek to be saved from the fires of hell to a
heaven with streets of gold. Life is what I know, but what lies
beyond death is a mystery. I am more interested in the goings-on of
the world in the here and now, for example, the wildfires of
California and elsewhere that threaten our lives and the lives of
our animal kin. I am more concerned with the plight of peoples,
especially those affected by industrial farming and agriculture, the
suffering of other-than-human animals, and the ongoing destruction
of our world’s habitats and ecosystems. It is clear in the Lord’s
Prayer that the thrust of God’s kin-dom is downward. How can God’s
kin-dom exist “on earth” if there is no earth or life left on it?
The scriptures do tell us the rocks will cry out.
“But what about Jesus?” you ask. Good question. Episcopal priest and
horse enthusiast Carter Heyward writes that we must
“de-anthropocentrize” Jesus, that is “to show that humankind is not
the center of God’s realm any more than the earth is the center of
the universe… Christ is as much a pelican, an elephant, and a tree
as she is our brother from Nazareth.” How should we treat animals
when we realize that Christ is present in them? Heyward continues:
It is rather, for eco-liberation theologians, that the earth and all
creatures are embedded deeply in God and that God—in her christic
paradigm—reveals herself through all creatures great and small.
Christ is the pelican, the sparrow, the tree, and the water, just as
Christ is the subjugated human.
The point is not to deny that God, in Christ, was present in Jesus.
Rather, she suggests that God’s presence is not limited to Jesus.
Expanding our understanding of God’s presence with and in all
creatures, especially those who suffer, shakes loose the shackles of
individualism that sever our lives from others. The Christian church
in the West has largely missed and downplayed the collective nature
of sin by focusing on the purportedly autonomous human individual.
Of course, then, the collective nature of salvation also is too
narrow. What God has to say, and whether my understanding of
theology can address the exigencies and vicissitudes of these urgent
crises, is my ultimate concern. Any talk of salvation that does not
take into account these things falls well short of the wholeness,
safety, and flourishing that God desires for all of creation.
My work as a fellow with CreatureKind has taught me a valuable
lesson, mainly, that any approach to the work of animal welfare and
eco-theology should be done with humility. When we consider the harm
we humans have inflicted upon the earth, it should bring us to a
poignant reality: that we need to repent from our sinful ways and be
converted to a new reality that sees all of God’s creation as worthy
of salvation. This is what the kin-dom of God is like. The psalmist
writes: “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world,
and those who live in it.” Such beautiful, broad language invites us
to consider that the breadth of God’s salvation is all-encompassing
and more far-reaching than we may realize.
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the
difference.
Shea Watts (he/him/his) is a PhD candidate in Theology and Cultural Criticism at Chicago Theological Seminary. Shea, his spouse, and their three cats live in Charlotte, NC, where Shea works at Christ Episcopal Church as the Associate Director of Contemporary Worship and Liturgy. His project with CreatureKind reflects his belief that faith and food are inextricably entwined, and Christian practices should be informed and shaped by faith. He will be focusing on education at his local parish, raising awareness of the harms of factory farming in NC and constructing a theology of connectedness, creatureliness, and responsibility for the earth.