“People who can speak and can complain of their ills are greatly to be pitied, but those dumb creatures made by our King can only suffer in silence, and surely the alleviation of their sufferings will be required at our hands.” (Sts. Cosmas and Damian, twin physicians who healed without recompense) [270-303]
Can you share the sensitive nature of those glorious saints, the twin brothers Cosmas and Damian? It’s like having a double dose of empathy for the sufferings of all living things. We pray for them along with others in that category called unmercenary physicians. Like the famous St. Panteleimon, they were physicians who offered their services free of charge to all who had pains or discomfort. They served the ill and afflicted by applying their medical skills and medicines of the time to heal the way that Christ healed through miracles. We celebrate their charity and sensitivity to human beings—but can we go along with them to the concern for all living things that suffer without having the ability to explain in words what ails them?
Are you able to care about the animals as an extension, a logical conclusion to the unity with the world’s creatures that is expected from those who say that they are children by adoption of the Creator of all that lives? Can you love with Christ’s love all that has come into being? Or do you think that it’s expecting too much from Him? We are an odd kind of creature. Consider this: We Orthodox Christians fast half of the year. We don’t eat meat then, not even dairy products, partly to show that the ideal is to allow other creatures to survive. Monks do it more than the rest of us. Many choose to be vegetarians. Many other vegetarians—and they can be assorted by what they define as going veggie—make no-meat a way of life without reference to religion. Other Christians, “ustabe fasters,” no longer are. They’re taught that it’s not relevant to their faith. Others have a theology that insists all such rules like fasting and self-denial are merely pride, hubris, and are worse than irrelevant; they deprive the Lord Jesus of complete salvation of sinners by trying to help the cause by their own efforts.
But more serious at least on behalf of the animal kingdom was the Age of Enlightenment, the 18th century concept that whatever does not think doesn’t really exist. Blame it on the famous quotation that explains it all: Cogito, ergo sum: I exist because I can think; Rene Descartes. Those who really exist can understand that they do. We discover it also in the discussion we have with the Anabaptists, or more commonly called Baptists, who reject the infant baptism of Orthodox Christians, Roman Catholics and other traditional communions, even among the Protestants. They feel that infant baptism is worthless because the baby cannot understand what is going on. This is a matter of theology, serious enough; but the logic that leads to a catastrophe in such a definition is that it leaves out the entire animal kingdom as we know it—or at least as they understood it in that era. Are there rudiments of thought which cannot be translated by humans, such as shown by modern day research among gorillas, other primates, and certain sea animals? They communicate with one another; does that count? Even more uncertain and therefore horrible is the application of comprehension to human life prior to birth. Abortionists will not welcome the recent research that is proving that the unborn child they prefer to term fetus is capable of certain feelings even at several days of womb life. So we are polarized: Part of humanity celebrates the humane insights of the saints who could love all living things and promote their welfare, while what are called “humanists” consider it an advance in modern thought to ignore the feelings not only of animals, but even of the unborn and those at the other end of life who can no longer speak for themselves.