“God said to them—have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves on the earth” (Genesis 1:28)
The man and woman were to be the Lord’s stewards on the earth. They were entrusted with the care over all that exists—an axiom acknowledged by nearly everybody. How is it then that we have done so poor a job of it? We are arbitrary in our appreciation for the welfare of creatures. Some are dear to us; others are little more than suppliers of our abundant and ever-increasing appetites. We westerners don’t eat dogs or cats. They are our pets. Yet they have a difficulty dealing with our human ambivalence. Cats simply ignore us. Dogs want to please us, but we often cannot deal with their consistency. I recall Brother Christopher at New Skete Monastery where German Shepherds are bred telling me that when owners return the dogs for discipline and training, it’s the masters who require fine-tuning. That some Orientals eat dogs and other cultures eat horse meat appalls us. We adore most newborn animals, but our affection often wanes when they mature.
That many animals are used for research in discovering cures for humanity is a ticklish issue, one that cannot be dealt with here, and which is not my present self-imposed task. Many already are aware of the arguments on both sides of the issue. Most research enhances human life, yet much does not. I feel that humanity is ever so gradually progressing towards a greater sensitivity to the other forms of life sharing our planet. What does it take to make the cut? How do some species reach the status where they are treated—for lack of a better word—humanely?
Dolphins are not only intelligent and useful to humanity in a variety of ways; for reasons known but to the Almighty they actually like us human beings, even though they don’t know what response they will derive for their affection.
If the criteria includes intelligence, chickens and other fowl have little chance of humane treatment; nevertheless, must we go on permitting abuse such as having their brief lives spent squatting on grates warehoused in low dim buildings, never knowing sunlight and the outdoors?
At the Christmas season a warhorse of entertainment is Peter Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Thanks to the composer and Marius Petipa, the famous choreographer of the original Russian ballet, swans have been given nearly human status. In the early nineteenth century, swan was a regular feature of European restaurants; after Swan Lake, that item was removed. Beautiful they are, evidently; but they are not friendly. They mate for life, but they have none of the self-sacrificial spirit of the killdeer, the patience of penguins, the courage of salmon, or the intelligence of parrots.
The unfortunately homely turkey has become a staple of our Thanksgiving holidays. Every dining table must have one. Here, however, may be a sign of things to come. In recent years our President as a symbolic act of mercy has selected one honorary turkey and rather than serving the bird at the White House table, he sanctimoniously spares the creature’s life.
So if beauty is the clue to acceptance of animals, we ought to pray that the Lord will inspire us to expand our appreciation of what is beautiful in the world around us. The famous phrase, “The world shall be saved by beauty,” is attributed to Dostoevsky. Like many such truisms, it is comprehensive enough to fit many understandings. My hope and prayer is that future generations will develop an appreciation of the beauty in all forms of life, or at least that the children of the future will cling to their innate impressionability and awareness of the feelings for all living things. Put another way, that they will expand into their adulthood the image of God they are born with, and acquire the likeness to Him promised in the beginning of creation.