A Story of Renewal

By Lee Palumbo 

This is a story written and told by Lee Palumbo at CreatureKind’s LoveFeast service. You can view a live version of the story here. 

ROMANS 12:2 International Standard Version

“Do not be conformed to this world, but continuously be transformed by the renewing of your minds so that you may be able to determine what God's will is—what is proper, pleasing, and perfect”

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When my child Wren announced they were vegan I silently groaned. It seemed like just another rebellious act in a long line of rebellious acts that had left us reeling and exhausted over the puberty years. I politely listened to the stories and descriptions of farming practices, the baby animals, the overwhelming numbers, and mostly filed them in my brain as “too hard to think about.” Sometimes their eyes would well up and tears flowed down their cheeks simply because we were eating cheese. It seemed disproportionate at the time, and I remember dismissing their feelings as an overreaction.

Dismissing their reality.

Dismissing their insight.

Gaslighting is often experienced by vegans. It is not always consciously intentional; it is done to defend another’s reality. But it hurts those on the receiving end and can lead to deep anxiety. It is experienced as silence, eyerolls, jokes about bacon and dying of protein deficiency, and the typecasting of vegans as militant, extreme, and humourless. Gaslighting is nuanced and passive aggressive, and it is often an attempt to bring the other into order.

I deeply regret the dismissive comments I made at that time. But their persistence worked, and so did watching the movie Dominion. We watched it together as a family, and finally two years after the first conversation, the whole family went vegan. While the change seemed to happen overnight, it was — just like any conversion —  actually a long journey,  and my faithful child was there preaching all the way. 

Cheese and the whole dairy industry then became the epitome to us of everything that is exploitative and wrong about current food and farming systems in developed countries. Stealing calves and stealing milk on stolen land. I was starting to see that the whole picture of colonial exploitation sat juxtaposed to the history and practices of first nations people, which involve collaborative and integrated approaches to living with animals and the land. A renewal of our minds about food had begun, and the connections to a theology of caring for the planet and everything on it became apparent.

At first it was hard work. Our minds were stuck in an old system of food. But over time we explored the bigger picture and the thousands of different recipes that have been developed by people all over the world who use veg as their default. Now, we eat a bigger variety of foods than ever before. My spice cupboard is a chef’s dream.

Wren’s every day is a living sacrifice — saving  half-dead lambs from the winter frost, picking up abandoned old sheep no longer able to walk, re-homing injured hens discarded by the chicken farm, and the list goes on. Most of the little money Wren has goes towards their upkeep and vet bills. I’m so grateful and proud of their nonconformity and abandonment of external pressures on who they are and the life they have chosen. I am passionate about changing our trajectory on this planet, and sparing farmed animals is a huge part of that. I feel a clear direction given by our Creator, so I do it because I feel a desire to align with God's will for my life. Yet, all around me are activists doing way more than I am, just because it’s the right thing to do for the common good, often unaware of the Creator who loves them. I am humbled by their dedication, love, and commitment. Their lives are shaped by their ethics, and to a degree, by vegan culture. Our lives as followers of Jesus need to be shaped by the “Kingdom come, His will be done,” or it will be shaped by the culture instead.

Last year I was lucky enough to be one of the fellows in the CreatureKind Fellowship Program. One of the reasons I applied was to deepen my understanding of my new vegan life from a biblical and theological perspective. I wanted it to refine my thinking. We learnt so much, but what struck me the most was how limited my understanding was at the beginning, due to my worldview. I am an immigrant from a colonial background, my worldview shaped by my European middle class-ness. My food choices had been shaped by this, too. The fellowship helped to renew my thinking, embrace a wider perspective, and look at the cross section of social injustices that are interwoven into our current food system. It's bigger than I ever imagined. It left me with a heart on fire for action.

You know we are called for times like this.

Esther 4:14 CEV

“If you don’t speak up now, we will somehow get help, but you and your family will be killed. It could be that you were made queen for a time like this!”

How scary it is to speak out against the popular narrative of the day, and those of you who have been vegan for a long time will know all about this. Social media death is guaranteed when you speak out against animal farming. Just try it. But even in the middle of a global pandemic, with a global rise in nationalism, racism, temperatures — a  time of increased poverty and a tsunami of mental health issues coming — you need to speak. For evil to continue we only need to do one thing — nothing. Esther and Wren both found their purpose outside of the safe zone of cultural expectations.

So what can we do? Well, you can continue to live your everyday life, capturing the smallest details of it, and place it before God as an offering. Your food, your thoughts, your dreams and imaginings. From your cup of Fair Trade coffee in the morning to your Vietnamese tofu burgers in the evening, and thank God for every bit of it. Be grateful you are called out of certain cultural norms, your heritage that binds, your family traditions steeped in a bygone era. You are called to a life that sees the Creator in the simplicity of the everyday, and yet, called to change the world through your every breath, your every prayer, and your every action. You are the people of the restoration, a new world coming, and that can only be seen in the everyday. Be shaped by the kingdom, on earth as it is in heaven, or you will be shaped by cultural norms. Stand in that space, protected, empowered, and fed by the Creator God.

We will fail in all of this, too, and we will need grace every day. But be assured that the Creator brings out the best in you, and that is something you can rely on  in this volatile world in which we live. God’s will be done. God's perfect, proper, and pleasing will, forever and ever, amen.

Not “Either/Or,” but “And”

by CreatureKind Fellow, Estela Torres 

I was raised in a conservative Catholic environment in Monterrey, Mexico.

I felt a deep love for animals from a very young age and was very sensitive to their suffering. Perhaps it was my mother’s stories about her childhood dog, Bobby, that made an impression on me. My mother described Bobby as  an intelligent and sensitive being. In fact, my childhood was full of encounters with singular animals, individuals. These encounters were personal and felt far from the impersonal, inferior images of animal species that my church presented to me.

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During all these years, I had a hard time understanding people’s indifference towards animals. Stray dogs, whom I saw almost every day in the streets of my native city of Monterrey, were not seen as beings in need of help and compassion. They were ignored as if they were invisible, as if humans did not have any duties towards them. I also have a sad memory of a Catholic school fair where there was a stand called Noah’s Ark. You could win live animals, including chicks and rabbits. I remember children playing with the chicks as if they were balls, throwing them in the air and letting them crash to the ground. I suffered in silence for them. No one seemed to care. No adult was there to tell them to stop or to teach them compassion for living sentient beings.

In high school, I found a book in the library about animal rights, and that’s when it all started for me. I learned that some people cared and were concerned about animals. Soon, all my writing in school was about this topic. At that time, I had a very good friend who was an example of kindness to me. She was a very devout Catholic like her whole family. She was like a role model for me, but her heart and compassion stopped at humans. She even defended bullfighting. What was so confusing was that her arguments were religious. 

My love for animals also had to do with God. I prayed for animals, really believing that God cared for them. Nevertheless, I started doubting my beliefs because my church never mentioned animals. Animals were absent in a human-only vision of the world. Moreover, I began to realize that my church thought animals had been placed in an inferior category, which meant we should even keep our distance. Since then, I have carried this question about animals and my faith:

How can my religion, which preaches compassion and kindness, not extend that compassion to animals?

When I moved to Lyon, France, I started taking theology courses at a Catholic university. I did not get a positive response to my question. On the contrary, it seemed “funny” that someone was interested in animals. Some professors or priests said, “our priority is human beings.” In the soteriology course, I was told that salvation was only for human beings. In a class on Genesis, the professor angrily claimed that God had not made a covenant with animals. I tried to give a talk on animals once in my Dominican lay group and again, the reactions were of resistance. Everywhere I tried to talk about Christianity and animals, I got this kind of automatic response: “Yes, but man is the only being that....” “Yes, but man is the only being capable of...,”  and “Animals lack or are not capable of…” 

I realized that there was something different about how animals were viewed because none of the arguments I was given justified the horrible treatment humans give to animals. I felt very strongly that regardless of whether non-human animals were different or even if they were “inferior” or “irrational” as I was told, nothing gave humans the right to use or kill them. Or, another way of saying this: my fellow Christians did not see the animals. They merely thought about them. Their arguments served as a veil for not looking at the animals.

Another common response and one I wished to explore was the idea that I should prioritize human suffering over animal suffering. I have heard this type of phrase many times while advocating for animals in a Christian context. I never understood the logic. I usually responded, “Why not both?” It seemed to me that this assumption—that we ought to deal with human misery first and then think about the animals—was used to maintain a hierarchy between humans and animals, a manufactured competition. The urge to place human beings as the winners and on the top made no sense to me. As if there were a need to choose, as if there were not enough for everybody. As if God's love were not infinite, as if God were not capable of caring for all of creation.

I sometimes had the impression that Catholics were so preoccupied with human salvation and aspiration to holiness that they forgot to question the real sense of being created in the image of God and what image of God they were expressing. For me, holiness and hell did not go together. We could not be holy to ourselves and other humans while being devils to animals, aspiring to heaven while creating a hell in this life for animals and the earth they inhabit. 

In 2013, I found  the French translation of Andrew Linzey’s Animal Theology. The following year, I attended the Oxford Center for Animal Ethics Summer School session. The topic was about the ethical adequacy of religious attitudes to animals. It was a very enriching experience, seeing religious people concerned and interested in animals. I felt less lonely meeting other Christians thinking carefully about animals. Around that same time, I was surprised and delighted to discover a French website about animals and Christianity, the Fraternite pour Respect Le Animal (FRA). Today, I am in charge of this organization in France.

Four years later, I attended a conference and heard David Clough speak about CreatureKind and the six-week course for churches. The CreatureKind message resonated very strongly because it answered many of the questions I had been looking for. But, it was the CreatureKind approach that caught my attention and interest. CreatureKind’s inclusive position—of inviting Christians, right where they are, to start conversations about animals and the Christian faith—felt like an excellent first step. I thought that a tool like the six-week course would help Christian animal advocates in France. We are such a minority that this could be of invaluable help. Today I am part of the CreatureKind fellowship and will be soon presenting my project: a French version of the CreatureKind course!

Through the Fellowship, I am learning how justice for animals is part of a larger picture where other social justice issues (racism, speciesism, colonialism, etc.) converge. This has helped me understand  more about my country Mexico and where it stands concerning respect for animals, racism, classism, discrimination towards indigenous peoples, etc.

Every country has its particular context. By exploring with CreatureKind how these issues appear in the US context, I see the similarities and the differences concerning my own country Mexico, as well as France, where I live today. So far, my main struggle has been to convince others to include animals into the circle of Christian compassion. I am convinced that we need to advocate for humans, animals, and the environment at the same time. 

At first when beginning to explore the intersections of these justice issues, I was worried that this approach would take the attention from animals. I feared that animals could get lost among all the other causes. But it is important to remember that the aim is justice for all, not division or separation. I don’t think anti-racism means to be against white people or feminism is to be against men. So, too, to advocate for animals does not mean to be anti-human.

Reflecting on anti-speciesism as part of the CreatureKind fellowship led me to explore the concept of dualism as explained by the Franciscan friar Richard Rohr. Both of these notions have helped me understand why some humans worry that helping animals means taking away from humans. This is where understanding dualistic thinking can be helpful. Rohr says, “The dualistic mind is essentially binary, either/or thinking, where everything is separated into opposites. It knows, by comparison, opposition, and differentiation. It uses descriptive words like good/evil, pretty/ugly, smart/stupid, not realizing many variations exist between the two ends of each spectrum.” Unless we are conscious of this way of looking at the world, we will not perceive the interconnectedness of everything that exists. In one interview about racism and non-dualistic thinking, Rohr explains how the church has neglected its central work of teaching prayer and contemplation. This allowed the language of institutional religion itself to remain dualistic. A system based in duality can not perceive oneness, while contemplation allows us to see the wholeness of things.

Understanding the way dualistic thinking works helped me see why people were not very receptive to my early attempts to speak on behalf of animals. I realized that this rivalry between humans and animals could maybe be solved by understanding dualism. To end the tug-of-war, we need to stop and ask if we are seeing and responding to particular situations and ideas in a dualistic way. Exploring dualistic thinking has helped me understand these types of ready-made automatic responses or clichés that I have heard so often for so many years. The only way to respond is through a non-dualistic approach, to show that humans, animals, and the natural environment are connected, and that to harm one of these three groups is to harm them all. 

Today I am putting into practice CreatureKind’s approach of meeting people where they are to start conversations. I see this as an open, welcoming attitude, a form of invitation without obligation or judgment that makes people more willing to listen and less likely to adopt a defensive mindset. For a while at the beginning of my advocacy work, one of my priorities was to advocate for people to stop eating animals. For me, this was part of a search for coherence. Now, I think that opportunities to meet people are lost when we begin with this approach. Before talking about whether or not to eat animals, we need to reflect on the relationship between our Christian faith and concern for animals. Each Christian and Christian community must discern for themselves whether their faith has something to do with animal welfare. For some animal rights activists, this can sound like treason. I feel more comfortable having an open position towards Christians rather than starting purely from a vegan perspective.

Despite some new elements on animals’ status, such as the intrinsic value of creatures presented in Pope Francis’s encyclical, it is possible to conclude that the situation has not changed. The Catholic religion in the traditional branch remains anthropocentric. If God is the end of the universe, man is an intermediate end and is at the center. Despite this seemingly closed door, there is hope with open windows. Inside the Catholic faith, other traditions, such as the teachings of Saint Francis of Assisi, include animals and all creation into one whole community. We have the example of Saints that had special and close relationships with animals. Today, Catholic theologians are also working on these issues, which shows that it is possible to pursue a  positive current, among the anthropocentric ocean, to help change how the Catholic Church sees animal-kind.

 
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Estela Torres is an independent artist, born in Mexico, living in France, who has co-founded the FRA (Christian Organisation for Animal Respect). She studied art at the University of Monterrey and the Glassell School of Art (Houston, TX) and Animals and Society at the University of Rennes 2. Estela’s artwork places concern for animals in the midst of Christian spirituality and culture. Her CreatureKind project will consist of presenting (and translating) the CreatureKind six-week course to Christian churches in France.

Crying over Spilt Milk

by Lee Palumbo

While chatting with a friend one day about the high volume of antibiotics and other nasty ingredients found in today’s cows’ milk, he asked me, “So why do you care what others eat or drink?”

I cried.

I often cry over this subject. I struggle to maintain calm composure as my friends and family carry on with the traditional western, colonial diet composed of other living creatures’ excretions and remains. I cry because I feel like a helpless bystander, just watching everyone feed themselves, each other, and their children – all of whom trust that all is well with the food system and that all is well on the land where that food is grown.

But it’s not.

I live on the land now called Australia, a phrase created by Aboriginal leader, speaker, writer, and poet and Wakka Wakka descendent, Brooke Prentis. I am an immigrant from the United Kingdom and have had all the privileges that come with being European, middle class, and educated. I am one of the many second peoples on this land, a colonial settler, living on land that has irrevocably changed since its colonial occupation in 1786.

On this land, we encounter the oldest living civilisation on the planet.[1] These first peoples have been the custodians of this land from the beginning. Contrary to colonial mythology, they were not wandering nomads. These peoples were farmers who developed practices that were complex, sophisticated, and unique to the region. They were true custodians from the very first Dreamtime creation story of the land given to them by the Creator. They developed complex and sustainable aquaculture systems, grain cultivation, and established settlements.[2] British colonials often recorded details of these farming practices and structures before destroying them, and the people who perfected them, to make way for their own imported practices and livestock farming from Europe. The land was cleared for newly arrived settlers to raise cattle on the stolen land with appropriated food and farming practices.  

Colonial farming practices degraded the landscape and created what we know today as landscape with endangered wild species affected by deforestation and devastating bushfires. Bruce Pascoe, a Yuin indigenous elder explains and documents this brilliantly in his well-researched book Dark Emu. First peoples had a relationship with other creatures and a deep connection to the land. It is this connection that sustained the land and the community for over 60,000 years since the discovery of the first settlement of humans on Arnhem land in the northern region of the continent.[3] This connection was interrupted when colonisers decided to farm animals.

Sheep and cattle were imported with the first fleet and grazed on much of the native vegetation, deforesting the land to grow more feed crops. The greed of pastoralists, growing herds every year since, created mega industrial farms now producing more farmed animals than we need. We have become the third largest exporter of cows on the planet and yet our small population ranks fifty-fifth in the world. The shameful practice of live exports continues from this country, subjecting animals to cruel and terrifying conditions without food or water from continent to continent for days. Wealth is created by taking land from first peoples, enslaving them to work on the land and in the homes of pastoralists, and punishing anyone who opposed them. This country is wealthy, and the non-aboriginal population have an amazingly privileged life. The inequity is staggering.

The nation officially celebrates Australia Day on the 26th of January, to mark the arrival of the first fleet to these lands, which is also the start of the genocide – a day of deep sorrow and pain for first peoples. Armed with guns and carrying devastating diseases such as smallpox and other pandemics never before recorded amongst the people, the colonisers claimed land for themselves through the first wave, mass killings with firearms, rape, enslavement and poisoning of waterways, destroying whole clans and peaceful communities as they made their way inland from the coast. Then again through the second wave of despair, came alcoholism and the systematic removal of children from first families.[4] The church did little to protect the people, setting up missions for the remnant left and training stolen children into domestic slavery under the guise of adoption. Even before the church’s arrival on these shores, it had been backing colonial expansionism and imperialism. On this land the church worked alongside the government, facilitating the genocide and enslavement of indigenous people through segregation and so-called protection and assimilation policies. To put it simply the Christian church has systematically contributed to racism against first peoples from the first fleet.[5] We cannot celebrate a church that destroys, displaces, steals, and renames places, humans, and non-humans for the sake of expansion and profitability.

So, you see. All is definitely not right with the land and the food system now implemented.

It is unjust that unpaid farm workers strategically recruited from the aboriginal communities have yet to be paid reparations. It is unjust that foreigners and settlers on this land can farm animals and ship them live without food or water, and without consideration for climate or altitude shifts. It is unjust that this system continues to displace first peoples, depriving them of their sustainable farming practices, while also causing food apartheid and health disparities. It is unjust that we cause so much pain and suffering to those with whom we are meant to coexist and co-create under the great southern skies of the same Creator.

I live on a land with deep wounds, still unresolved from a violent occupation, and a desperate need for reparations so as to move toward reconciliation. All is not well with our land, and so much of that stems from our colonial farming practices.

As followers of the nonviolent Messiah, Jesus, is it possible for us to practice justice and peace via the foods we consume?  How can the food on my table reflect the Good News of the Creator to all beings?

I am no longer part of the mainstream church, but I belong to a cohousing group of three families, attempting to live alongside each other and the community hoping to reflect the ways of Jesus. We follow monastic rhythms together through set times for prayer, food, and partying with our neighbours, and we offer hospitality at every opportunity. As people who follow the teachings of Jesus, we come from a long history of radical hospitality, Jesus often met with others over food and healing. The disciples relied on the hospitality of others to live. The early church makers were renowned for it, and that hospitality should extend to all, not just our friends (Luke 14:12).  Local plant-based foods are an inclusive, healthy, and hospitable choice, rather than the colonial diet introduced to our plates via the destruction of land, humans, and other creatures.

So, yes, I cry over milk. Milk that is drunk and milk that is spilt, I cry for a land and a people who have suffered greatly just for a roast dinner or a big mac, or even a sausage on the “barbie.”  

I look at my 6-year-old granddaughter, and I wonder what kind of life she will have in the future: will there still be fish in the sea, koalas in gumtrees and a liveable climate to allow her outdoors? Will she, too, cry over the milk? Or will she live in world where suffering is no longer required in order to obtain milk? She understands why we do not eat animals as food and why we abstain from milk meant for calves, but she does not understand why others consume such things. I am a preachy vegan. My friends laugh when I confess. But it is important to follow what breaks our hearts and makes us cry. It is the only way we can address the streams of oppression that contort our world and create dis-ease amongst us. I am thankful that I am not alone with this challenge, and encouraged by the work of CreatureKind, and fellow activists across the planet.

 
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Lee Palumbo (she/her/hers) is a CreatureKind Fellow. She and her family live and work outside Melbourne in a cohousing community development. They are members of a missional based faith community, an initiative of the Baptist Union Victoria, aimed at co-creating connections and neighborliness in the newly built township. Lee also manages the family coffee roastery, grows some food, and assists with a social enterprise café in the neighbourhood. Lee has a Bachelor of Theology from Kingsley Wesleyan Methodist College (Sydney College of Divinity) and a Masters in Sustainable Community Development from Monash University. In recent years she has developed an interest in advocacy for animals, through considering how best to respond to our mandate to care for creation, and work towards the restoration of all things. Lee’s work with CreatureKind seeks to explore an Australian perspective about how people of faith can contribute to a truly sustainable food system and a better life for farmed animals through a deeper understanding of current animal agriculture.

[1] Malaspinas, AS., Westaway, M., Muller, C. et al. A genomic history of Aboriginal Australia. Nature 538, 207–214 (2016). https://doi.org/10.1038/nature18299

[2] Pascoe, Bruce. Dark Emu. Aboriginal Australia and the birth of Agriculture. Melbourne : Scribe Publications, 2018.

[3]https://australian.museum/learn/science/human-evolution/the-spread-of-people-to-australia/

[4] Harris, John. “Hiding the Bodies: the Myth of the Humane Colonisation of Aboriginal Australia.” Aboriginal History, vol. 27, 2003, pp. 79–104. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24054261. Accessed 21 Jan. 2021.

[5] Pattell-Gray, A. The Great White Flood. Racism in Australia. Atlanta, Ga. : Scholars Press, 1998

Vegan – and Christian, Too

by Nathan Porter

“You’re vegan? But I thought you were a Christian!” Comments like this one are familiar to followers of Jesus who have given up the use of animal products. I have been vegetarian for almost half a decade, and recently went vegan. Although I have received criticism from both religious and non-religious people, most of the censuring has come from my fellow Christians. This is at once expected and deeply unsettling: expected, because concern for animals has come to be associated with secular social and political projects; unsettling, because I believe that Christian theology provides a powerful impetus to care for the created order. Indeed, as a bit of historical digging reveals, modern animal welfare movements originated in early evangelicalism. Luminaries such as John Wesley, Charles Spurgeon, Hannah Moore, Augustus Toplady (author of “Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me”), and many others wrote and preached unabashedly against cruelty to animals, while William Wilberforce and several evangelical clerics helped to established the first animal protection organization.

This history has largely been forgotten by today’s Christians, but it raises important questions for the contemporary church. What was it about evangelical Christianity that gave rise to animal welfare, and does it still have value for the church today? As a CreatureKind Fellow, I am setting up conversations between scholars, pastors, and laity to make a start at answering this question. Our discussions will highlight the wealth of resources that can be drawn from many streams of the Christian tradition in the service of the Gospel, clarifying and enriching the church’s vocation to confront sin in an age of factory farming. These resources will be drawn from Scripture, patristic theology, ascetical theology, and other sources, placing them in conversation with contemporary voices in animal justice.

“If dominion is part of what it means to carry the image of God, then it must be defined by the servant king who is the true Image of the Invisible (Colossians 1). ”

I hope that discussions like these will help the church to recognize its freedom to care for animals, not despite, but precisely because of its faithfulness to Jesus and the Gospel. For there are distinctly Christian reasons to be concerned about the wellbeing of other animals. I will consider two of them here. First, and above all, this concern is grounded in Scripture. God created a world that was inhabited first of all by animals, to whom the earth was given for a home before humanity took its first breath. God commissioned Adam to name the animals – a covenant-establishing act between humanity and other creatures that recalls God’s naming of Adam, Abraham, Sarah, and Israel, marking them out as recipients of blessing rather than as objects to be dominated. In the Flood narrative, God does not simply save humans and wipe out the animal world, but saves humans and animals alike. The concern and providential care that God exercises over all creation is a constant theme of the Psalter. The prophets witness to the terrifying effects of human sin upon other the created order (Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Hosea), and similarly express God’s tender care for animals in their suffering (esp. Joel 1-2 and Jonah 4). Jesus’ victory over Satan in the wilderness results in a moment of peaceful co-existence with the animals of the desert (Mark 1.13), and Paul claims that the whole creation groans in its longing for the revelation of God’s children (Rom 8). The sacrifice of animals comes to an end with the death of Christ (Hebrews), who dies the death of a lamb – in place of human beings, to be sure, but also in place of the animals who were thought necessary for reconciliation with God. So it is far from clear that “dominion,” whatever it means, gives humans tyrannical autonomy in our treatment of other creatures. (The work of Ellen Davis, Walter Brueggemann, and Richard Bauckham provides detailed exegesis of these and other important passages.) If dominion is part of what it means to carry the image of God, then it must be defined by the servant king who is the true Image of the Invisible (Colossians 1). Our view of animals must be subject to the judgement of the cross of Christ, where the patterns of domination that determine creaturely relationships stand condemned once and for all. The crucified Word of God, the head over all creation, revealed his lordship in self-giving love, refusing to exploit the vulnerability of others for his own ends. God’s reign in the world means liberation, a gift of freedom that extends to the whole created order.

Second, concern for animals is grounded in the resurrection of Jesus. Christians who defend the eating of animals frequently argue that our world is fallen, governed by death and broken relationships between humans and other creatures, so that abuse of other creatures is simply part of the world we live in. Of course, it can hardly be denied that something is terribly wrong with the world as it stands. It does not follow, however, that the church is justified in accepting this brokenness as determinative for its own way of life. The resurrection of Jesus from the dead has inaugurated a new reality, one in which suffering and death do not have the last word in Christian ethics. The risen Lord holds the keys of death and Hades, and the New Testament insists that those who have been baptized into Christ have died and been resurrected with him. As Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians, “If anyone is in Christ – new creation!” This means that followers of Jesus are not justified in giving the old order of violence, greed, and subjugation a say in Christian ethics. To do so is to deny the transformative power of the risen Lord.

“The resurrection of Jesus from the dead has inaugurated a new reality, one in which suffering and death do not have the last word in Christian ethics. ”

It must not be forgotten, of course, that the promised future of God has yet to arrive in its fullness. Nonetheless, the church exists as a kind of outpost of that future, inhabiting the frontier that divides the old order from the new reality that God will one day usher in. It should come as no surprise that giving up the use of animals is extraordinarily difficult. It demands a genuinely ascetical way of life that embraces voluntary self-denial for the sake of our fellow creatures. This is misunderstood by many Protestants as a kind of “works righteousness,” but it is best understood as part of the process of sanctification. The aim is not asceticism for its own sake. What looks like self-denial now will be ubiquitous as a way of life when Christ returns. Yet such a way of going about in the world, embodying as it does the radical otherness of God’s future in the face of present structures of political and social life, unavoidably entails an ascetical view of the possibilities that are available to those who have been confronted by the demands of the Gospel. Indeed, for many people, veganism is experienced as a rupture, a dramatic break with the sort of life they had previously lived. Many familiar and cherished foods are now off the table (literally); one’s favorite restaurants may become forbidden territory. Tensions may arise between friends, with whom one can no longer share a cheeseburger, and between relatives, with whom one can no longer share a Thanksgiving turkey. It takes a great deal of time and work to find new ways to experience flourishing as an individual and in community (though such ways are increasingly available). Those who give up the use of animals find themselves in the center of the collision of God’s future with the brokenness of reality as we know it, so we should not be surprised that it is difficult and requires self-sacrifice. Although not all struggle is a good thing (especially when it is forced upon one by others), however, struggle is not by nature un-Christian. Forms of life that are built upon the abuse and exploitation of other creatures, the social and political ways of being in the world that press upon us in modernity, stand under the judgement of God, and it is faith in the risen Lord that compels Christians to resist them.

This, at any rate, is why I am a Christian vegan. At the same time, I realize that all theology is done in space and time, and therefore from a specific location. Mine is a situation of economic, social, and racial privilege, which necessarily qualifies the ascetical theology just outlined. For many people throughout the world, eating meat is a privilege that can hardly be taken for granted. What I have just written is directed to those for whom this is not true, and I recognize that the right approach to animal welfare will look very different in different contexts. I also recognize that sins against other human beings are deeply entangled with sins against animals. Not only has industrialized agriculture been built upon and fueled by racism, but racism has even infected the struggle for animal justice. Mainstream environmentalism and animal protection have too often been defined and driven by what Christopher Carter has called the “white racial frame.” No adequate Christian approach to the crisis of modern agriculture can afford to ignore the voices of those who have suffered from it. It is imperative to include the perspectives of Black, Brown, and Indigenous people of color who have suffered from the racism that is endemic to factory farming and who are also among those at the front lines of the fight for animals. This is a matter about which I am learning more on a daily basis, and my own assumptions are increasingly called into question by those who approach the issue from very different starting points. Yet this dialogue is crucial to the development of a truly Christian conception of animal justice, and it is one to which I am committed.

It is tragically unsurprising that the church has ignored the plight of animals when its white constituency has just as willfully ignored or been the perpetrators of racial subjugation. Christians who cannot love their fellow humans will be equally incapable of loving other-than-human creatures. All forms of domination embody the reign of death that loyalty to Jesus compels the church to renounce, for just to the extent that the church remains complicit in the suffering of humans and other animals, it sets itself against the life-giving power that flows from the resurrected Christ. But the situation is not hopeless, as the unexpected blossoming of concern for animals in early evangelicalism reveals. It is my earnest hope that the church will come to recognize the wealth of theological resources that are at its disposal in the struggle on behalf of animals – not only traditional resources, but also those that can be found only in conversation with people whose voices have often been excluded. Then will the church’s pursuit of justice truly reflect “the wisdom of God in all its rich variety” (Ephesians 3.10).

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Nathan Porter is a student at Duke Divinity School in Durham, North Carolina. He is pursuing a career in academia (focusing on patristic creation theology) and seeking ordination as an Anglican priest. His passion for animal justice, creation theology, and preaching led him to CreatureKind, and he hopes that this fellowship will launch his life-long work on behalf of all God’s creatures.

A Many-Folded Cord

by Beth Quick

“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up the other … A threefold cord is not quickly broken.” (Ecclesiastes 4:9, 10a, 12b, NRSV) 

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

I’ve been a vegetarian since I was a teenager, and a vegan for the past several years, but building community with other folks who are passionate about caring for animals is fairly new to me. A couple of years ago I connected with some regional groups of vegans, and I really enjoyed sharing space, virtual and physical, with others who were committed to justice for animals. What I didn’t find in those groups, though, were many connections with others who approached their animal advocacy from a faith perspective. I’ve always thought about my veganism and animal advocacy as grounded in my Christian discipleship. I think God entrusts humanity with caring for creation, and I think we’re inextricably linked with all God’s creatures. I think God’s vision for the world, God’s reign on earth, is a world where all can live into their full potential, and none of us can do that when we harm and exploit each other and the earth. I felt like my framing of my veganism as a matter of faith isolated me from other vegans. 

Connecting with CreatureKind, then, has been a blessing to me: I am not alone! The opportunity to work as a CreatureKind fellow gives me even more opportunities to affirm that I am not alone in my faith-orientation to compassion for animals at all. My project focuses on working for legislative change for farmed animals within the polity of The United Methodist Church (UMC). I could try to achieve this polity change on my own. Strategically, though, I know that proposed changes to our advocacy statements in The UMC have a better chance of succeeding when they are supported by a group or coalition rather than just an individual. Part of my project, then, includes the work of coalition building. 

In my initial proposal, I included coalition building as a secondary, supportive theme of the project. In the few weeks since the Fellowship began, I have moved the coalition-building topic to a primary position. I’m in the midst of realizing that my sense of isolation as a Christian vegan does not in fact mean that there are not other Christian animal advocates out there. Christians are already doing excellent, meaningful, transformative work (including all the good folx who have dreamed up and lived out the principles at CreatureKind, for example!). 

I’ve been coming to terms with my privilege in assuming that I’m creating something that others aren’t already doing. This semester, my first semester of a PhD program at Drew Theological School, one of my courses focus on feminist theory. Our first readings in the class focused on raising awareness of how white women feminists have written a “history of feminism” that assumes that the feminism of white women in the United States is first, original, and setting the standard for the work of dismantling patriarchy and oppression of women. In reality, though, women of color and women around the world have long been engaged in articulating feminist aims and dismantling oppressive structures. Feminist theory involves critiquing and correcting the dominant (white) narrative’s oversight and suppression of the excellent work being done by black, Asian, and Latinx women, by indigenous women, and by women around the globe. As I start the work of coalition building for my project, I wonder what excellent work people are already doing that I’m not seeing because of my place of privilege as a white middle-class woman from the United States.

Already, I’m finding delight in new connections with co-laborers for farm animals that are popping up nearly faster than I can keep up with them. Perhaps I’ll be bringing some people together for new, specific conversations. Yet, this group will be made of workers with existing wisdom, experience, and connections from which I can learn, people who will help shape me, even as I seek to shape The UMC’s view of animals. I’m thankful that I am not alone in my work. Instead, I’m a strand in a many-folded cord that’s being woven to work for God’s creatures, human and nonhuman alike.

Beth Book Cover Photo Edits V.2.jpg

Beth Quick (she/her/hers) is a PhD student of Drew Theological Seminary in Religion and Society with a focus on ecology and animal ethics. Beth currently resides in Madison, NJ and is pursuing work in various levels of the United Methodist Church to craft legislation and polity in defense of farmed animals in her role as a CreatureKind Fellow. Beth blogs and posts ministry resources including sermons and sung communion liturgies at www.bethquick.com. She published Singing at the Table, a collection of sung communion liturgies, in the summer of 2020.

An Advent Reflection: Instruments of Peace for All Creatures

by Tim Mascara

On December 4, 1959, Soviet artist Evgeny Vuchetich presented a bronze statue to the United Nations, titled Let Us Beat Our Swords into Plowshares. The sculpture is an image of a man beating a sword into a plowshare, meant to symbolize humankind's desire to end war—the desire to take the tools of violence and war and turn them into tools for peace, tools to benefit humankind rather than harm it. The statue still stands, now green from tarnish, in the northern gardens of the UN headquarters.

This transformational image of turning swords into plowshares is a recurrent theme in Scripture.

"He will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning forks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore." -Isaiah 2:4

"He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore." -Micah 4:3

"You will laugh at violence and famine, and need not fear the wild animals. For you will have a covenant with the stones of the field, and the wild animals will be at peace with you. -Job 5:22-23

These are prophecies of something to come. A peace that is distant, far off, not yet realized. It is a peace for which this "weary world rejoices." In light of Isaiah's prophecy, we are called to confess how we have not been peaceful in various aspects of our lives. We take the time to confess because we need to acknowledge violence was never a part of God's ideal for the world, and yet it plagues us.

…we are called to confess how we have not been peaceful in various aspects of our lives. We take the time to confess because we need to acknowledge violence was never a part of God's ideal for the world, and yet it plagues us.

Isaiah uses other metaphors to illustrate just how foreign violence and death should be to our world. In Isaiah 11, he prophecies of the wolf living with the lamb, lions with calves, leopards with goats, and lions eating straw like the ox. Even the tools that animals used for violence, claws and sharp fangs, seem to be no longer used in this way. Isaiah prophesies of a child leading these predatory animals, feeding bears and playing near cobra dens. Of course, right now, trying this might not be the best idea. But what a thought! Not only will peace reign in human affairs, but across the entirety of creation and including all God's creatures.

I cannot help but wonder what the relationship between humanity and the animal kingdom will look like. If there are no more swords, no more violence, no more death, could there be no more killing between species, too?

Some may argue peace won't reign in the animal kingdom, that predators will always be predators. I understand how faithful Christians differ on these issues, yet I struggle to see how there could have been predation before the Fall if Genesis 1:30 really means what I think it means.

"Then God said, 'I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. 30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.' And it was so." -Genesis 1:29-30

The reign of peace and flourishing across all creation—what Hebrews call "shalom"—seems to have been God's original intention for the created order. And Christ entered into this world to begin bringing that heavenly kingdom to bear on our broken, violent, sword-wielding and war-torn world. I believe this peace will affect humans and animals alike.

I see this in other places in Scripture that point to a future peace as well. Over and over again, Scripture underscores how deeply God cares for creation:

"In that day I will make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, the birds in the sky and the creatures that move along the ground. Bow and sword and battle I will abolish from the land, so that all may lie down in safety." -Hosea 2:18

"And should I not have great concern for the city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?" -Jonah 4:11

We know that Christ has ushered in the new kingdom now, but not yet fully. This is the tension in which we now live. We celebrate Christ's first coming, yet we hope for Christ's second coming to bring the fullness of joy, love, and peace.

So where am I going with this? Even though we live in this tension, I believe we can still put into practice some of the aspects of the Kingdom of God. Even as we pray the Lord's prayer, we can remember that even now, we can begin living and acting in ways that cause small breakthroughs of peace into our world.

To pray, "…Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven," is to pray that God's peaceable Kingdom will now begin to be partially realized in our world. I believe it is beginning to not only ask that Christ's peace will one day reign, but that we may become agents of Christ's peace today. If we are praying these words regularly, we must begin pondering how we are to see this in our own lives.

I think a valuable way of assessing this question is looking to Isaiah, and to symbolic ways we can live in peace rather than in violence. One suggestion might be eating a greener, more plant-based diet as a small, specific way we can practice peace today. Even as I ponder how we have not been instruments of peace, I wonder if this small act could begin, at least in part, beating our swords into plowshares.

I find it hard to believe that the images we see in Isaiah, at creation, and in the covenant God makes between man and animal are merely analogies. Could they not be glimpses of reality as it once was, and what it will one day be again? Could my choice to eat less meat be a small act of the coming peaceable kingdom?

Have you pondered how small actions and small practices can influence much larger events? Christ encourages this way of thinking by declaring that someone who can be trusted with little can also be trusted with much. This principle can be applied in many ways, one of which I believe is that small acts have the power to influence much greater acts. Perhaps choosing something different on your plate could be a small and subtle way to influence your interaction with someone else in your life. Perhaps choosing compassion for one of God's creatures could be a tool for the Holy Spirit to soften your heart toward a difficult or stressful family member. What if choosing to practice peace at the table could begin to train our hearts toward the coming peace, when the Kingdom is finally and fully realized?

What if choosing to practice peace at the table could begin to train our hearts toward the coming peace, when the Kingdom is finally and fully realized?

I understand that Christians differ on these issues, and even on their views of peace regarding the animal kingdom. I personally believe that the Garden was, and the coming Kingdom will be, a place without violence or death for all who have lifeblood. I believe that the images we see in Isaiah are glimpses of the large arc from creation through the fall and to final redemption. This affects my interpretation on how the coming kingdom is played out in my day to day life. Places like factory farms do not only harbor darkness, despair, and pain for animals, but also for fellow humans who have to work in those environments and for God's good earth. 

Finally, while I am writing that the act of eating a plant-based diet can be an act of peace, the goal for all of us who follow Christ is to ask how we might begin practicing God's Kingdom now. Whether it concerns the choices we make on our plates, our politics, how we relate to our family, or any number of the myriad decisions we make over the course of our lifetimes, the question is still: How can I be an instrument of peace?

Tim Mascara is an Associate Pastor at StoneBridge Church Community. He lives in Davidson, NC with his wife and two young boys. This article was originally published by Evangelicals for Social Action and is reprinted here with permission.

Lenten Reflection: Transforming Scarcity into Excess

by Lucas Patterson

During the Lenten season of reflection, it’s appropriate to meditate on the “other” – quiet partners deeply woven into the fabric of our daily existence and sustenance. There are immense spiritual and practical applications to be considered, and giving up meat for Lent is a uniquely tangible way we can consider the intersections between human and non-human creations of the same Creator God.

That relationship between Creator and creation received above average attention in the weeks leading up to Lent as one environmentally-minded group launched Million Dollar Vegan, a challenge asking the Pope to give up meat for Lent in exchange for a $1 million gift to the nonprofit of his choice. He quietly declined the offer, but public awareness of connections between Lent and reduced meat consumption grew nonetheless.

The practice of giving up meat for Lent is anything but new and reasons for this dietary sacrifice pre-date some of the more popular modern motivators such as concerns regarding climate change and animal welfare. Instead, it goes back to the first century and is based, in part, on meat playing a historically significant role in celebrations and feasts. Meat was considered special because it came at great financial cost, which limited its use. And on Fridays during Lent as Christians meditate on the crucifixion, the mood is anything but festive. Our thoughts are somber and streamlined, focusing on matters of eternal consequence.

Stories in the Bible highlight Jesus’ penchant for transforming scarcity into excess—multiplying seven loaves and fishes into sufficient food to feed thousands, for example. Carol J. Adams, in a SARX article about her 2018 book, Burger, presents a striking contrast to Jesus’ miraculous resource stewardship by describing how food producers (and consumers driving demand) have turned a blind eye to the ethical dilemmas created by staggeringly poor agricultural efficiencies:

“For every 16 pounds of grain and soy fed to beef cattle in the United States we get back one pound of meat. We have become the people who reverse the miracle, diverting and reducing rather than multiplying resources.”

Nearly 2,000 years after the crucifixion and resurrection, abstaining from meat remains a staple of contemplative Christians during Lent because meat continues to come at great cost. Especially to the animals. Although this year’s 40 days of Lent ends on April 18, a critical question to keep in mind beyond the Easter season is how our Christian worldview influences food policy decisions on a personal and corporate level. Will we be workers pushing for miraculous change, or those who would maintain the status quo and “reverse the miracle” through the inertia of inaction?

Lucas Patterson works in grant writing and other philanthropy communications for Southern Adventist University in southeast Tennessee. He enjoys contributing to the important food policy mission of CreatureKind as both a monthly donor and through occasional website and editorial assistance.

Instruments of Peace for All Creatures

by Tim Mascara

Pixabay.com

Pixabay.com

On December 4, 1959, Soviet artist Evgeny Vuchetich presented a bronze statue to the United Nations, titled Let Us Beat Our Swords into Plowshares. The sculpture is an image of a man beating a sword into a plowshare, meant to symbolize humankind’s desire to end war—the desire to take the tools of violence and war and turn them into tools for peace, tools to benefit humankind rather than harm it. The statue still stands, now green from tarnish, in the northern gardens of the UN headquarters.

This transformational image of turning swords into plowshares is a recurrent theme in Scripture.

“He will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning forks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.” -Isaiah 2:4

“He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.” -Micah 4:3

“You will laugh at violence and famine, and need not fear the wild animals. For you will have a covenant with the stones of the field, and the wild animals will be at peace with you. -Job 5:22-23

These are prophecies of something to come. A peace that is distant, far off, not yet realized. It is a peace for which this “weary world rejoices.” In light of Isaiah’s prophecy, we are called to confess how we have not been peaceful in various aspects of our lives. We take the time to confess because we need to acknowledge violence was never a part of God’s ideal for the world, and yet it plagues us.

…we are called to confess how we have not been peaceful in various aspects of our lives. We take the time to confess because we need to acknowledge violence was never a part of God’s ideal for the world, and yet it plagues us.

Isaiah uses other metaphors to illustrate just how foreign violence and death should be to our world. In Isaiah 11, he prophesies of the wolf living with the lamb, lions with calves, leopards with goats, and lions eating straw like the ox. Even the tools that animals used for violence, claws and sharp fangs, seem to be no longer used in this way. Isaiah prophesies of a child leading these predatory animals, feeding bears and playing near cobra dens. Of course, right now, trying this might not be the best idea. But what a thought! Not only will peace reign in human affairs, but across the entirety of creation and including all God’s creatures.

I cannot help but wonder what the relationship between humanity and the animal kingdom will look like. If there are no more swords, no more violence, no more death, could there be no more killing between species, too?

Some may argue peace won’t reign in the animal kingdom, that predators will always be predators. I understand how faithful Christians differ on these issues, yet I struggle to see how there could have been predation before the Fall if Genesis 1:30 really means what I think it means.

“Then God said, ‘I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. 30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.’ And it was so.” -Genesis 1:29-30

The reign of peace and flourishing across all creation—what Hebrews call “shalom”—seems to have been God’s original intention for the created order. And Christ entered into this world to begin bringing that heavenly kingdom to bear on our broken, violent, sword-wielding and war-torn world. I believe this peace will affect humans and animals alike.

I see this in other places in Scripture that point to a future peace as well. Over and over again, Scripture underscores how deeply God cares for creation:

“In that day I will make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, the birds in the sky and the creatures that move along the ground. Bow and sword and battle I will abolish from the land, so that all may lie down in safety.” -Hosea 2:18

“And should I not have great concern for the city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?” -Jonah 4:11

We know that Christ has ushered in the new kingdom now, but not yet fully. This is the tension in which we now live. We celebrate Christ’s first coming, yet we hope for Christ’s second coming to bring the fullness of joy, love, and peace.

So where am I going with this? Even though we live in this tension, I believe we can still put into practice some of the aspects of the Kingdom of God. Even as we pray the Lord’s prayer, we can remember that even now, we can begin living and acting in ways that cause small breakthroughs of peace into our world.

To pray, “…Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” is to pray that God’s peaceable Kingdom will now begin to be partially realized in our world. I believe it is beginning to not only ask that Christ’s peace will one day reign, but that we may become agents of Christ’s peace today. If we are praying these words regularly, we must begin pondering how we are to see this in our own lives.

I think a valuable way of assessing this question is looking to Isaiah, and to symbolic ways we can live in peace rather than in violence. One suggestion might be eating a greener, more plant-based diet as a small, specific way we can practice peace today. Even as I ponder how we have not been instruments of peace, I wonder if this small act could begin, at least in part, beating our swords into plowshares.

I find it hard to believe that the images we see in Isaiah, at creation, and in the covenant God makes between man and animal are merely analogies. Could they not be glimpses of reality as it once was, and what it will one day be again? Could my choice to eat less meat be a small act of the coming peaceable kingdom?

Have you pondered how small actions and small practices can influence much larger events? Christ encourages this way of thinking by declaring that someone who can be trusted with little can also be trusted with much. This principle can be applied in many ways, one of which I believe is that small acts have the power to influence much greater acts. Perhaps choosing something different on your plate could be a small and subtle way to influence your interaction with someone else in your life. Perhaps choosing compassion for one of God’s creatures could be a tool for the Holy Spirit to soften your heart toward a difficult or stressful family member. What if choosing to practice peace at the table could begin to train our hearts toward the coming peace, when the Kingdom is finally and fully realized?

What if choosing to practice peace at the table could begin to train our hearts toward the coming peace, when the Kingdom is finally and fully realized?

I understand that Christians differ on these issues, and even on their views of peace regarding the animal kingdom. I personally believe that the Garden was, and the coming Kingdom will be, a place without violence or death for all who have lifeblood. I believe that the images we see in Isaiah are glimpses of the large arc from creation through the fall and to final redemption. This affects my interpretation on how the coming kingdom is played out in my day to day life. Places like factory farms do not only harbor darkness, despair, and pain for animals, but also for fellow humans who have to work in those environments and for God’s good earth. 

Finally, while I am writing that the act of eating a plant-based diet can be an act of peace, the goal for all of us who follow Christ is to ask how we might begin practicing God’s Kingdom now. Whether it concerns the choices we make on our plates, our politics, how we relate to our family, or any number of the myriad decisions we make over the course of our lifetimes, the question is still: How can I be an instrument of peace?

Tim Mascara is an Associate Pastor at StoneBridge Church Community. He lives in Davidson, NC with his wife and two young boys. This piece originally appeared at EvangelicalsforSocialAction.org and is reprinted here with permission.