As a horse trainer, I have always gone into horse movies with a heavy dose of skepticism.  Even some of the most beautiful movies ever directed can fall apart for me when the references to riding, training, or care of horses are incorrect.  I imagine doctors or nurses have a similar experience when they watch medical dramas on television.  The movie magic shatters for a moment when a soldier mounts his horse from the wrong side, or a doctor is shown galloping a horse over rocky roads for miles only to arrive at his destination with a sound, unlathered horse.

War Horse intrigued me as a different sort of horse movie.  Unlike the string of racehorse movies that have come out over the last few years (Dreamer, Seabiscuit, Secretariat), about the people, circumstances, and competitions involving a horse, War Horse set out to be more like that famous old novel Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, and its many film interpretations.  It is a movie about a horse, and the people that care for him, not the other way around.  In the War Horse novel, by Michael Morpurgo, (as well as in Black Beauty) the horse narrates the book.  The movie does not have a narrator, but it follows the horse, rather than the people, through his transitions from colt, to beloved companion, to farm horse, to war horse. 

Steven Spielberg’s intention was to focus on the horse himself: a beautiful, well-built, Warmblood-type horse named Joey.  In recent interviews Spielberg admitted this was quite a challenge, because in most of his movies the horses simply don’t matter; they are just a soldier’s transportation, or a scenic background aesthetic. 

Spielberg’s portrayal of the horse succeeds and fails in different scenes.  In some scenes, the horse acts so – forgive me, but – like a horse, that I felt that I was home at the barn with a new bay friend.  But then a scene later the movie adds a fairy tale element that undermines the realism I think he was going for.  After watching a realistic scene of the boy training Joey to lunge (walk on a leadline in a circle around the trainer, which is something all horses learn to do before mounted work), I was excited and encouraged that such a mundane, but real, task was shown.  However, in the next scene the boy trains the horse to “come” by looking him deeply in the eyes and explaining to him that he must come when called; and of course, the horse does.   From experience, I can tell you that horses don’t understand English, and no matter how earnestly you ask, words alone will not train a horse to do anything, except maybe listen politely. 

In another example, we see that the Joey, after plowing a rocky muddy field over the course of an entire night is left with bleeding, broken skin from the friction of the harness collar.  The owners were forced by desperation to plow the difficult field or they would face eviction from their rented property.  They had to sacrifice the horse’s well-being to accomplish that goal – a realistic insight into the lives of some draft animals, even in the best of hands.  The boy is shown in regret and sorrow the next morning, tenderly caring for the horse’s wounds.  I applaud Spielberg for showing the reality of a hard-worked horse – a gritty detail most movies gloss over, ignoring the flesh and blood and pain of the horses to portray them merely as machines with hooves and tails.  But the effect of such a realistic scene was blunted by the fantasy-like images of the horse’s plow cutting through enormous rocks like butter, which surely couldn’t have happened.  What set out to be a realistic portrayal of the difficulties of rural life turned into a fairy tale as the horse was elevated from a strong and well-built horse – a real horse - to a miraculous horse with capabilities exceeding the true range of horse-kind. 

This back and forth continues throughout the movie.  Some scenes were so true to the nature of horses that I was brought to tears, of joy in parts, and pity or rage in others.  But others scenes were so off (though maybe only a horse person would notice) that I audibly groaned.  Why can’t you just let the horse be a horse?   

Why not indulge the fantastical elements, you might ask?  Why does the feeling that the horse was painted as more of a legend than a real creature turn me off?  Here’s the thing; I really think that horses are marvelous creatures.  Just plain old, real, grass and hay, bleeding and breathing, kicking and bucking, nuzzling and nickering horses.  And I think that an entire movie could be produced that stayed true to the God-given nature of horses, and it would be better, more real, more heart-wrenching, more awe-inspiring, than any fiction.  You see, what directors think they need to do to make a good animal movie, is to make the animal more human.  But I hope I speak for many horse- (and other animal-) lovers out there when I say that we love the animals because they are what God made them to be - animals. 

There are scenes in the movie that seem to get that.  Joey is shown spooking, shying, and rearing in fear.  He refuses a jump and sends his rider tumbling.  In a scene that touched my heart (as a hunter-jumper trainer), Joey calmly walks around a little obstacle a girl set up for him to jump and looks at her as if to say, “You really thought I was going to pick up all four of my feet and twelve hundred pounds of horseflesh to jump that? Hah!”  I’ve seen dozens of horses do just that, especially when I am teaching very young riders on seasoned and wily school ponies.  Vigor and strength aside, horses are experts at doing as little work as possible.  Someone who contributed to that scene knew something about real horses.  Those very real scenes are the ones that made the movie worth watching, pulled at your heart strings, and made the emotional impact meaningful.   

In one of the most emotional scenes in the movie, a German soldier and a British soldier work together to free Joey from a mess of tangled barbed wire in no-man’s-land between the trenches.  They begin a dialogue about the horse.  What a strange creature a war horse is, they remark somberly; a prey creature that would naturally flee from danger, but trained for the benefit of men to run straight into it.  Their commentary carries a heaviness and sadness, much like the words of the boy when washing the blood off his horse’s neck after asking him to plow the rocky field.       

That dialogue sums up the plight of war horses.  Throughout the movie we see everything natural, beautiful, and good about horses attacked by the necessities of the war.  Hundreds or thousands of horses were taken from green pastures to work in mud- and blood-drenched wastelands.  Instead of running from danger, they run onto bayonets.   Thoroughbreds born with thin and nimble legs for racing haul artillery until dropping dead, or shot through the head while still in the harness. 

The soldiers in the movie feel the same burden of senselessness and dread.  They are living unnaturally, in the dark dampness of the trenches, surrounded by bodies, fearful of nerve gas, but compelled to storm the enemy trenches, leaping their fallen comrades.  Their bitterest enemy is despair.  Joey’s resilience and survival through the war inspires the British soldiers to hope.  Here is where Spielberg needed no fantasy.  It didn’t matter if the horse could pull a plow through solid rock, or understand the whispers of his boy, or step forward to accept the harness instead of his comrade.  His story would have been as inspiring – or more – if he had really been just a horse.  Just a horse who happened to survive the most atrocious things any horse has ever faced.  Just a beautiful horse underneath mud and blood and sweat.  Just a horse who recognized his owner many years and battles after their anguishing separation. 

When I left the theater, even though I cried during half a dozen scenes, the movie felt unfinished.  Though the movie follows Joey throughout his life, I still felt left without a main character.  Joey grows up in the first few minutes of the movie, then seems to be on autopilot through the rest of the story, going where they said go, pulling when they said pull, jumping what they said jump.  He does not grow or change through his circumstances.  His psyche does not seem shocked or altered by the atrocities of war.  Though we follow the plight of the horses in the first world war (a very interesting subject), we are left somewhere short of really knowing one.  I had the feeling that if every scene had been 30 minutes longer they could have done more justice to each character, both human and animal.  Of course that couldn’t be done in a two-hour movie, and I think that within the time restraint it is still a lovely tribute to war horses.    

The movie, overall, is beautiful and moving, but somewhere short of truly inspiring.  It shows the terror of war, but a main character who is oddly unaffected.  I appreciated the realistic portrayal of horses, where it was realistic, and bemoaned the anthropomorphism that found its way in, as it does in all animal movies I have seen.  I generally don’t enjoy war movies because of the violence, but this one kindly did not show graphic blood or gore.  Most of the shooting, of humans and horses, occurs in the distance or off-screen, and though difficult issues are tackled (such as young soldiers being shot for cowardice) I believe it is still appropriate for older children.

For fellow animal lovers, I think the movie will help you appreciate the central place horses hold in the history of human civilization: in peace and war, agriculture and sport, at the mercy of human sin and in the center of many human hearts.  I recommend the movie.  I only wish it had been longer and took an even deeper plunge into the unique heart and character of its “miraculous” horse, and shown him to be what God made him to be and what I love dearly: horse.

Early in the documentary Buck, Dan “Buck” Brannaman tells a crowd of attentive, aspiring horse trainers that there are rarely “people with horse problems” but most often “horses with people problems.”  Yes, Buck is interesting because he’s a primary inspiration for Robert Redford’s 1998 drama The Horse Whisperer, but his story becomes especially fascinating as we learn of what this real-life horse whisperer has endured to become a magical horseman.

Buck possesses an uncanny ability to train horses.  His approach both chastises traditionally brutal means of training, and inspires a traveling circuit that attracts people from all around the country who desire to learn his ways.  Rather than “breaking” the will of untrained horses with blunt punishment, Buck has learned to communicate with them.  An advocate of building trust with a horse, Buck uses a model of discipline that is characterized by restraint, humility, and gentility.  Rather than beat a horse into submission, he loves the horse in such a way that it is responsive to him in ways that have to be seen to be believed.

Yet, what makes Buck’s “natural horsemanship” particularly remarkable is how it exhibits humane qualities that were utterly foreign to him as the child of an abusive father.  People close to Buck are driven to tears when they recall the drunken beatings that Buck and his brother regularly received from their father.  The abuse was so bad that the boys would eventually have to be rescued, and spend considerable time in foster care.  In one sense, the documentary is a tribute to loving foster homes.  Any turnaround or healing that has occurred in Buck’s life is largely attributable to his foster mother.

But even more influential on Buck was Ray Hunt—a founder of the natural horsemanship movement.  Ray took Buck under his wing and, instead of coddling the abused boy, he molded him: he gave him an activity to which he could devote himself in a truly disciplined way.  Natural horsemanship became a safe haven for Buck, a calling that helped assuage the burdens of his childhood.  Nowadays, Buck spends 9 months a year on the road, helping other people become more humane horsemen and horsewomen.

An interesting angle in the documentary is Buck’s slowly growing social skills.  As a product of child abuse, he could barely speak publicly in a way that befits a teacher.  Yet, while Buck has slowly become more transparent, approachable, and communicative, there’s a lingering undertone to portions of the film that hints of loneliness and significant time spent away from his family.  While Buck seems psychologically healthy given his childhood, he also evinces scarring that I’m not sure a humane unity with horses can ultimately heal.

Nonetheless, Buck’s story is powerful in three primary ways.  First, as a teacher of both horses and humans, he understands one of the most imperative elements of relationships: trust is the foundation of learning, discipline, and character-formation.  Second, Buck’s overcoming his child abuse without coming to perpetuate what his father instilled in him is a tribute to the human capacity to be free.  Buck cannot help but be shaped by his childhood, but the abuse he’s received does not lead to abuse of others.

Finally, Buck embodies the truth that how we treat animals reveals much about how humane we are—or aren’t.  If true, then Buck’s incredible life is a beacon of hope.  Even the most inhumane circumstances can be redeemed and recreated into something beautiful, creative, and compassionate.  For these reasons, Buck is not only a compelling documentary: it’s one of the better films I’ve seen this year.

(this article originally appeared in The Moviegoer, a column that can be read weekly at Christ and Pop Culture; for more about the author Nick Olson, please be sure to see the bio at the bottom of the original post; thanks as well to Karen Swallow Prior for sharing this review from her former student at Liberty University; dvd cover from MPI Home Video '11)

In Psalm 104 the Psalmist declares “How many are your works, O Lord!  In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.” (v. 24, NIV)  Elsewhere in this psalm the biblical writer mentions a number of creatures.  He refers to “wild donkeys,” “birds of the air,” “the cattle,” “the stork,” “wild goats,” “the coneys,” “the beasts of the forest,” “lions,” and “leviathan.”  He also mentions other aspects of God’s Creation: the clouds, the wind, the mountains, springs, grass, trees, the moon, the sun, the forest, and the sea.  Without a doubt, the Psalmist recognized all of Creation to be God’s wonderful handiwork and a manifestation of His wisdom.  God’s Creation is seen as a reason for joyful praise.

I find the many references in Psalm 104 to different parts of Creation to be interesting.  It is obvious this writer was a student of nature and an astute observer of the world around him.  The Psalmist was overwhelmed by the wonder and vastness of God’s works.  What he didn’t realize when he wrote these words was that what he had observed was just a “drop in the bucket.”  He could only write about what he had seen in what we call the Middle East.  If he was overwhelmed by what he saw in his own small part of the world, just imagine what he would have thought if he could have known about all the other creatures and wonders of God’s Creation he could not see or know about.

Recently I purchased a copy of the Smithsonian's Natural History: The Ultimate Visual Guide to Everything on Earth (Dorling Kindersley '10).  In this large 648 page book the editors seek to introduce the reader to “everything on Earth—from rocks to redwoods, microbes to mammals.”  The book features over 5,000 beautiful illustrations and photographs.  It truly is a feast for the eyes and contains a wealth of information.  The price of the book is a bit steep, $50, but I discovered you can purchase it on Amazon.com for almost half of that.  It is a book I highly recommend to all lovers of nature.

If you purchase the book or check it out at the library I’m certain you will find yourself saying with the Psalmist, “How many are your works, O Lord!”  I have been blessed to do a good bit of traveling in my life and have certainly seen a lot, but this book has reminded me that like the Psalmist, what I have seen is only a drop in the bucket.  Being made aware of the vastness and variety of God’s Creation I stand in awe of the Creator and join the Psalmist in offering my joyful praise to Him.  Our God truly is an awesome God!  Just look around you …

– Chuck

(I photographed the Olympic marmot at Olympic National Park, the chukar at Haleakala National Park, and the butterfly and milkweed at Shenandoah National Park.)

(many thanks to Chuck, a pastor and nature photographer based in Kentucky and our newest regular contributor, for sharing "A Drop in the Bucket" and the accompanying photos (copyright) which were originally posted on his blog Seeing Creation)

- The Christian Broadcasting Network posted a commendable news segment and accompanying article on Christian "alternative farmer" Joel Salatin, "Natural Farming: Inspiring Passionate 'Stewards.'"  Salatin has received national attention in the natural food movement, including films such as Food, Inc. and books such as The Omnivore's Dilemma.  Following the video is a great quote from Salatin in CBN's article:

"It is how you respect and honor the least of these that creates a consistent ethical framework on which you honor and respect the greatest of these," he said.  "It starts by honoring and respecting the pigness of the pig and the chickenness of the chicken." 

- On a similar note, Zachary Hawkins wrote a truly beautiful piece for Flourish Magazine on his father Jeff, a pastor and farmer in Wabash County, Indiana who also hosts other church leaders on his farm for HOPE CSA, or "Hands-On Pastoral Education using Clergy Sustaining Agriculture."  Here's just one poignant passage from "Tending the Flock: Soil, Soul, and the Ministry of HOPE CSA":

“One reason that we have the pigs outside, instead of in confinement,” (Jeff) says, “is they get to be pigs.”

... “In a confined area, the pigs have to conform their behaviors to the structure we’ve set up,” my dad continues. “They can’t root; they can’t seek.  One benchmark for their health is they get to be what they are, and rooting is part of that.”

- Washington state pastor Craig Goodwin's book Year of Plenty: One Suburban Family, Four Rules, and 365 Days of Homegrown Adventure in Pursuit of Christian Living (Sparkhouse '11) was one of my favorite reads last year, and really makes you think about where our food comes from and how it is produced.   Here are a few lines from a review I posted on already, empathy, touching on the chapter "Chicken Dignity" in particular:

I greatly appreciated Craig’s attention to the incredibly degrading and unhealthy way in which the vast majority of poultry and many other livestock are brought to our dinner tables.  This industrial process applied to sentient beings (often referred to as ‘factory farming’) withholds some of their most basic, God-given needs, such as access to space, sunlight and natural diet.  Craig notes many reasons and their biblical grounding for returning to a smaller, more compassionate and organic farm model, for the well-being of both the animals and plants being raised, but also for the health of the land and environment entrusted to us.

- And finally, Jennifer Dykes Henson wrote an excellent piece for Relevant Magazine, "How Faith Connects to Food," which touches eloquently on the implications of our meat-laden diet for our health, animal welfare, the environment and world hunger.  She writes in part:

While we like to believe that our meat comes from healthy animals raised on Norman Rockwell-certified farms, that’s not the case. ...  Small, well-run farms have been virtually eliminated by factory farms that mass-produce animals as if they were widgets being prepared for shipment.

Vander Zee goes on to say, "Page through the psalms and notice how often animals are pictured as the objects of God’s care and delight (see Ps. 104).  Notice how the birds and animals chirp, bleat, and roar their praises to the Creator."  And he concludes that if animals hold such worth to God, than we need to see and treat them in a similar light. 

He points to a powerful book by Matthew Scully, Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy, which I couldn't recommend more highly.  Scully "reminds us that dominion means lordship, authority exercised with love and care.  It means caring especially for those creatures that are dependent on our care and mercy."  In direct contrast to this understanding of dominion as stewardship, Vander Zee bemoans the shift in the farming industry from "animal husbandry" to "factory farms," which violate the most basic decencies which God's creatures are entitled to.

Vander Zee points to other Christian examples of concern for animal welfare, including a powerful story from Bernard Rollin, professor of philosophy and animal sciences at Colorado State University.  Rollin recounts a talk he gave to 300 pig farmers in Ontario on caring for their animal charges, and the silence which followed.  But one farmer responded: "I have been feeling lousy for 15 years about how I raise these animals.  And so, in front of my peers, so I can’t back out later, I am pledging to tear down my confinement barn and build a barn I don’t have to be ashamed of!"

The article is a wonderful testament to the place for considering animal welfare in a solidly biblical and Christian light, as a matter of conscience and morality like any other issue we take up in faith.  And don't miss the second half of the farmer's story just alluded to, or Vander Zee's resounding conclusion ...

(originally posted 8/23/08; photo credit Bancha Atsawatawon/123rf.com)

“Back then helping animals just wasn’t done.  When I would see an animal that needed help I used to wonder why it affected me so much.  As I grew older I realised that what I had was a gift, a gift from God to love his creation.

I hope you'll have a chance to read more about Margaret and her work with Animals in Need in "Animals are God's Creation," which closes with another heartfelt quote from Margaret which I know all of us would lend a hearty amen to.  I'm grateful to Liz Jakimow for sharing this beautiful piece.

(photo credit Luna 123/123rf.com)

(thanks to Rosie Andre and many others for sharing; screenshot from Chipotle's "Back to the Start")

There were times in those first weeks that I was so baffled by this animal and so certain I could not ever understand what he needs, much less provide it, that the foster mom’s offer [to take Eddie back if necessary] was tempting.

But we are not giving Eddie up. ...  I figure that, whatever Eddie has been through, he deserves a safe place, along with a family that will not give him up, despite his quirks and fears and even his ability to lash out at us when we unknowingly remind him of how it feels to be unsafe.

(thanks to Karen Swallow Prior for sharing; photo (not of Eddie) credit Bonzami Emmanuelle/123rf.com)

Here are a few of the most memorable verses which point to that hope, grounded in the coming peaceful reign of Christ:

    For to us a child is born,
        to us a son is given;
    and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
        and his name shall be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
        Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6, ESV)

    There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse,
        and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.
    And the Spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him,
        the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,
        the Spirit of counsel and might,
        the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
    ... with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
        and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;
    ... The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,
        and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat,
    and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together;
        and a little child shall lead them. (Isaiah 11:1-6, ESV)

    “For behold, I create new heavens
        and a new earth,
    and the former things shall not be remembered
    ... The wolf and the lamb shall graze together;
        the lion shall eat straw like the ox,
        and dust shall be the serpent's food.
    They shall not hurt or destroy
        in all my holy mountain,”
                says the LORD. (Isaiah 65:17, 25; ESV)

I've wanted to share some modern-day glimpses of that peaceable kingdom to come, which I've been collecting over the last several months with your help, and this seemed like an appropriate moment to do so!  So here are several heartwarming and smile-inducing examples of interspecies friendship and bonding:

• Five goats and five sheep help guide Sissy, a blind 15-year-old quarter horse at Deer Haven Ranch north of Yellowstone, a private animal rescue sanctuary which recently took all of them in.
• A dog and piglet, Susie and Tabitha, get a kick out of rough-housing together at Hillside Animal Sanctuary in the UK.
• An owl and a cat, Fum and Gebra, enjoy playing and hanging out together; and Annie the dog (perhaps somewhat nervously) tolerates some careful grooming by Artemis the owl by way of his beak and talons:

• Herbie and Jabby, a horse and puppy, enjoy some cuddling (if hyperactive on the part of the dog) together.
• An orphaned 6-month-old baboon adopts an orphaned bush baby (or galago) at Kenya Wildlife Service center.
• A sheep bravely helps an orphaned elephant calf overcome his grief and begin to thrive again at Shamwari Game Reserve near Cape Town, South Africa (a National Geographic video):

• Shooter, a massive elk at an Idaho zoo, gently rescues a marmot from his watering trough.
• A cat appears to help soothe a crying baby to sleep.
• And finally, even more wonderful stories, videos and photos are available at MSNBC.com's "Unlikely Friends: Why We Love Odd Animal Pairs," and in several of our previous blog posts as well.

Thanks very much to Connie, Ginni, Karen, Lee, Michael, Michel, Holy Cuteness and others for passing along these stories and clips!

("Peace" by William Strutt, 1896, via Wikimedia Commons)

The Good Good Pig does in fact tell the story of a fine pig, dubbed Christopher Hogwood after the conductor and musicologist by the same name.  Christopher was born a sickly and tiny runt, and was spared an early death by a kind farmer who couldn't bring himself to do the deed: "George would take him out to the manure pile, intending to dispatch him quickly with a blow to the head from his shovel.  But George would watch the little piglet-his soulful eyes, his big floppy ears, his admirable will to live-and just couldn't do it" (pg. 9).

Well, Christopher ended up the pampered guest of Sy and her husband, and quickly came to be the affable ruler of his territory, growing to a venerable fourteen years and 750 pounds.  He oozed a hefty amount of personality and joie de vivre in return for the delicacy-laden slops, baths, and general love which was lavished on him by his owners and an entire community which gathered around him, including a hurting single mother and two girls who lived next door.  The story of Sy's border collie Tess woven throughout, the survivor of a horrific car accident and the world's most serious frisbee participant, adds even more to the story. 

As a reader, I felt like I was part of that community, and it was a very warm feeling.  And I admit, it was that much harder to eat pork going forward!  Sy weaves an excellent tale throughout, and brings it to an inevitable but highly dignified close.  Her perspective on life and faith is more broadly spiritual than specifically Christian, which may raise a believing reader's eyebrow from time to time.  But on the whole, The Good Good Pig is a must read for any animal lover, and communicates a message about the individual wonder and dignity of animal existence, not to mention the possibilities for animal-human bonding (and healing), which is perfectly consistent with our faith.

(originally posted 7/1/08)

Growing up at the height of Jaws fever, I still get nervous every time I wade knee-deep into the ocean.  I know my galeophobia is unfounded, but until this year, I had no idea how much so.  True, shark attacks -- always media sensations -- result in about five fatalities annually.  We humans, however, are biting back by killing 73-100 million sharks each year.  In the span of a few decades, the ocean's top predators, including the great white, which has endured for 16 million years, have become our prey.  At least one-third of shark species are now threatened with extinction.

Sharks, which mature late and produce few young, are being decimated in large part by the lucrative trade in shark fins.  Shark fin soup, a delicacy signaling wealth and status, now sells for up to $100 per bowl in China.  The value of the fins is far greater than the rest of the carcass, so out of convenience or ignorance the fishermen capture the sharks, cut off their fins, and then toss them back into the ocean, often still alive, to bleed to death.  Just last month a story reveals that 2,000 shark carcasses were discovered at the bottom of the sea off the coast of Colombia.  The brutal report is made even more sickening when you do the math.  Shark finning results in such a death toll every 15-20 minutes.  Realizing this prompted me to write this piece, taking my first small step toward doing something, anything, to stop it.

As with any cause I take up, I start by asking myself, "Why now?"  Tragic and senseless as it is, shark finning has not been at the top of my priority list.  There are many reasons why this is not the choice pet issue for the average Westerner.  After all, this atrocity is happening on the other side of the world in a culture very different from ours.  We don't eat shark fin soup, so we don't feel responsible for its consumption.  Besides, with crises such as hunger and malnourishment threatening 1 billion people -- and the economic fears looming over the rest of us -- we frankly have more pressing concerns.  At least those have been my excuses until now.

But come, let us reason together.  Over half of the world's people depend on the ocean for their primary food source.  Today, due to overfishing, we risk losing sharks -- and tens of thousands of other species we depend on -- to what scientists are calling the sixth great extinction, unique to the last five in history for one reason: humans are causing it.  Ecologically speaking, as goes the shark, so goes the rest of creation.

A Face Only the Father Could Love

Most of us are programmed to feel threatened by sharks and consequently, we objectify them, fear them, and increasingly destroy them.   This may be a human response, but it is not a faithful one.  Facing facts, we are confronted by an undeniable paradox: we must find a way to preserve a creature that scares us.  How do we ignite our moral conviction and desire for justice to take action to protect a creature as unsympathetic as the shark?

To begin, we might try perceiving sharks as God would. When he gazes on these exquisite beasts of his own making, what does he see?  We can find clues in the bible.  In the book of Job, for instance, God responds to Job's sorrowful criticism by demonstrating his power through such examplars of his creation as behemoth and leviathan, as well as more familiar members of his animal kingdom:

"Have you given the horse its strength 
or clothed its neck with a flowing mane?  Did you give it the ability to leap like a locust?
  Its majestic snorting is something to hear!
  It paws the earth and rejoices in its strength.  When it charges to war,
 it is unafraid.  It does not run from the sword. ...

"Are you the one who makes the hawk soar and spread its wings to the south?  
Is it at your command that the eagle rises to the heights to make its nest?" (Job 39:19-22, 26-27; NLT)

Could not sharks, lions of the sea, represent another mighty testament to God's glory?  If we accept that sharks are an intentional, even magnificent, part of creation, but then continue to look the other way and ignore them in their distress -- well, it reminds me of the parable of the Good Samaritan.  Fortunately for sharks, there are some prominent marine biologists, conservationists, and volunteers working feverishly to curb this massacre.  They could use our help.  Will we offer it to them?

Ben DeVries, creator of Not One Sparrow: A Christian Voice for Animals, offers an eloquent explanation for Christians' lack of engagement on such issues in his capstone paper on the biblical-theological foundation for animal welfare for the Trinity Evangelical Divinity School:

The call to governance has most often been traditionally understood in terms of humanity's entitlement to rule over creation and its creatures as we see fit, doing with and taking from it what we will so that our own needs, and often desires, are accommodated with unremitting precedence.  Because of this flawed and hugely disastrous assumption, God's elemental intention for our governance has been grossly neglected.  His will was, and remains, that we would not be self-focused dominators or oppressors of creation in any respect, but that we would be humble and compassionate stewards of all that he has made and forever retains providence over.  I have found, however, that there is an ever-broadening and perhaps nearly unanimous consensus in recent evangelical understanding that the mandates to "rule" and "subdue," even the traditional "have dominion" (KJV), need to be understood in terms of stewardship and caring for creation, with the notions of modesty and service, tending and nurturing which this guiding paradigm contributes to our conception of rulership and administration.

Ben's research and that of other Christian animal welfare advocates underscores a clear truth revealed throughout the bible, starting on page 1 and stated over seven times in Genesis alone: God made the animals and saw that it was good.

As with so many other modern problems, the bible does not spell out precisely what we are to do about shark finning.  Nevertheless, to disregard the evidence that we are to be responsible stewards of God's creation, which includes "the great creatures of the sea and every living and moving thing with which the water teems" would be a sin and a shame.  The biodiversity of the sea -- from the sleek mako and the uncommon hammerhead to the formidable whale shark and even the misunderstood and maligned great white -- presents striking specimens of God's handiwork.  These are all the inspiration that I need to protect them.

But an important question still remains.  How do we translate good intentions into meaningful results?

What You Can Do

This issue, like so many other tragedies in our world, may be too big for any one of us to take on, but we can make an important difference by lending our support to those on the front lines.  Here are several very worthy campaigns and resources to follow:

SeaStewards
Stop Shark Finning
Global Shark Conservation from Pew Environment Group

Regarding legislation, here's what I've learned so far.  We cannot stop demand but we can cut off supply, each one of us in our own corner of the world.  In January 2011, President Barack Obama signed the Shark Conservation Act into law to close the loopholes of the 2000 Shark Finning Prohibition Act.  At the state level, Hawaii became the first state to ban the possession, sale, and distribution of shark fins, effective on July 1, 2011.  Similar laws have been enacted in the states of Washington, Oregon and California, and in Guam and the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands.

For my part, I am using this opportunity to get involved politically to initiate legislation in Texas, where over 200 restaurants still serve shark fin soup.  If you have an interest in exploring this issue for your state, I invite you to contact me and I will be glad to help support your efforts, too.

(many thanks to Anna for sharing "Sharks in Peril: Humanity Takes a Bite out of Creation," originally posted at Evangelical Environmental Network's The Creation Care Blog, and for the kind reference to my seminary paper; please check out more of Anna's excellent blog and her book Green, American Style which we reviewed last year; photos respectively credit cbpix & Paul Vinten/123rf.com and the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration via Wikimedia Commons of confiscated shark fins)

Please remember, whether you're able to follow Baur's particular suggestions or not, any effort to eat more compassionately is a commendable and God-honoring one.  If you'd like more advice or encouragement along these lines, please check out some of our previous posts on factory farmed as opposed to more humanely raised animal products, as well as faith-informed approaches to different degrees of vegetarianism and veganism.  Or please feel free to ask a question in the comments or send a personal message. 

Regardless, a most happy and meaningful new year to you, your family and the animals you care about!

(photo credit 123rf.com)

One of the many key indications of the reliability of the Bible is its addressing the broad span of the reality of life on earth.  I’m only vaguely knowledgeable of the scriptures of other religions, but I think it’s safe to say that the Bible is unparalleled in its “heart” for animals—from their origin to their destiny.  They were created by God before mankind (Gen. 1), they were put under man’s authority and responsibility (Gen. 1:20-30; Psalm 8:4-8), they were saved from destruction in the flood (Gen. 7:6-10), and they are remembered by their Creator who covenanted with them that they would continue under His protection and in His care (Gen. 9:8-16).

Further, animals are to be treated well and with kindness (Prov. 12:10), they are celebrated by their Creator and the ancient psalmists (Job 38-40; Psalm 104), they are loved by the Lord (Psa. 145:9), and they suffer under the curse and under the abuse of mankind, yet with hope shared with the rest of creation of gaining the same freedom and experiencing the same glory that will come to “the children of God” (Rom. 8:18-25).  Perhaps most amazing of all is that they will be present in the coming “peaceable kingdom” (Isa. 11:6-9) and will join with the saved in singing the praise of their Creator/Savior at the end of days—the One who is identified as an innocent animal: the Lamb who was slain for our sin (Rev. 5:6-14).

KEY SCRIPTURE:

The creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies (Rom. 8:19-22).

Knowing all of this from God’s Holy Word about the animals that share the earth with us, we have a great deal to think about regarding them.  I believe one fair conclusion is that as Bible-believers and followers of Christ the Creator, we should be the key “people for the ethical treatment of animals” even though we may have problems with PETA and their actions and philosophy.

It’s important for us to give consideration to the thinking of saints who have gone before us and their compassion for animals—remembering, for one, William Wilberforce, who not only was the statesman most responsible for the abolition of slavery in England, but also one of the founders of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in 1824.

Earlier still was John Wesley, who in his sermon “The General Deliverance” (1788) expressed the following in reference to Paul’s statement about the fate of the creation in Romans 8:

[The animals] could not sin, for they were not moral agents.  Yet how severely do they suffer!  Yea, many of them, beasts of burden in particular, almost the whole time of their abode on earth—so that they can have no retribution here below.  But the objection vanishes away if we consider that something better remains after death for these poor creatures also!  That these likewise shall one day be delivered from this bondage of corruption and shall then receive ample amends for all their present suffering.

One more excellent end may undoubtedly be answered by the preceding considerations: They may encourage us to imitate him whose mercy is over all his works.  They may soften our hearts towards the meaner creatures, knowing that the Lord careth for them.  It may enlarge our hearts towards those poor creatures to reflect that, as vile as they appear in our eyes, not one of them is forgotten in the sight of our Father which is in heaven.  Through all the vanity to which they are now subjected, let us look to what God hath prepared for them.  Yea, let us habituate ourselves to look forward, beyond this present scene of bondage, to the happy time when they will be delivered therefrom into the liberty of the children of God. (emphasis added)

I confess that I’m not sure what to think about everything Wesley concludes (a similar view was expressed by George MacDonald).  The Bible gives us no assurance about a “resurrection” of individual animals.  Nor does it make clear which of the prophetic visions including animals are more figurative than literal.  But there’s more than enough in Scripture to convict me and make me realize that there’s much soul-searching I need to do in reference to my own compassion and care for animals and the habitats that make their lives possible.

(sincere thanks to Dean for sharing "God's Compassion for Animals," originally posted at The Wonder of Creation; I'm grateful to Dean for all the wonderful posts he's shared with us this past year; "Animals Boarding Noah's Ark from Jacopo Bassano workshop (1510-92) via Wikimedia Commons, "The Peaceable Kingdom" by Edward Hicks (1780-1849) via Wikimedia Commons)

When you were young, did anyone ever tell you that animals can talk at midnight on Christmas?  I don’t remember who told me, but I do remember looking expectantly at our family Dachshund for several years on Christmas Eve.  For the record, he never said anything.  At least not in a human language.

A quick internet search didn’t turn up much about the origins of this legend, which is a little surprising and frustrating in this day of easy on-line research.  But it does give us the space to speculate and theologize a bit.

There is a longing in children to talk with animals.  What else explains the Doctor Dolittle stories?  What else explains the long, one-sided talks between a child and a patient dog or cat (or horse or hamster)?

I wonder if that longing isn’t the remnant of our memory of the way things were supposed to be.  Somehow as children we know that our relationship with animals is not what is should be.  A child should be able to put her hand near the wasp, and we should not have to flee from a bear or run from a lion.  As children we long for the harmony which we know is missing from the world.

That missing harmony begins to be set right at Christmas.  Long before we have the theological language to describe it, we know that when Jesus is born, God come among us, the healing has begun.  The Good News is here.  At the birth of Jesus, the incarnation, heaven and earth are joined.  Angels and shepherds sing, and legend suggests that even the animals joined in the praise.  The world was set right for a moment. 

The underlying assumption of this legend is that the animals know God and are in relationship with God.  Until we get talked out of it, many of us start with the very Biblical assumption that all of creation, everything and everyone, can praise God.  Animals, in their animal way, praise God.  And on Christmas, we humans may be given a glimpse of the reality of animals.

I’m a grown person now, well past the age of childhood dreams.  But yet, each Christmas I catch myself  looking at my cats and hoping this is the Christmas they speak.  Hoping this is the Christmas that the world is set right.  May it be so …

(originally posted 12/24/09; many thanks to Nancy, a valued contributor, for sharing "Talking to the Animals on Christmas Eve," first posted on her blog Conversation in Faith; photo copyright Beth Van Trees/123rf.com; "The Peaceable Kingdom" painting by American folk artist and Quaker minister Edward Hicks (1780-1849), via CGFA/Wikimedia Commons)

In the barn on Christmas Eve,
After all the people leave,
The animals, in voices low,
Remember Christmas long ago ...

Written by Gale Wiersum, The Animals' Christmas Eve was originally published in 1977 (Western Publishing, see cover).  The original illustrations, though a bit dated and occasionally somewhat Anglo-Saxon, are quaintly attractive and remind me of Sunday School illustrations of a generation or two back.  An updated version of the book was released a few years ago, with more contemporary illustrations as you can see here. 

I look foward to reading The Animals' Christmas Eve to my toddler son tomorrow night, and hope you'll have a chance to share it with the children in your own life some Christmas Eve.

Speaking of animals on Christmas Eve, it's hard to do so without thinking of the traditional carol "The Friendly Beasts."  A finer tribute to the animals present at Jesus' birth could hardly be imagined, and following are a couple of renditions which celebrate the songs through a child's innocent eye and voice.  First is Sufjan Steven's whimsical version of the hymn from his Songs for Christmas collection, accompanied by delightful illustrations from little Ethan:

Secondly, this is a comely rendition from the Cedarmont Kids, with the video set in a stable alongside real animals:

I think it's safe to say that the presence of humble farm animals at the nativity, both at the manger and in the fields, shouldn't be overlooked when we think of God's intention to include all of his beloved creatures in his redemption plans.  A redemption made possible by the humble entrance of Christ into the world:

Jesus our brother, kind and good,
Was humbly born in a stable rude,
And the friendly beasts around Him stood,
Jesus our brother, kind and good.
("The Friendly Beasts," modern lyrics by Robert Davis)

By the way, please don't miss Nancy Janisch's great post "Talking to the Animals on Christmas Eve," which touches on that redemption.  In what's becoming an annual tradition, we'll be posting it again tomorrow.