Theological and spiritual questions about animals today. On the souls of non-human animals

Rodolphe Blanchard-Kowel discusses his work into animal theology

A new branch of Christian theology known as animal theology argues that God’s salvation extends to all of creation, not just humanity. Represented by pioneering figures such as Andrew Linzey and David Clough, this theological perspective critiques historical doctrines, particularly those based on the work of Thomas Aquinas, which deny animals an immortal soul. These common Christian teachings, which are ingrained in our civilisation, lack biblical support and have historically been used to justify animal exploitation, or at least contributed to it. Drawing on modern scientific understanding of evolution and biblical interpretations of a universal ‘breath of life’, animal theology posits that all living beings possess a soul. Theological implications include a new ethical framework in which humans are called to be a ‘servant species’, promoting the flourishing of all creatures as intended by God.

In the last decade of the 20th century and at the beginning of the 21st, a new branch of Christian theology emerged: animal theology. It is mainly represented by two English theologians: Andrew Linzey and David Clough. These theologians aim to consider animals from a theological perspective within a tradition that has always centred on human beings. Linzey and Clough have unlocked Christian doctrines that previously prevented the conceptualisation of salvation for non-human animals.

Animal theology affirms that all those whom God created out of love, God also wants to reconcile and save. It is argued that salvation, which Christians have for centuries considered to be for the exclusive benefit of the human species, because of its extraordinary qualities, turns out in reality to be for the benefit of the whole of creation. “You save humans and animals alike, O Lord” (NRSVA, Ps 36:6), sings the psalmist. “All things have been created through him and for him”; “for in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things”, the apostles proclaimed to the very first Christian communities (Col 1:16f, 19, 20a; emphasis ours). Animal theology claims that what God gives to humans (reconciliation, redemption), God gives analogously to other animal species. This in no way detracts from the specificity of the human species, which is, according to Linzey, a vocation to be the servant species, following the example of Christ who, although divine, emptied himself of his divinity in order to become a servant and place himself at the service of the weakest. For Linzey, “the special value of humankind consists in the generosity of God: Creator, Reconciler and Redeemer”.¹ Similarly, for Clough, human beings have a special vocation. In ethical terms, it is a call to “take responsibility for the lives of other creatures.”²

The historical problem of the immortal soul

The soul is not a very common entry in Protestant theology. However, animal theology must address this concept if it is to resolve the problems posed by the inclusion of non- human animals in a theology that proclaims God’s salvation for the whole of creation. The soul is found in the questions raised by Thomas Aquinas in his Summa Theologica in the 13th century.

Aquinas draws a distinction between man (in ancient theology, the subject is always man, not man and woman or human beings), who he claims has a rational and immortal soul, and animals, which do not. Only humans are endowed with a natural capacity for eternal life. “Aquinas does suggest, in line with what is popularly assumed to be Catholic belief, that animals will not participate in the eschaton [i.e.: the last things] because their souls are not immortal.”³ According to Aquinas, animals are inferior to humans in the order of things. By this logic, therefore, they are destined to be used by humans and cannot be loved with Christian love. For Linzey, this notion of a rational and immortal soul in Aquinas’ theology is a direct import of Aristotle’s philosophy. This notion is not biblical. “All that Aquinas does is to give these essentially Greek ideas a scriptural and/or theological overwriting.⁴ We can see that the criticism levelled at Aquinas is harsh. It is obviously not a question of simplifying or even caricaturing Aquinas’ position and blaming him for all the misfortunes that animals have suffered in the history of the Christian West. However, animal theologians have identified a historical line in philosophy and theology that considers animals in general to be creatures that have no immortal soul, or no soul at all, and are therefore outside the scope of divine salvation.

This theological and philosophical line begun by Aquinas culminated in the 17th century with René Descartes’ definition of the animal machine. However, according to Élisabeth de Fontenay, it was Nicolas Malebranche who gave the coup de grâce to animals in the history of philosophy. For Malebranche, there is in animals “neither intelligence nor soul as is ordinarily understood. They eat without pleasure, they cry without pain, they grow without knowing it, they desire nothing, they fear nothing, they know nothing; and if they act in a way that shows intelligence, it is because God, having made them to preserve them, has made them in such a way that they mechanically and fearlessly avoid everything that is capable of destroying them”⁵ (emphasis ours). This is an extreme statement. It undoubtedly needs to be viewed with caution, as an extract from a philosophical work that contains many more developments on the subject. It does, however, reflect historical thinking that has justified a certain approach to non-human animals, and it is important to note that the consequences of this approach can be considerable, particularly in ethical terms. If animals do not really have a soul, or at least not a rational and immortal soul like that of humans, then they have an inferior status to us. This opens the door to cruelty that we would not dare inflict on any of us.

Contemporary breakthroughs

A lot of water has flowed under the bridges of Western science, philosophy and theology since the 17th century. The theory of evolution formulated by Charles Darwin in 1859, subsequently perfected by scientists, and added to by advances in biology and genetics over the course of the 20th century, has revolutionised our perception of the world and the place humans occupy in it. The theory of evolution places the human species in an evolutionary continuum in the company of a multitude of animal species that surround humans and with which they share most of what constitutes them. Moral thought, and theology in particular, have been slow to react.

As the animal theologian Christopher Steck puts it: “The fact that the human/all-else contrast effectively places creatures as diverse as Koko, the linguistically talented gorilla, and fleas on the same level had not until recently provoked any theological disquiet.”⁶ Not any more. This opposition has become untenable. Humans and non-human animals must now be considered on the same level, and if one has an immortal soul, so do the others. Advances in animal theology allow us to affirm that all animals – in fact all living beings ─ have a soul: the universal soul.

The universal soul

How can we imagine this universal soul and how does it manifest itself in the world? In a theology of living creatures, the living soul or living being, whether human or animal, receives the breath of life (Gen 2:7, 19), given by God. “You send forth your spirit, they are created” (Ps 104:30a; note that spirit and breath are synonyms in the Old Testament). This is the fundamental concept that defines the existence of a being and the factors that make that being special, both in terms of its body and individuality and in terms of its belonging to a particular species within creation. Each creature appears in a given environment at a given time with its own individual and species characteristics. It becomes active at different levels in its environment, depending on the characteristics of its species. The integrity of a single-cell organism or a higher mammal does not have the same characteristics. It is not for humans to judge God’s creatures or God’s creation. All are animated by the Spirit of God. God has entrusted man and woman to co-rule the world with goodness and generosity, in the way of Christ, that is, in service to the weakest, in the spirit of healing, liberation and the power of resurrection shown by Christ in the Gospels.

Living organisms of different species interact with the environment in different ways, using different modes of perception and depending on their physical characteristics. In human terms, each individual has the physical and sensory means to move, feed and reproduce. In addition, there is a social and language dimension that also constitutes the integrity of a subject. It is a symbolic and virtual space in which human life unfolds, flourishes, decays and is resurrected. The interactions of humans with other creatures, whether human or non-human, can be described in biological terms, along a spectrum ranging from the most altruistic action to that which is most destructive of the other (altruism, cooperation, symbiosis, parasitism and predation). Any interaction between creatures mutually reinforces their integrity, and either protects their souls or destroys them. The concept of what diminishes or destroys the integrity of the other is sin. The divine breakthrough made in the world by the incarnation of Jesus Christ shows and teaches human beings the forms of interaction intended by the Creator ─ his/her will. God’s will is everything that promotes the existence of others and mutually fulfilling relationships. “I am life which wills to live, in the midst of life which wills to live”⁷, proclaim living beings through the voice of Dr Albert Schweitzer, while Christ declares: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (Jn 10:10)

Animals appear and manifest their souls

Humans need to understand beyond their rationality and open their poetic imagination to have the best chance of seeing the soul of animals. This happens in the contemplation of wild spaces, in art or poetry. It’s a colourful, swift bird that appears at the turn of a bush.

Animals appear and reveal their souls. Inspired by his reading of Hans Urs von Balthasar’s Theo-Drama, Christopher Steck sees in each creature “an irruption in time and space of the free and personal choice of God for that creature; its life is not simply a ‘being-there,’[...] but a movement outward from its hidden source. In being what it is ─ in its appearance to the other ─ a creature is active and thus has a kind of agency.”⁸ In the same vein, Christopher Southgate quotes the English poet Gerard Hopkins, whose sonnet ‘As kingfishers catch fire’⁹ expresses better than thought how the inner being of animals manifests itself, notably in this expression: “What I do is me: for that I came.” (emphasis by the author).

In the Gospels, Jesus often uses animals in his parables of the Kingdom or in his discourses, but he is particularly revealed as divine through two epiphanies (which is only a learned word for an appearance or a manifestation) involving non-human animals: the dove that descends from heaven accompanied by the voice that says: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” (Mt 3:17), and John the Baptist who exclaims: “Here is the Lamb of God!” (Jn 1:29a). How could these animals, a dove and a lamb, placed at the forefront of revelations of the highest spiritual level, be considered as having no soul?

The views expressed by our Research News contributors are not necessarily the views of The Vegan Society.

References

1. Andrew Linzey, Animal Theology, University of Illinois Press ed (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1995), p. 31.
2. David Clough, On Animals. Volume 1: Systematic Theology (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2013), p. 76.
3. Christopher W. Steck, All God’s Animals: A Catholic Theological Framework for Animal Ethics, The Moral Traditions Series (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2019)., p. 9.
4. Andrew Linzey, Animal Theology (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1995), p. 18.
5. « ni intelligence, ni âme comme on l’entend ordinairement. Ils mangent sans plaisir, ils crient sans douleur, ils croissent sans le savoir, ils ne désirent rien, ils ne craignent rien, ils ne connaissent rien ; et s’ils agissent de manière qui marque l’intelligence, c’est que Dieu les ayant faits pour les conserver, ils les a faits de telle façon qu’ils évitent machinalement et sans crainte tout ce qui est capable de les détruire » Nicolas Malebranche, De la recherche de la vérité, t. 2 (Paris: André Pralard, 1674-1675), p. 255. Cited by Élisabeth de Fontenay, Le silence des bêtes: la philosophie à l’épreuve de l’animalité (Paris: Éd. Points, 2013), p. 404.
6. Christopher W. Steck, All God’s Animals: A Catholic Theological Framework for Animal Ethics (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2019), p. 68.
7. Albert Schweitzer, The Philosophy of Civilization, New York, 1959 (Whitefish, MT: Kessinger Publ., 2010), p. 309.
8. Christopher W. Steck, All God’s Animals: A Catholic Theological Framework for Animal Ethics (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2019), p. 147.
9. “Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: