As you can see from the title, I’m taking a second bite at whether Fido might—or might not—be present in the world to come.
Now don’t get your hopes up. It’s not as if I’ve suddenly come up with a definitive answer to last week’s question. I haven’t. I still have no proof that earthly animals will be resurrected and taken to heaven. But I have gleaned even more evidence about God’s concern for animals. So let’s look at a few additional passages of scripture.
In Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5, we have two versions of the Ten Commandments. Both versions have a Sabbath commandment that calls for a day of rest from labor—for the entire family, for the servants and slaves, and for the animals. Allow me to reiterate: The once-a-week day of rest is for animals as well as for humans.
There’s actually a third iteration of the Sabbath command that’s focused primarily on the animals—beasts of burden, we once called them—and employees at the lowest levels of humanity’s social pecking order. This commandment seems to presuppose that the owner class won’t need much reminding to get their day of rest. But those at the bottom echelons may not be so fortunate, unless that need is put into a rule. So note the following:
“Six days do your work, but on the seventh day do not work, so that your ox and your donkey may rest, and so that the slave born in your household and the foreigner living among you may be refreshed” (Exodus 23:12).
Believe it or not, pulling a plow all day or carrying some form of cargo on their back for long distances leaves animals weary. Bone tired, we might say. They need recovery time just as much as—if not more than—the humans who are overseeing their work. Thus, it seems, God takes specific steps to protect them. And I feel I’ve personally seen at least some evidence that the animals relish the day of rest God has prescribed on their behalf.
On our farm in Missouri, we had horses from my earliest recollections. We rode them for pleasure, but we also rode them to get to far-flung parts of the farm and to drive cattle from one field to another. My father was well acquainted with the Sabbath rules governing animals, so only in the most dire emergency would we ever ride a horse on Sabbath. Quite frankly, I don’t ever recall such an emergency having arisen.
Now in the movies, when the cowboy goes out to the field where his horse is grazing, he simply whistles and his horse immediately comes trotting over to him. Clearly, the horse loves his master. Which always made me highly envious—because our horses hated us.
When we appeared close to where they were grazing, they took one look at us and ran to the farthest corner of the field. We’d have to chase them into the barnyard to get them saddled and bridled.
But if we walked out into the field on Sabbath (Saturday), they would just continue grazing. Or they might even walk up and nuzzle us as if we were long-lost friends. It was truly uncanny.
It may be that there was some biorhythm that let them know that on Saturday there was no need to run to the far reaches of the field in an attempt to avoid having to wear themselves out on our behalf. Or it may be that they had come to recognize that on Saturdays we dressed differently. Or moved in much more leisurely fashion. Whatever it was that alerted them, they knew that on Saturdays it wasn’t business as usual.
But a weekly day of rest for animals is just one of the animal labor laws God delivered to the Israelites through his spokesman Moses. In Deuteronomy 22:10, we read: “Do not plow with an ox and donkey yoked together.”
Often when we read such commands in the Bible, we brush them aside and move on. Most of us don’t own either an ox or a donkey. Nor are we planning to purchase one in the near future. So those laws don’t apply to us, we probably assume. Yet the principles behind such commands may be more far-reaching than we at first recognize. And they may tell us a lot more about God’s character than we would have imagined.
The truth is, the divergent size and shape of donkeys and oxen makes it impossible to construct a yoke that guarantees that both the ox and the donkey are pulling equally. Length of stride and normal walking speed provide yet another reason not to “unequally yoke” different kinds of animals. And trying to do so is not only an inefficient use of animal strength and energy, it’s nothing short of animal cruelty. So God, through Moses, outlawed it.
Note the following additional commands about being kind to donkeys and oxen (Exodus 23:4-5): “If you come across your enemy’s ox or donkey wandering off, be sure to return it. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you fallen down under its load, do not leave it there; be sure you help them with it.”
Hatred of the owner of an ox or donkey might lead a person to take delight in seeing the animal of the hated in dire straits. But, through Moses, God says that kindness to a distressed animal must take precedence over a burning desire for revenge.
Deuteronomy 25:4 says: “Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.”
Back in those days, to get the grain from its husk, the stalks and the heads of grain were thrown into a confined circular area, and an ox was made to walk around and around and around, dragging a some type of weighted sled behind it. The ox’s feet, stepping on the heads of grain, dislodged grains from their husk, as did the sled the ox was dragging. The law said that you had to let the ox grab the occasional mouthful of stalk and grain as it trudged along.
I view the let-the-ox-eat rule as another sign of God’s concern for animals. Interestingly, though, the apostle Paul puts another spin on this command. In 1 Corinthians 9:9-10, we read: “‘Is it about oxen that God is concerned? Surely he says this for us, . . . ’”
Paul goes on to argue that an ox having the right to eat—i.e. get paid—while threshing the grain is a metaphor to teach us that preachers should get paid. I don’t disagree with that contention. In fact, I strongly support it—however mercenary my reasons may be! But I also think that the primary reason the command was given was because God cares about animals. Only secondarily is it in any way a mandate for ministers to be remunerated.
Here’s another passage of interest (Exodus 23:10-11): “For six years you are to sow your fields and harvest the crops, but during the seventh year let the land lie unplowed and unused. Then the poor among your people may get food from it, and the wild animals may eat what is left. Do the same with your vineyard and your olive grove” (emphasis added).
There’s a lot more that can be said. And there are more texts that can be cited. As I said at the beginning of this essay: “I still have no proof that earthly animals will be resurrected and taken to heaven.” But the more I study the Bible, the more convinced I become that God is definitely concerned about the wellbeing of animals as well as that of humans.