God and all Living Things

In the simplest telling of Jesus’ wilderness temptations we are told that Jesus was driven into the wilderness by the Spirit, and was tempted by Satan for forty days. During that time angels waited on him and he was with the wild beasts. We are told nothing more and all else is up to our imagination. In my imagination I was drawn to the wild beasts. What did it mean to be with them?

One of our delights in coming to upstate New York for us was an introduction to many new wild beasts. In the United Kingdom, human development means that the native animals have all been driven away. It was rare to see animals other than sheep and cows; perhaps the occasional fox. Now, in our own back yard we often have deer (a herd of nine is quite usual), opossums, woodchucks, squirrels, a whole colony of chipmunks, raccoons, and skunks. The bird life is amazing, too, with at least five kinds of woodpecker as regular visitors. I have often sat outside when the weather is warmer with a deer grazing no more than six feet away. On one occasion, I was in kneeling mediation and a chipmunk scampered over my toes and began washing herself not two feet away.

In the mystical tradition there are many stories of monastics (often in the wilderness or the forest) with companion animals—not merely dogs and cats but all manner of wild beasts. My thoughts below are from a forthcoming book chapter in a collection on religion and animals.

“Whilst seeking ultimate reality led many mystics to shun the company of other human beings, their search led them toward the friendship of nonhuman animals. Myths surrounding mystics often seem unlikely as history. It is not necessary to claim them as such. Their many animal narratives provide a strong tradition of care for nonhumans. Whether Saint Cuthbert’s feet were literally dried by his friends, the sea otters, on return from a night of prayer in the ice-cold sea, is beside the point. What matters is the conglomeration of stories about animals associated with mystics.

“Helen Waddell translated many of these animal narratives from Latin into English (Waddell and Gibbings 1934). She focused on legends from the desert fathers and mothers from the fourth century, and Celtic traditions from the sixth and seventh centuries. Both traditions sit broadly within the mystical corpus. Edward Sellner (1993) also compiled stories of Celtic mystics. In these stories, hermits, having chosen a life of solitude, encounter animals in delightful ways. Universally, the relationship between mystic and animal is positive. Though there is some sentimentalizing of animal behavior, animals continue to exhibit animal-like behavior. A few instances suffice to make the point.

“From Waddell (Waddell and Gibbings 1995):

• A desert monk whose sole friend is an ox and who feeds a lion dates by hand (3–5).
• A horse that mourns before Columba’s death. Columba calls the horse “this lover of mine” (42–45).
• A lion that is helped by abbot Gerasimus and then becomes the abbot’s disciple. On the abbot’s death the lion is distraught and lies on the old man’s grave, where he dies (23–26).
• A wolf shares a monk’s bread and then becomes penitent after stealing bread in the monk’s absence (6–7).
• Macarius who heals the eyes of a hyena’s whelp. The hyena brings a sheepskin to the saint, who refuses it: “As that which thou has brought to me comes of violence, I will not take it” (13). The saint rebukes the hyena and makes her promise that “I will not kill a creature alive” but from that day will only eat what is already dead. If the hyena can find no dead animals, then the monk promises to feed her on his own bread (12–14).


“From Sellner (1993):

• Ciaran befriends a fox, who carries Ciaran’s psalter. The mystic hides the fox under his cowl when hounds come hunting the fox (80–81).
• A stag visits Ciaran and allows the monk to use his horns as a reading stand (82–83).
• In the story of Kevin, “one Lent a blackbird came from the woods to his hut and hopped on the palm as he lay on the flagstone with his hand stretched out. Kevin kept his hand so the blackbird would have a place to build her nest. He remained there until she had hatched her brood” (161).


“Animals work alongside monks but are not called upon to do anything overly burdensome. Mystics, more often than not, show sympathy, kindness, and protection toward their animal friends.

“Perhaps, the mystic most well known for relationship with animals is Francis of Assisi. Again, we are dealing with hagiography, and many of the stories are historically suspect. Nonetheless, the Franciscan tradition of kindness toward animals is important. Thomas of Celano (died ca.1260) wrote three volumes about Francis shortly after his death. Thomas says of Francis, “He was a man of great fervor, feeling much sweetness and piety even toward lesser, irrational creatures” (Armstrong and Brady, 74). Francis talked regularly to animals and exhorted them to love God. The “irrational creatures” in their turn “sensed the sweetness of his love” (75). Francis’s concern included all creatures: “He had the same tender feeling toward fish. When he had the chance he threw back live fish that had been caught, and warned them not to be caught again” (75). And further on:

Even for worms he had a warm love, since he had read this text about the Savior: I am a worm and not a man. That is why Francis used to pick worms up from the road, and put them in a safe place, so that they would not be crushed. (90)

“Stories of Francis are stories of tenderness toward waterbirds, bees, pheasants, and a singing cricket whom Francis calls “my sister cricket!” (275).

“Besides animal narratives, the prayers and poems of mystics offer a glimpse of their relationship toward animals. Alexander Carmichael, in the late nineteenth century, traveled the highlands and islands of Scotland, listened to the old Gaelic prayers, poems, incantations, and charms, and translated them into English. Though it is unlikely that these delightful runes go back to the early Celtic church, it is clear that they are part of a long and unbroken tradition rooted in the premodern world. These poems reveal a world in which animals are greatly respected and loved, used by humans to be sure, but given a more intrinsic than instrumental value:

The charm placed of Brigit
About her neat, about her kine,
About her horses, about her goats,
About her sheep, about her lambs;

Each day and each night,
In heat and in cold,
Each early and late,
In Darkness and light;

To keep them from marsh,
To keep them from rock,
To keep them from pit,
To keep them from bank. (Carmichael 1992, 339–40)

“And further on,

Give the milk, my treasure,
Give quietly, with steady flow,
Give the milk, my treasure,
With steady flow and calmly. (346)


“It would be overly optimistic to expect to find, in the Western mystical tradition, a full-blown understanding of animal rights. Nonetheless, taken together, the theoria of the mystics (that all is/are One, that the divine is in all, an ethic of compassionate love for all) and their praxis (shown in tender stories about animals and in prayers, poems, and incantations) suggest a way of life deeply sympathetic to animal advocacy.”

This is a delightful tradition that encompasses all as cared for by God and in unity in God’s wonderful world.

Excerpts from: “Birds, Beasts, and Saints: Western Mysticism and the Love of Animals,” in Anthony Nocella (ed) Call to Compassion: Religion and Animal Advocay, New York: Lantern Books, forthcoming.

+Ab. Andy