What Brady Taught Me About Eden

Honestly, I've been searching for a theology of pets. How should we think about these four-legged friends?

Sadly, I watched our dog Brady breathe his last breath on Monday night. He was sitting in the lap of my youngest son, who was weeping, having never known a day of life without Brady.

Having had a couple of ugly cries myself over the last few days, I have reflected a lot on why I am so emotional over the death of a domesticated subspecies of the wolf. How did a creature get into our hearts so thoroughly that his passing wounds us so deeply? What exactly is this feeling? Is it grief? And if so, is it justified to grieve the loss of a dog (or any animal, for that matter)? Shouldn't serious mourning be reserved for people only?

Honestly, I've been searching for a theology of pets. How should we think about these four-legged friends?

In God's kind providence, I am currently preaching through the first book of the Bible, Genesis. Something that stood out to me is that during the week of creation, creatures and humans share a few common features. Most obviously, they were both created on Friday. In addition, they were both made from dust. Animals and humans feed similarly. They both reproduce and enjoy God's blessing. Clearly, humans are distinct from animals, being uniquely created in the image of God. But we shouldn't miss the fact that humans share literally half of the creation account with animal life.

When you peer into the relationship our first parents, Adam and Eve, enjoyed with the animal world, it is surprisingly helpful. As it turns out, my dog Brady taught me a lot about Eden.

When God placed the first humans in the lush Garden of Eden, the relationship between humans and animals was harmonious and peaceful. There was no fear or threat of violence between the two. Like every other part of creation, it was very good. God nailed it!

We do not know much about that world beyond what we read in Scripture. Many, if not most, of the animals in our world today are considered wildlife. Included among them are predators and poisonous creatures that can harm us. We even hunt wildlife while wearing camouflage and spraying scent on ourselves to deceive them. So, trying to imagine all animal life peacefully interacting with and accompanying us throughout our daily lives seems almost extra-terrestrial. Yet that was the original blueprint.

In fact, the relationship between animals and the first human being was so harmonious that all the animals and birds paraded in front of Adam to receive their names (Genesis 2:19–20). Later, Eve interacts with the serpent in a fashion that suggests an earlier familiarity with the animal world. So, before the Fall, all animals were, in a sense, "domesticated."

Back to Brady.

Our thirteen years with Brady gave us a small glimpse into the pre-Fall relationship that the first humans enjoyed with animals. No predators. No poison. No fear. No violence. The nurturing (pampering, actually!) that we gladly gave Brady, taking him on vacations, buying him expensive treats, celebrating his birthday, letting him sleep on my son's bed, getting his hair done at the groomer, all reflected something of the warm, interactive relationship humans originally enjoyed with animals in Eden.

Wow! That helps!

Even our relationship with our pets points back to God's original design.

Then sin happened. Everything changed.

In the temptation, Satan embodied one of the animals, the serpent. As a result of the Fall, all relationships were devastatingly disrupted, including the relationship between animals and humans. Friendship and companionship gave way to fear and avoidance. This change is explicitly stated in Genesis 9:2: "The fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth."

Fear was not part of the original created order. It represented a tragic fracture in the relationship between humans and animals.

To every pet lover, and to everyone who has grieved the passing of a beloved, faithful, furry friend, I think we have adequate biblical warrant to do so. In our relationship with Brady, we enjoyed a small taste of the harmony and affection that humans and animals were originally created to share. We were experiencing something that belonged to God's “very good” created world. So when that relationship is severed by death, it hurts. Deeply. And it should.

But that wasn't the final lesson Brady taught me.

It's not merely a longing for a world that once was. It's also a glimpse of a world that will be.

Because in the new heaven and new earth, we will once again enjoy a harmonious relationship with the created order. Passages like Isaiah 11:6–9 describe a world where the wolf dwells with the lamb, and a little child leads them. There will be a restoration of the harmony that existed before sin entered the world.

Back to Eden.

And all of this restoration, the renewal that we and the whole creation long for, is only possible because our Creator became a man. Through His death and resurrection, Jesus Christ is reconciling all things to Himself. What sin disrupted, Christ will restore. What the curse fractured, Christ will heal.

Praise be to God for pets!

Thank you for thirteen years of tail wags, walks, running together, family memories, and faithful companionship. Thank you for reminding our family of a world we have lost and a world that is coming. In God's common grace, you gave us a small glimpse of Eden, through our “Cocker-Labradoodle.”

Thank you, Brady.