Only humans were given this ability to reason. Only humans have the ability to make moral decisions for or against God. The plan of salvation is designed for human beings, not for animals. Since animals cannot reason and make moral decisions, they are not included in the salvation God has offered to humans. We are saved through our faith in Him. But animals cannot exercise saving faith in Jesus. Another way to ask this question is, "Will there be animals in heaven?
Although our sins have destroyed ourselves and nature, God will restore both. We must not insist that God orders things according to our desires or understanding. Perhaps God may allow our beloved pets to be with us in heaven.
Or He may choose to create a new pet for you. We must be willing to allow God to order things as He sees best—and trust that we will be happy with the situation in heaven. We may not know all the details of what God is preparing for us in heaven, but we do know that it will be far beyond anything we can imagine. The best advice is for us to love our pets and enjoy them while they are here with us—and trust God in everything for the future.
He sees and knows all, and nothing is too hard for Him to do. God knows how much we love our pets and how much they mean to us.
Whether it exists is a thornier question. But according to a new study, owners of all kinds of domestic animals have become more likely to believe in a pet afterlife — and have used gravestones and memorials to express their faith that they will one day be reunited.
In the few cases where an afterlife is referenced, owners are careful not to challenge contemporary Christian orthodoxy and only suggest a hope of reunion. Tourigny, a lecturer in historical archaeology at Newcastle University, found other evidence that pet owners were increasingly likely to view animals as part of the family. Gravestones in the four pet cemeteries examined cover burials from the s to the s. And it was over.
A horror, but peaceful. A peaceful horror. I could not find the correct directions. And then we took deep breaths and made plans with the doctor for cremation, and then they took her away. We went out for brunch. We bought wine. That evening we made crying animal noises in the dark of the surrounding woods.
Back in the city, a whole set of triggers awaited. Her water bowl. Her foodmat. Her stuffed animals and toys. The fact that I did not have to walk her anymore.
We have a cat and we tried to love on Leo more than usual, but, frankly, he ignores us, mostly. In fact, his days have been spent largely staring at the door, we imagine, waiting for Olive to walk in. Where are you Olive? I suspect she has always done this subconsciously as a way to poke fun at how small our apartment is. After, all, Olive is never more than a few feet away. And still she calls out, albeit less and less so with each passing day.
But now it strikes me as a profound question, a religious question, a philosophical question, at the heart of our mourning: Olive, where are you? Here they are.
The soft eyes open. If they have lived in a wood. It is a wood. If they have lived on plains It is grass rolling Under their feet forever. Having no souls, they have come, Anyway, beyond their knowing. Their instincts wholly bloom And they rise.
To match them, the landscape flowers, Outdoing, desperately Outdoing what is required: The richest wood, The deepest field. For some of these, It could not be the place It is, without blood. These hunt, as they have done, But with claws and teeth grown perfect,. More deadly than they can believe. They stalk more silently, And crouch on the limbs of trees, And their descent Upon the bright backs of their prey. May take years In a sovereign floating of joy. And those that are hunted Know this as their life, Their reward: to walk.
Under such trees in full knowledge Of what is in glory above them, And to feel no fear, But acceptance, compliance. Fulfilling themselves without pain. Our Olive never hunted, or was hunted, never chased a ball, or fetched a stick, hardly ever showed interest in any other dog unless it was another pug, and even that stopped, eventually , and after having once disturbed a flock of pigeons on the sidewalk and after having jumped and landed on the back of one of those pigeons she looked like she wanted to apologize.
I wonder… , whereas pugs will be entirely in the instinctive after-moment, unaware, in the forever now, the very envious position they inhabit in this life, too, which makes life and afterlife for the pug a recycling of the large same sofa, something of a dream. For the Buddhist, there are several heavens, and animals can be reborn as humans and humans reborn as animals, and all is cyclical, and heaven is earth and earth is heaven and I like that idea a lot.
For Judaism, whether or not an animal gains access to heaven depends on the Rabbi, as the very idea of heaven is exegetically also up for grabs. Augustine, all wrestled with the question of a heaven for animals, or if indeed animals have souls.
0コメント