I’ve come a long way since my youth. I do not fish. I do not eat meat. I don’t euthanize insects so that I can examine them under a microscope. I believe that all creatures – yes, even bugs – have a right to live their lives as God planned. If I can help them do that, I will.

By sheer happenstance, I discovered that Anglicans have had a lot to do with animal well-being, and in fact are still active in this role. In 1798, Anglican priest Thomas Young wrote “An Essay on Humanity to Animals.” He posited that violence against beasts would lead to violence against humans. In 1801, Arthur Broome, another vicar and a passionate advocate, wrote “Unjustifiableness of Cruelty to the Brute [animal] Creation.” In 1822, Richard Martin, an Irish member of parliament, succeeded in his campaign for animal protection. Because of his work, the Cruel Treatment of Cattle Bill became law.

Mr. Martin, who was not an Anglican, was one of several folks who met with Arthur Broome at a coffeehouse in London in June of 1824. Mr. Broome was hoping that he could persuade a few prominent people to support him in his quest to educate the public and enforce the 1822 law. One of the gentlemen in the gathering was William Wilberforce, a member of parliament. The outcome of this meeting was the formation in England of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) – the first such charity in the world.

But the society soon ran into difficulty. Mr. Broome resigned his post with the Church of England so that he could concentrate on doing the society’s work, for which he received no payment. He must have had some money of his own, because he was able pay its expenses – which would have included hiring inspectors to enforce the law – until he had nothing left. When the society went into debt, Mr. Broome was thrown into prison in January 1826. Friends collected enough money to pay the society’s debts, and he was released.

I could find nothing more about Mr. Broome until his death in 1837. He died of tuberculosis and was buried in an unmarked pauper’s grave. He did not live to see the SPCA become the RSPCA in 1840, when Queen Victoria allowed the society to add the prefix “Royal” to its name.

Arthur Broome sounds like a wonderful human being who gave everything he had to help those who could not help themselves. And he would have wholeheartedly agreed with Charles Darwin who, as I discovered recently, trained to be an Anglican priest! This statement is attributed to him: “There is no fundamental difference between man and animals in their ability to feel pleasure and pain, happiness and misery.”

When World War I broke out in 1914, the RSPCA set up a fund for sick and wounded horses. During World War II, it rescued and treated more than 256,000 non-human victims. Mr. Broome would have lauded the courage and caring of those brave individuals who risked their lives to save them.

The next Anglican animal welfare milestone – at least as far as I was able to determine – was the formation in 1972 of the Anglican Society for the Welfare of Animals (ASWA). This statement from its website reflects Mr. Broome’s vision: “We believe that God has given us a responsibility towards sentient beings with whom we share God’s world. The Bible teaches us that God has given us ‘dominion’ not ‘domination’ over animals. (Genesis 1:26) This means loving care, not ruthless exploitation.”

And so the efforts of a humble Anglican priest continue. Two centuries ago, Arthur Broome planted a seed. That kernel has blossomed and continues to flourish. Animals everywhere are in his debt.

The post Anglican priest helped creatures great and small appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

I was prepared to stand in the drizzly weather we’d been having, assuming – again, incorrectly – that whatever prayers were offered would be very brief. And, of course, I wanted to see what critters would be there.

The hour-long family service started at 4 p.m. inside the church sanctuary. As we entered, my nose detected a definite barnyard odour, which became stronger as we approached the pews near the front.

In the place where the grand piano usually sits lay a straw-covered tarpaulin surrounded by a low wire fence. In this enclosure a multitude of farm animals either explored their new home or busied themselves ignoring the throngs of fascinated churchgoers who, like us, approached the beasts with curiosity and amazement.

The most obvious of these was Striker, a deep brown alpaca who stared imperiously at the humans making a fuss over him. Alpacas are very distant cousins of camels… without the humps. He was joined by Delilah the donkey, two very woolly sheep, a fuzzy miniature cow, what appeared to be a small goat with a light-brown coat, several gorgeous angora rabbits, a host of squealing piglets, a large and boisterous contingent of very small aggressive chickens, and a lone goose. It was crowded!

There was no room for Mary, Joseph or the baby Jesus in a manger. But two women remained with the beasts in the corral, keeping watch as the shepherds did and answering our questions.

As the service began, the Rev. Matthew McMillan asked each parishioner to imitate his or her favourite creature. I love cows, and so I mooed! No one heard me; a cacophony filled the entire building. The prayers and hymns proceeded to a background of various snorts, clucks, honks and other unchurch-like noises. Maybe the beasts were merely echoing what they had just heard from us!

Several times Striker buried his head in the straw, emerging with his face covered in yellowish wisps. He chewed continually during worship, not caring a whit about the effect he was having on the parishioners. Delilah stood quietly, deep in thought.

At one pivotal moment, Father Matt left his pulpit and approached the pen. Lifting his robes, he climbed over the barrier. I thought he was going to bless the flock, but he came out with Delilah’s lead in his hand, encouraging her to walk down the aisle toward the back of the church. She was not a willing participant, but she made the best of the situation. A certain irony existed in this stroll. In the bible, we hear of a donkey carrying Mary, who was with child. Apparently Delilah was also pregnant!

When he is not in church, Striker shares a farm paddock with Delilah. He might have been concerned about his friend. Or perhaps the gate in the small fence had been accidentally left open. For whatever reason, Striker made a quick and unexpected exit from his compound. The man seated in front of me reacted with haste, sticking out his arm and stopping the alpaca in his tracks.

One of the handlers quickly arrived to rein in the runaway, and things proceeded almost as planned. The excited children were invited to meet both Delilah and interloper Striker. Squealing with delight, the kids were keen to pat the animals but had to be reminded that alpacas don’t like to be touched on the face or head – neck and shoulder rubs are quite acceptable.

Once the wanderers were back in their pen, candles were lit and we all sang “Silent Night.”

I wonder if the participants had any idea that they had taken part in an historic moment. St. Francis is credited with setting up the very first nativity scene exactly 800 years ago, on Christmas Eve 1223.

The post Animals delight young and old at service appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.