What's the Difference?

2001 Schweitzer Sermon
Unitarian Universalists for Ethical Treatment of Animals

Worship Service

Order of Service
January 21, 2001

The Unitarian Universalist Church
4848 Turner Street
Rockford, IL
Phone: (815) 398-6322

Opening Words

We are one.
One with each other
And with all animate and inanimate matter
One with all the stuff of the universe,
The known and the unknown,
The seen and the unseen,
The tangible and the intangible,
With the wondrous and the less than wondrous,
With all the beginnings and endings and carrying on.

We pray that in this brief time together, our light may be brightened, our
vision extended, and our love deepened as we feel ourselves truly one with
all that is.

Charles F. Flagg

Chimes

Welcome And Announcements

Jim Parrish

Sharing Of Silence

Opening Music

A Place in the Choir -- Bill Staines

Lighting Of Chalice

Response

May love shine forth through us today
May light of reason guide our way,
May beauty, truth, and joy become
A flame that burns in every one.

Story

The Chautauqua Bats -- Dave Weissbard

Hymn

Hymn # 203: All Creatures of the Earth and Sky -- St. Francis / R.V. Williams

Responsive Reading

Reading # 598: Without Hate (Buddhist)

Interlude

Little Lamb

Reading

In Defense of Animals (excerpt) -- Peter Singer, Editor

Offertory

The Blessing of the Animals -- David Lindenfeld

Sermon

"What's the Difference?" -- Rev. Colleen McDonald

Sharing Of Silence

Hymn

Hymn # 175: We Celebrate the Web of Life -- Carpenter / Vulpius

Closing Words

Response

Shalom Havayreem (#400)
[stand, join hands, and sing]

Postlude

Lasst Uns Erfreven -- Edward Braughton

Coffee And Fellowship

What's the Difference?

Colleen M. McDonald
Jan. 21, 2001

Sermon

We've been together for years now, and I'll always feel grateful we found each other. He's seen me through so many ups and downs– my move to Rockford, my father's death, my entry into motherhood (which has helped me appreciate him even more), my surgery last fall. I know I've taken him for granted and haven't always given him the attention he deserves; but he doesn't hold that against me. I tell him I love him, but we don't need words to communicate. We share lots of affection, and being around him makes me feel good about myself; he reminds me that I am a gentle, kind, loving, giving person.

Sure, he has his bad habits, but so do I; and anyone you live with is bound to annoy you sometimes. He doesn't clean up after himself in the bathroom very well. He gets up in the middle of the night to eat, and, so he doesn't disturb me, we usually sleep in separate rooms. He's on medication, but he's less than cooperative about taking it, so I have to shove it down his throat. And he bites through electrical cords; I'm surprised he's never seriously hurt himself. I've been told he was born with nine lives, and though he's thirteen years old now, I hope my beloved companion and cat, Hosea, still has several left...

So what was your first clue that, all along, I've been talking, not about a person, but another kind of creature? And what's the difference? What distinguishes the human animal from all the rest? (A woman in a cartoon sits reading, and one cat says to another, "It's true they can be aloof, but they're also very clean and can pretty much take care of themselves." )

The boundary between us and other creatures has become more hazy for me since last summer, when I read a book from the Unitarian Universalist Bookstore that changed my life-- Animal Grace; Entering a Spiritual Relationship with Our Fellow Creatures by Mary Lou Randour. Actually, this book was probably the culminating influence of many I've been exposed to in the last twenty years, including Diet For a Small Planet (an argument for vegetarianism) which I read shortly after college; presentations by UUFETA (Unitarian Universalists for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) at our annual denominational meeting, General Assembly; and the compassionate example of the minister of my home church, as well as some of our UU youth. What is the value of animal life--why do animals matter? Is the goal of human life human well-being, and, if so (or if not), where are the limits? ("Humans aren't the only species on earth," proclaims a bumper sticker; "we just act like it.") And what would the human experience be like if all, or most, animals disappeared from the face of the earth? These are some of the questions I've been asking in recent months, in addition to altering my lifestyle to help me "live the question" (as Rilke would say), "What are our rights and responsibilities in relationship to animals?" (I will say more about this later.)

So what is the value of animal life? Is it in the eye of the human beholder? We fans of felines know that cats were revered as Gods in ancient Egypt. Their status has certainly declined since then, but not to the extent that we now commonly use cats for food, as we do many other domestic animals; of course, eating cats (and dogs) is an acceptable part of some cultures, and if that's appalling to us, imagine how Hindus feel when we turn their sacred cows into hamburger.

Over the centuries certain animals have been granted special protection according to various cultures' beliefs, but the idea of (innate) animal rights is fairly new. From the dawn of human history, through the days on the American frontier, the killing of animals was essential to human survival– the muscles were used for food; the skin, for clothing and shelter; the fur, for warmth. (What it meant to the animals, to be threatened by human predators, or how this destruction of wildlife might impact on the future, were questions that were moot, then, if not inconceivable.) But it's not always been by necessity that humans have taken animal lives. One writer cites a well-known example: "The buffalo was one of the most populous mammals ever to exist... [but] in a few years the buffalo population had been reduced from an estimated 60 million to a low of about 22 individuals according to some estimates. Often white hunters would shoot them for the 'fun' or 'sport' of it, and leave the carcasses to rot. Moreover, US government policy encouraged the destruction of the buffalo herds so as to deny the Indians an important source of food and hides. Inevitably, the extirpation of the buffalo helped to eliminate other[s]... dependent upon it for food, such as the plains wolf and, eventually, the Indians."

In contrast with the Eastern, or Buddhist, attitude of appreciation and respect for all creatures, we in the West have tended to perceive animals as expendable resources, pests, enemies (villains, even), intruders, encroachers upon our territory, laboratory "guinea pigs," property, possessions, commodities, things, with the underlying assumption that the sacrifice of animal life or well-being for the sake of human welfare inherently promotes a greater good.

In the United States, the anti-vivisection movement of the latter 19^th century (which protested animal experimentation) and the animal rights movement of the latter 20^th century began challenging beliefs and practices supporting human dominance over other creatures. Darwin's hypothesis that people gradually evolved from earlier life forms-- rather than springing directly from God-- was one factor effecting this change in consciousness. Additional influences are identified in Peter Singer's anthology, In Defense of Animals: "1. The momentum of liberation." ("Once colonialism, racism, and sexism have been... vanquished [intellectually if not practically]," writes Richard Ryder, "then the next logical stage in the expansion of... boundaries... is an attack upon speciesism." (By the way, that's one "ism" that's not recognized by our church computer's spell check dictionary.) 2. "Increasing scientific findings [of commonalities between humans and other animals]... [such as indications] of high intelligence [including language potential] in apes... and evidence that all vertebrate classes... [experience] pain." 3. "The ethical debate over abortion.. [which has challenged old definitions of "person"] 4. "The development of behavioural sciences... which attempt to draw conclusions about human behaviour from observations of other animals... [spreading] the view that homo sapiens is one species among other species." 5. "The rise of the environment and ecology movements, which have... [promoted] an increasing 'awareness of nature' and of 'humanity's interdependence with other species.'"

A common, and perhaps prevailing, image of proponents for animal rights is that of extremists, perpetrating violence against human beings in order to save animals. But there are fanatics in any cause; and animal defenders have a long history of appealing to reason, through thoughtful, and sometimes clever, arguments: "

If we are to justify [animal] exploitation," writes law professor Gary Francione, "it is necessary that we somehow distinguish animals from humans, and that is much easier said than done... There is no 'defect' that is possessed by animals that is not possessed by some group of humans... [When I participated in a debate with Dr. Adrian Morrison, a veterinary professor, Dr. Morrison] offered a criterion that he triumphantly proclaimed did separate humans from animals. Humans are 'superior.'... Morrison pointed out that dogs do not write symphonies and humans do. I replied that I have never written a symphony and, as far as I knew, neither had Morrison. Did that mean it was okay for people to eat us, or use us in experiments?" (Roleff, 28-9)

"The simple truth is that we exploit the other animals and cause them suffering because we are more powerful than they are," writes philosophy professor Peter Singer. "Does that mean that if... aliens landed on Earth and turned out to be far more powerful than us that we would let them-- without argument-- chase and kill us for sport, experiment on us, or breed us in factory farms and turn us into tasty humanburgers? Would we accept their explanation that it was perfectly moral for them to do all these things because we were not of their species?" (26, Roleff)

Over two hundred years ago, philosopher Jeremy Bentham asked, "What... is it that should trace the insuperable line [between humans and the rest of animal creation]? Is it the faculty of reason...? But a full-grown horse or dog is beyond comparison a more rational... animal than an infant of a day, or a week, or even a month, old. But suppose the case were otherwise, what would it avail? The question is not, Can they reason nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?"

Rational discourse notwithstanding, our dependance upon and utilization of animals and animal products has increased over time. It's been estimated that in the United States, 8 billion animals a year are consumed as food and 20 million a year are used in research (related to medicine, primarily, but also including the testing of poisons, household cleaners, plastics, cosmetics, food additives, and tobacco products).

Meanwhile, we are disposing of huge numbers of domestic animals for which we have no use and destroying whole populations of creatures in the wild. (This hierarchical valuing of animal life dates back to Biblical times. In the book of Genesis, God commands Noah, "Take [into the ark] with you seven pairs of all clean animals... and one pair of the [unclean] animals [unsuitable for either food or sacrifice].) An estimated 5 million shelter cats and dogs were euthanized in the U.S. last year; and the World Wildlife Fund predicts that every day for the next forty years, on average, 100 to 200 species (plant as well as animal) will become extinct. "'

We are rapidly acquiring a new picture of earth," writes beetle enthusiast Terry Erwin of the Smithsonian Institution, "and... [this image] is crammed with millions upon millions of nature's species on the verge of being replaced by billions upon billions of hungry people, asphalt, brick, glass, and useless eroded red clay baked by a harsh tropical sun.'"

Dr. Jane Goodall observes that animals are "gradually and relentlessly losing ground to the needs of ever growing human populations." I would add that our needs (or, more accurately, our wants), as well as our numbers, seem to be ever growing, as we become dependent upon newer and newer technologies and a boundless market of material goods that make life more comfortable, convenient, or stimulating for us, at further expense to the rest of the planet."

And God said, 'Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.'" And I said, "No! That is not my goal for humanity-- that is not finding our place in the interdependent web of creation of which we humans are (but) one part.

In an article entitled, Animal Rights, Endangered Species, and Human Survival, Lewis Regestein writes, "As human beings are a part of nature, we are bound by its laws... Every species plays some role in the environment that may be necessary for the proper functioning of the ecosystem... We ignore this fact at great risk to ourselves, for eventually we will certainly destroy a species or ecosystem that is essential to our own survival... whales, dolphins, and porpoises, slaughtered by the tens of thousands each year, play a vital, though little understood, role in maintaining the health and stability of the world's oceans. By eliminating these intelligent cetaceans we further upset the delicate balance of life in the seas and imperil oxygen and food-producing ecosystems that are necessary for the survival of all life forms– including humans."

Cogent arguments notwithstanding, feminist ethicist Josephine Donovan and colleagues (in their anthology, Beyond Animal Rights) argue that there are flaws in basing moral decisions on abstractions, on maintaining absolute positions based on extreme and sometimes unlikely hypothetical situations; they suggest that rather than asking, "What are we obligated to do, by logic or by law?" we consider instead, "What actions flow out of relationships characterized by caring and concern?" In other words, how do our feelings about and first-hand experiences with animals guide us in sorting out our rights and responsibilities regarding these creatures?

Though zoos are problematic, and even the best have serious drawbacks, I think they have a significant role to play in today's industrialized world-- they are important not only because of the destruction of natural habitats, but because human beings are increasingly isolated from other animals in our daily lives, and the less contact we have with these creatures who share our planet, the less likely we are to care about them.

I've been appalled by what I've seen in some zoos, but I've also experienced zoos as holy places which inspire me with awe for the mystery of life. Such a diversity of creature bodies there all, and imagine-- we all came from a drop of water. Going to the zoo can be like staring up into the galaxies, or out into the ocean, and trying to find one's proper place in the infinite scheme of things.

But I cannot touch the soft belly of a bear cub, I cannot wake to the soft breathing of a cheetah in the stillness of the night, I cannot have a give and take relationship with a hippopotamus. I can have this kind of intimacy with the house cats who have shared my home, and it is they, most of all, who have inspired me to be more concerned about animals and their quality of life.

My relationship with my cats is so uncomplicated and down-to-earth. It is physical and nurturing, and it is almost all pleasure. I often say that whoever invented cats was a genius, but what I really mean is that my ongoing appreciation of these animals reminds me more of my limitations than of my power... for the creation of other creatures is beyond human conception, at least for now. We can reproduce ourselves, we can even clone other animals, but we cannot originate whole new species driven by an invisible life force, embodying a mystery we can never plumb. Animals have a capacity to surprise us, to respond and relate to us, and even to elude us, as nothing else on earth can. Despite popular language, we cannot own an animal-- they are never completely ours-- for they are unique and distinct individuals, endowed with certain power, freedom, and dignity. Unlike anything that is human-made, animals are not reflections of ourselves but windows into the divine.

I love other people, but my feeling for my cats is also, most definitely, love. I love my current animal companions, Hosea and Olympia. But what's the difference-- what follows from this affinity, this devotion, this passion?

As I said earlier, I've recently made some lifestyle changes, and one is the first is that I'm trying a vegan diet. ("If you love animals called pets," asks another bumper sticker, "why do you eat animals called dinner?") Vegans refuse not only fish and meat, but also animal products (especially dairy products and eggs). While foods such as milk, cheese, and eggs do not require that animals be killed, the conditions under which these animals are raised can be terribly cruel. Seeing the movie Chicken Run last summer was a poignant experience for me, as I realized that those unhappy fictional hens would fare far worse on an American factory farm. These mass producers, reports Mary Lou Randour, "house up to half a million chickens, with four confined to a cage the size of an album cover... The male chicks, who are no use, are thrown into a plastic bag... [to] suffocate... The female chicks are debeaked without an anesthetic... By the time they arrive at the slaughterhouse, 80 percent of their bones will be broken due to the calcium depletion caused by the strain of egg overproduction.... Most dairy cows also live in conditions of intense confinement," she goes on, "placed only in... barns which allow them to move [only] a few feet in either direction... or kept stationary by chains around their necks... Cows only produce milk for ten months... so... they will be impregnated forty to sixty days after each birth. Calves are taken away [immediately]... with the females raised to produce milk and the males for beef or veal."

Of course, there are farms on which animals are treated humanely; and it has been argued that a well cared for domestic animal enjoys a far better quality of life than the average wild animal. But I don't feel a need to eat animals and animal products, when there are plenty of healthy alternatives.

As a vegan, I've learned to read labels carefully for no-no's such as cassein (a milk powder) and whey, gelatin (derived from animal hooves), and egg whites (found in many of the so-called veggie burgers). I've discovered I like the taste of soy milk (which is about as nutritious as skim milk) much better than I ever liked dairy milk I eat far less junk food than I used to, and much more tofu (which is probably an acquired taste!), and I commune with apples more regularly. The only food of the past I miss deeply is ice cream, but believe it or not, Tofuti is a pretty tasty substitute.

I am far from being a vegan saint. I ate chicken soup when I was recovering from the flu; I am often tempted by milk chocolate candy; and because I appreciate the fact that food means love to some people, I try not to be too picky when I am a guest at someone else's table. Still, I strive to remember Albert Schweitzer's admonition, "Think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight," and to do my best to be true to the vegetarian affirmation, "I never eat anything with a face."

My other animal-related initiative is to begin buying cruelty-free personal care products. "Every year, millions of animals suffer and die in painful tests to determine the 'safety' of cosmetics and household products," reports a PETA fact sheet. (PETA stands for "People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.") "Substances ranging from eye shadow and soap to furniture polish and oven cleaner are tested on rabbits,... dogs, and other animals, despite the fact that [it is highly doubtful that] test results help prevent or treat human illness or injury." Two of the most infamous tests are the Draize– in which substances are placed directly in rabbits' eyes, routinely causing symptoms including ulceration, bleeding, and even blindness-- and the LD (lethal dose) 50 poisoning test, which determines that amount of a substance that will kill at least 50% of a group of test animals. "Like eye irritancy tests, lethal dose tests are unreliable at best, " reports PETA. "They vary from lab to lab and even... [rodent to rodent... But] the very unreliability of animal tests may make them more appealing... since these tests allow... [companies] to put virtually any product on the market... and use the fact that their products were tested to help defend themselves against consumer lawsuits. Others believe that testing on animals helps them compete in the marketplace: Consumers demand products with exciting new ingredients, such as alpha-hydroxyl-acids, and animal tests are often considered the easiest and cheapest way to 'prove' that new ingredients are 'safe.'"

"[But] Is another shampoo worth blinding a rabbit?" asks activist Henry Spira. Believe it or not, a transition to cruelty-free hygiene products has been more challenging for me than a change in diet, since there are so few alternatives available, and what is available is so much more expensive. The good news is that, under consumer pressure, more and more companies are using and developing alternatives to animal testing, among them: cell cultures, tissue cultures, corneas from eye banks, and sophisticated computer and mathematical models.

An exemplary manufacturer of cruelty-free personal care products is Tom's of Maine, which succeeded in obtaining the American Dental Association's seal of approval for its toothpastes after a twelve-year campaign. Rather than conducting the standard lethal dose test– where researchers brush rats' teeth for more than a month then kill the animals and examine their teeth under a microscope-- Tom's worked with his scientists to develop fluoride tests that could safely be used on human volunteers. Hooray for Tom's. And so I have begun purchasing Tom's of Maine toothpastes and deodorant sticks, in addition to starting a vegan diet-- but what's the difference? "According to my calculations," speculates vegetarian Harriet Schleifer, "every person who becomes a vegetarian is directly responsible for saving between forty and ninety-five creatures every year, depending upon her or his [previous] level of meat consumption." I have no similarly dramatic statistic about cruelty-free consumerism, but I know that I have become a much more conscious shopper, as I read product labels and ask myself, "What's in this? Where does it come from? And do I really need this?"

Mary Lou Randour writes, "[We can observe ourselves] through the perspective of two parallel worlds: the ones [we] occupy as we go about our daily life, making many of the ordinary decisions all of us make; and the lesser-known world of the animals whose lives are affected by [our] decisions... I spent most of my life unaware of this other world, in which millions of animals live and often suffer needlessly... I hope to open our awareness to this other world, which has been kept out of sight... By making the world of the animal visible, we gain insight... [And] When we can join with the other, something else happens. That something else is spiritual... This feeling lasts only briefly, of course, as long as a spark of light. It is not, however, just a spark of light. The sparks from this and other moments illuminate a spiritual path that can guide us into a deeper relationship with all of creation."

Amen. Shalom. Blessed be.

(So now you've heard my sermon. And I leave it to you: "What's the difference?")