Archive: My Dog the Methodist

by William Willimon

The idea everyone is talking about

At the United Methodist Church’s most recent General Conference, we voted to make nine million new United Methodists by 1992. Southern Baptists scoffed; how could a denomination that has managed to lose about 65,000 members every year somehow come up with many millions of Methodists in the next few years? Last year we couldn’t even find more than 200,000 new Methodists. So where do we expect to find the other nine million?

In four years at my previous parish—despite my earnest efforts to apply the principles of the Church Growth Movement—I found only about 150 new United Methodists, and some of them weren’t any better at being Methodist than they were being Baptist or Presbyterian or whatever they were before I found them.

Then in the course of my scholarly duties, I came upon a brilliant but neglected monograph by Charles M. Nielsen of Colgate-Rochester Divinity School titled Communion for Dogs. Building upon the groundbreaking work of Peter Singer’s Animal Liberation (Avon, 1977) and basing his thesis on all sorts of footnotes from Biblical, patristic, medieval and Reformation sources, Dr. Nielsen makes a convincing argument that dogs should be admitted to the Lord’s Table in reformed churches:

Reformed churches used to stress discipline, but now it is clear that we train our dogs far better than we train our children. … They are loyal, adorable, loving and caring, and clearly should be allowed to receive communion.

It is fair to say that Communion for Dogs gives all dogs a new leash on life, so to speak.

Being a Methodist, my concern is not who should come to the Lord’s Supper (which we don’t celebrate that often, anyway) but where in the world we expect to find nine million new members. But after reading Nielsen, I knew: right in my own home, sleeping even now in my garage, is a willing convert—Polly, a black terrier of uncertain parentage and quixotic disposition.

All over this fair nation there are many millions of Polly’s compatriots who have been neglected, ignored and even scorned by evangelistic efforts. Yet they already possess all of the characteristics for membership in one of today’s most progressive denominations: openness, spontaneity, affirmation, inclusiveness, love, righteous indignation, sexual freedom, gut reactions.

Here are our nine million new Methodists!

Why has the Christian church heretofore overlooked dogs as fit recipients of the Good News? The answer is simple: bigotry, close-mindedness and prejudice. No doubt many of you immediately call to mind Revelation 22:15, which lists those who are refused admission into the eternal bliss of heaven: “Outside are the dogs and sorcerers and fornicators and murderers and the idolaters …”

But what does that prooftext prove? I’ve served churches where murderers may have been scarce, but fornicators were not. Besides. we have learned to jettison so much of Scripture with which we don’t agree. why should we preserve the obviously anti-canine sentiments of Revelation 22:15?

All Scripture must be read by dog lovers with a “hermeneutics of suspicion”: the Bible simply gives dogs a bad rap. Even though Genesis 9:8-10 asserts that covenant is established “with every living creature … and every beast of the earth…, all that comes out of the ark,” traditional exegesis has acted as if every beast and creature were on the ark except for Polly’s ancestors. If her ancestors hated water as much as Polly does, I can assure you that no ark would have left port without dogs on board.

You will no doubt say that this anti-canine prejudice merely reflects the culture-bound nature of Scripture and that we have at last overcome the bias. Don’t be so sure! When Billy Graham preached at our chapel last year. I asked him how many dogs he had converted. This man-who has gone to the ends of the earth to preach-looked at me as if I were crazy. I guess that I shouldn’t have expected better of someone who admires the likes of Charles G. Finney, who wrote in his Lectures on Revivals of Religion:

People should leave their dogs and very young children at home. I have often known contentions arise among dogs … just at that stage of the services, that would most effectually destroy the effect of the meeting …. As for dogs, they had infinitely better be dead. than to divert attention from the word of God.

Even the so-called Inclusive Language Lectionary—while making such a fuss over the sexism and patriarchal nature of Scripture and going to such extreme efforts to delete it from the hearing of modern, more enlightened Christian congregations—totally ignores the Bible’s anti-canine bias. The Inclusive Language Lectionary prides itself on its reworking of such passages as Hebrews 11 to read: “By faith Abraham [and Sarah] obeyed when [they] were called to go out to a place … and [they] went out, not knowing where [they] were to go.” But what about Abraham and Sarah’s dogs? Did the dogs who faithfully followed them into an unknown land know the route any better than Abraham and Sarah? Did their following require any less faith? No! In fact, the dogs had to have more faith than Abraham and Sarah since they were following human beings who admittedly had no idea of where they were going.

Of course, there will always be those who object to such hermeneutics because the original text doesn’t say that Abraham (or Sarah) had a dog. But their very objection proves my point. In telling the story, backward, conservative, bourgeois people have completely and intentionally overlooked the contributions of dogs.

For the intractably reactionary, other texts must also be considered. For instance, is not my thesis that Polly is a potential United Methodist vitiated by Matthew 7:6: “Do not give dogs what is holy; and do not throw pearls before swine”? Careful exegesis shows that this text cannot be taken seriously. Kusin is a metaphor for wicked people. Dogs here are simply not dogs.

Then there is that unfortunate slip by Paul in Philippians 3:2: “Beware of the dogs.” Dr. Nielsen notes that the “dogs” here were possibly Jewish Christians. Therefore, rather than being a term of opprobrium, “Beware of the dogs” is an early reference to fellow Christians. “You old dog, you,” is a term of endearment.

Besides, even if these texts do say nasty things about canines, we have been so successful at removing Jesus’ strictures against divorce, riches, violence and adultery, why can’t we dispose of Matthew 7:6 and Philippians 3:2 as well?

Fortunately, the exclusivistic and humanistic bias of these text must be balanced with that beloved remark by our Lord in Mark 7:28. Nielsen is quite right in basing his central argument on Jesus’ command that dogs under the table should have the children’s crumbs.

Speaking of sacraments, there is clear Biblical warrant for dogs as fit subjects for baptisms—even though Polly hates baths. In defending infant baptism, scholars such as Oscar Cullmann and Joachim Jeremias give weight to what is called the “oikos formula” (from the Greek word for “household”), noting that, at a number of places in Acts, someone is baptized “and his whole household with him.” Even though children are not explicitly mentioned, these great scholars assume that children were also members of the household and were therefore baptized at an early age.

We talk to dogs, kiss them, cuddle them and toilet train them (more rapidly than we can train our children). So if children can be baptized, so can dogs. What is more, we have now progressed to the point where our dogs eat and dress like us, have beauty parlors, cemeteries, psychologists and birth control devices—and we have become like them in our sexual behavior. So I see no Biblical objection to any congregation receiving them as full communicants.

Historically, dogs like Polly have received great support from some of our best theologians. Luther, in his Table Talk (No. 5418), praises two dogs that performed a perfectly natural (but socially unacceptable) breakthrough, one over the grave of the bishop of Halle and the other into a Catholic holy water pot. Dogs have been Lutherans (or Lutherans have been dogs) long before we Methodists ever considered the idea.

It was also Luther who said of his little dog, Toelpel, “Ah, if I could only pray the way this dog looks at meat” (Table Talk, No. 274). How often do you hear Luther admit that another human is a better Christian than he?

I’ll admit that at present, Polly is not exactly the moral exemplar for our neighborhood. She bitterly detests all members of the feline community, tried recently to do damage to the leg of the urologist next door when he went out unannounced to retrieve his morning paper and seems utterly unconvinced of the value of monogamy.

But already, on any evening when the moon is full, she fulfills the invitation of Jonah 3:8: “… let man and beast … cry mightily to God.” She cried so mightily one Tuesday evening last week that my neighbor, the urologist, threatened to do what he has heretofore declined to do: talk to an attorney. Thus Polly effected reconciliation between two adversaries, doctors and lawyers.

In short, Polly already has all of the characteristics that would make her a wonderful Methodist.

Studies within the Church Growth Movement indicate that theology isn’t an important factor in evangelism. Far more significant are warmth, enthusiasm and feeling—all of which are so beautifully expressed by Polly and her kin.

Was it not the great theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher who defined religion as a “feeling of absolute dependence” rather than “an instinct craving for a mess of metaphysical and ethical crumbs”? Methodists are not too big on theological speculation. Similarly, I have never seen Polly bothered by metaphysical or ethical speculation. (She may indulge in such in the privacy of our garage, but I doubt it.) She knows that she is absolutely dependent on me to keep my neighbor from killing her for chasing his cat.

G. W. F. Hegel countered saying if religion were merely a feeling of absolute dependence, “then the dog would be the best Christian.”

If we United Methodists give Polly the right hand of fellowship and a pledge card, we’ll be well on our way toward that goal of nine million new members. On second thought, let’s forget the right hand of fellowship and just tell her how glad we are to have her in the church. Polly may have the heart of a Methodist, but she still has the teeth of a pagan.

Dr. William H. Willimon is minister to Duke University and professor of the practice of Christian ministry. This article, copyright 1986 Christian Century Foundation, was reprinted by permission from the July 16-23, 1986 issue of The Christian Century.