Do Animals Go to Heaven?

No theologian likes being asked about the mortal fate of beloved pets, as it’s sure to hurt feelings. With the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals, approaching October 4th, I was asked to wade into this increasingly sensitive topic.

In short, having lost a sense of our own dignity, we view ourselves more like animals and, in turn, view them more like humans.

In The Descent of Man, for instance, Charles Darwin stated that “the difference in mind between man and the higher animals, great as it is, is certainly one of degree and not of kind.” Animals can perceive, feel, remember, and respond to their surroundings, reacting to pleasure and pain in ways that seem familiar to us.

What Darwin, and many others, miss, however, is the nature of human intelligence, which constitutes a leap from the material to the immaterial. Animals are moved by instinct in how they respond to sensory perception, unable to move beyond it. They can perceive the difference between things but could never explain it rationally. They might figure out how to overcome obstacles to what they want, but could never imagine and pursue something beyond their instincts and experience. They remain confined to the world of sense, incapable of thinking about or freely choosing things that go beyond it.

You might wonder what makes human beings so different, as we, too, are animals. Aristotle deemed us “rational animals,” with a soul, a living principle within us, that does more than animate our bodies. We are transcendent beings, with a mind and soul that can reach beyond the world of sense, contemplating the stars and even what lies beyond them. God has breathed his life into us, making us in his image, so we might be capable of friendship with him, one that would endure into eternal life.

Animals have souls, too, of course, as all living things do; that’s what makes them animate. But these souls are natural, bound to the world of matter and sense, which they cannot transcend. Simply by looking at what animals can and can’t do, we can perceive that their souls are bound up with this world and unable to persist after death.

Is that the end of the story?

When we look at the life of St. Francis and other saints, we see that animals are bound up with the unfolding of salvation. Francis was surrounded by birds, who landed upon him as he approached Mount La Verna, the place of the stigmata, to confirm God’s blessing. Once there, he would be drawn to prayer in the morning by a falcon. He was also known for taming a wolf, which had harassed the town of Gubbio, and which instead became the town’s servant.

His friend Anthony of Padua preached to a school of fish to shame a town that had scorned him. He also led a donkey to bow down before a monstrance to chastise its doubting master.

In Scripture itself, Balaam’s donkey recognized the presence of a sword-bearing angel barring his path and then, through God’s miraculous power, spoke to him to protest an unjust beating.

Elijah was fed by ravens (as was St. Benedict of Nursia), while a whale swallowed Jonah and spewed him forth on the coast.

God entrusted humanity with the mission to exercise dominion over the created world. We tend to think of this as economic or technological, while in reality it is a priestly mission to enable the world to pay homage to its Maker. Sin threw a monkey wrench into this plan, and now, St. Paul tells us, the earth is groaning in travail as it awaits its redemption (Rom 8:22). The Resurrection inaugurated a new creation, raising up and divinizing humanity and also preparing a new heaven and a new earth (Rev 21:1). All things will be brought to perfection in the end, with humanity’s mission coming to fulfillment, as Isaiah prophesied, “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them” (Isa 11:6). The miracles we see in the Bible and lives of the saints point to this reality beginning even now.

If everything will be brought to perfection in the renewal of creation, does that mean our own animals, our pets, especially, will be there? The philosopher Peter Kreeft speculated, “Why not?” building on insights from C.S. Lewis (Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Heaven). Lewis himself posits that a “derivative immortality suggested for [animals] is not a mere amende or compensation: it is part and parcel of the new heaven and new earth, organically related to the whole suffering process of the world’s fall and redemption” (The Problem of Pain).

Since life beyond death does not conform with animal natures, however, it will take a supernatural act, an intervention by the Creator to re-create. In theology, we can only speak with confidence about what God has revealed to us. He certainly can create new animals or raise up past ones if he chooses to, and we could even see it as fitting, but it’s not something we can assert with certainty. We cannot hope for it in the theological sense, since the virtue of hope pertains to what God has explicitly promised, even if there’s no harm in a general wish.

If I were to make a case for why God might raise up animals, it would be because he’s a loving Father who delights in pleasing his children. Jesus told the disciples not to have anxiety about losing worldly things. He often encouraged them that God would provide an even greater abundance to those who let go of earthly things in favor of Heaven. In particular, he said, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Lk 12:32). This kingdom will realize all the things we have been called to do, and often failed at, including our dominion over creation.

God gave us animals as a blessing, to help provide for our needs and to assist us in fulfilling our earthly mission. They are not our true helpmates, for they are unable to love (a free choice to sacrifice for the good of another) and cannot share spiritual communion with us. They have their place and mission alongside us in this life and find their fulfillment through us in giving glory to God. The good we find in them points already to the perfection of Heaven. Whether we find animals there or not, we must trust that God works all things for the good and that nothing will be lost in the happiness of Heaven.