A word of warning right up front: this week’s column is going to seem nothing short of blasphemous to some readers. It’s not intended that way, but I’ve noticed over the years that any time I mention the “R” word (religion), I get letters from at least a couple folks assuring me that I am, in fact, a scion of the devil and will likely roast in hell for all eternity.
I hope they’re wrong.
At any rate, I’m willing to take the chance in order to relate the following information, which does deal, at least inadvertently, with the afterlife. And dogs.
I’ve always felt that—if dogs are not allowed in Heaven—I’d just as soon not go there myself. Most theologians assure us dogs have no soul. They’re among God’s creatures, yes, but according to the sort of folks who make a living studying this sort of thing, Rover won’t be joining you in the great hereafter.
All I can say to that is; baloney. Over my long years, I have had the good fortune to share my home with an assortment of greyhounds, beagles, boxers, terriers, spaniels, retrievers and numerous mutts of indeterminate genus. I’ve liked most of them far more than most of the people I’ve known during those same years.
Let’s face it; for the most part dogs are just more likeable than their human counterparts. Sure, every so often a dog goes bad and bites someone, but you’ll never see a collie setting up a personal injury law practice or running for Congress; dogs know better.
The point is most people who know and love canines think all dogs (should) go to Heaven, despite the protestations of theologians. And at least one minister agrees.
Rev. Tom Eggebeen, pastor of the Covenant Presbyterian Church in Los Angeles, has gone so far as to set up special services at his church, complete with doggie beds, canine prayers and an “offering” of dog treats. Like I said, some folks will no doubt consider this blasphemous, but I’m behind Eggebeen’s efforts 100 percent, even if he is from L.A., where everyone is at least a little bit nuts.
According to an Associated Press article, there are a half-dozen other churches across the nation that also host canine services.
Humans are invited to attend as well, of course, though they’re not allowed to use the doggie beds, no matter how boring the sermon gets.
The services, according to the good Reverend, usually start out with a lot of tail-sniffing, barking and other behavior typical of dogs. This is understandable, I think, considering the exclusionary practices of most churches in the past. I mean, you can’t expect pooches to know how to act in church when they’ve never before been allowed to attend, right? It’s gonna take a while.
But they’ll get it. My last dog, Kipper, didn’t know enough to pee outside when I first got him. By the time he departed this mortal coil, over a decade later, he could practically read and write.
Moreover, he was a teacher as well as a student. He taught me the value of loyalty, the importance of offering comfort to those in need, and how much fun it can be to hang your head out the car window on a sunny July afternoon and simply breath in all the wonderful things life has to offer.
If all that doesn’t merit a free pass into Heaven, I don’t know what does.
More Reality Check online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.mlive.com. Email Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.
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