During our trip West recently, we drove 4500 miles through some absolutely beautiful pastureland in Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The open space is awe inspiring, entire trains appear minuscule in the landscape.
And, of course, we loved seeing the herds of cattle. We were amazed at the number of acres per head as we drove past one water pump after another, not a soul in sight.
There were a few times that I couldn’t resist stopping, such as these gorgeous rolling hills near Emporia, Kansas.
Many of the cattle we saw were sleek and healthy. We saw beautiful long horns, bison, and probably a few Dexters. We saw some parallels with our little herd.
But then we drove past a concentrated animal feeding operation (CAFO). We had never seen one in real life. We were horrified.
There were cows packed on dirt paddocks as far as the eye could see. I attempted a panorama from the road to capture it, but it doesn’t come close. The stench was unbearable. We couldn’t see, let alone count all of the cattle. One of our kids cried out as we drove past, “His head is stuck in the fence!” But there’s nothing we could do.
This is what happens when you try and squeeze every last penny out of a pound of meat.
It hit me then that there is a huge difference in how animals are treated when they become simply a number. There is a real change in respect and attention given to animals that are only a number. This is one reason we promote small sustainable pasture farming.
But, in a sense, we still see this mentality on our farm as well. Not nearly to the degree of the CAFO, but there are differences based on how many versus how often we interact with a species, and in turn their behavior.
Cows and sheep require names for registrations since they are heritage breeds. But ours are also loved beyond many pets.
Our heifers get the royal treatment. We respect our steers and rams to keep their wildness, but they all are definitely well treated. Icelandic sheep are wild, and we monitor enough to keep them healthy but also respect that wildness.
Most of our ducks and egg hens even have names. We’ve had our hens for three years, and our kids know the differences in leg or feather features between Goldie, Goldelina and Butterscotch (three of our original Buff Orpingtons). Some of our hens are really attached to the kids and easily allow being picked up and held.
For our organic meat birds, we do maintain a respect for these animals. They have plenty of outdoor space growing up, and we definitely treat them humanely, checking in them multiple times a day for food, health and water. We also show respect by ensuring all parts of the meat are used, and that we don’t waste food. They are however too many to count, let alone distinctively name. We don’t know them individually. They do not and cannot get the same attention as the hens, and in turn their attitude is different. They are at the end of the day, a number.
We’ve learned that there is a bond, and a responsibility that comes with naming. God named Adam, but allowed Adam to name the animals that he brought before Adam (Genesis 2:19). I think this naming reflects the responsibility that he bore to care for and respect animals.
Adam and Eve also then named their children, and parents have likewise down through the generations. With children there is a very real responsibility to nurture and care for them as they grow until adulthood.
We even bear a unique responsibility for those whose names we know. We struggle to remember names of mere acquaintances. But we know the names of our family, our friends, our coworkers, each signifying a relationship.
I’m often overwhelmed at the number of people in this world. I’ve visited dozens of cities that I didn’t even know existed before my trips- each containing millions of people. Looking out over the city from above is almost paralyzing. And yet, when I meet individuals and learn there name— then relationships start. Flying out from the city reminds me again—each individual has a name, but there’s no way I would even meet them all in a lifetime. The population becomes simply a number for me.
I’m humbled to think of all these people. They each have hopes, dreams, feelings, and goals. They may or may not have family and friends. Each person has pain, trauma and needs. Anything we try to do to help seems barely a drop in the bucket. Like the cow stuck in the gate at the CAFO, often there is nothing we can do.
But- it’s also simply awesome as I fly over a city because I know that our God knows each person in that city intimately, whether they know it or not.
“O YHWH, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.” Psalm 139:1–4 (ESV)
The fact that God knows each person is astounding to me. But time and time again God’s love for individuals is proven to me as we see others serving out His love. For example, we’ve been honored to witness hundreds of orphans brought into families. These orphans went from being a statistic in the news to a son or daughter, loved and nurtured.
How is it possible God knows and cares for each person? There are so many people… 8 Billion, how is it possible to care?
YHWH gave us a sign in the heavens to show that He is able. The countless stars that we see… each one to infinity is known by name. Scientists estimate one billion trillion stars. And that’s only what we can observe. Simply breathtaking.
“Praise YHWH! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting. YHWH builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names. Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure.” Psalm 147:1–5 (ESV)
Even stars are named. We are more than stars.
We are not a number. We are named, known, and loved.
Comments