Paolo De Benedetti: For an Animal Theology

Abstract

The Italian theologian Paolo De Benedetti developed an animal theology with a focus not only on humans but also on animals, on plants and on every creature. Bypassing Western anthropocentric bias, De Benedetti embraced a reading of the Holy Scriptures capable of showing animals as direct recipient of God’s love. As the author has made clear, to speak about animal theology is not a mere sentimental act, but rather an important tool that could help human beings in finding a more “just” relationship between the finite world that they live in and that infinite ones that they do not know. By shedding light on the articulated existential sense the whole creation has inside the Jew-Christian tradition, the work of De Benedetti has deeply marked the Italian debate on animal and environmental ethics.

Addendum

Besides theological and philosophical works, De Benedetti’s legacy includes several poems and limericks. A consistent number of them are devoted to those animals he shared his life with. This kind of poetry is helpful to understand the broadness and depth of his thought, and I propose here some examples as a way of conclusion.

A Bobi Bobi, che su nel cielo muovi la coda a Dio, essere amato e amare è stata la tua sorte in vita come in morte. Ora, ti prego, insegnaci a varcar quella porta mentre si fa più corta la nostra attesa; e un filo di luce dal tuo pelo ci guidi a ritrovarti nel prato di asfodelo. (De Benedetti and Bianchi 2013: 17)	To Bobi Oh Bobi, who up in the sky wags your tale for God, to be loved and to love has been your destiny in life as in death. Now please teach us to cross that door while our waiting shortens; and a glimmer of light from your hair may lead us to find you again in the Asphodel Meadows.
Per Dove sei Ti avevamo chiamato Dove sei perché a questo appello tu venivi e avevi scelto che fosse il tuo nome. Ma ora non rispondi, e non sappiamo dove sia la tua anima pensosa di grande gatto, che scrutava il mondo con ansia, confidando in pochi affetti e fuggendo nel sonno. Forse Dio ti ha detto: Dove sei? Perché voleva qualche cosa di morbido sul grembo, fra tanti santi un poco soffocanti. Ma ti ha rapito a noi, che nel tuo esserci credevamo che al mondo pur ci fosse qualche spiraglio ancor di paradiso, e che il creato fosse “molto buono”. La morte è amara, ma più amaro assai è vedere morire. Forse questo potevi risparmiarcelo, Signore, ancora un po’. Ora conserva l’anima piccolina del nostro Dove sei per quando arriveremo, e se tu puoi consolala. Ma forse tu non puoi, perché la morte è troppo anche per te. (2012b: 39)	For “Where are you” We called you “Where are you” because you answered to this call and you chose this as your name. But now you do not answer, and we do not know where is your pensive soul, big cat, who peered at the word with bated breath just trusting few loved ones and fleeing into sleep. Maybe God said to you “Where are you?” because he wanted something soft on his lap, among many slightly suffocating saints. But he took you from us, who in your being there found some glimmer of paradise in the world and believed creation was “really good.” Death is bitter but even more bitter is To see someone dying. Maybe this you could have spared us, oh Lord, for a while. Now please preserve the tiny soul of “Where are you” until our arrival, and console it, if you can. But perhaps you cannot, because death is too much even for you.
A Martino Matino, gatto mio, tu credi ch’io sia Dio, e mi guardi adorante come fanno le sante e gli estatici frati scolpiti o pitturati. E non sai che i tuoi occhi insegnano anche a me senza piegare ginocchi come pregare il re, un re come te zoppo di un regno ove il dolore anche per lui è troppo. Per consolarlo, salga la nostra tenerezza affidata al tuo sguardo e a una tua carezza. (2012b: 13)	To Martino Martino, oh my cat, you think I am the Lord and you look at me adoring as do female saints and the ecstatic friars carved and painted. And you do not know that your eyes teach even to me without bending the knee how to pray the king, a king lamed like you of a land where pain is too much even for him. To console him, may our tenderness climb up, entrusted to your gaze and to a caress from you.