In the movie, “Life of Pi,” the main character is trapped in a lifeboat with an adult tiger as the ship bearing its crew and passengers, including his family and other zoo animals, sinks.

 

The boy in this fictional tale takes desperate but intelligent steps to stay intact. To the filmmakers’ credit, the tiger, oddly named Richard Parker, is never tamed during the long journey.

 

Both the animal and the human do, however, develop a relationship as the young teen, nicknamed Pi, works to feed the tiger and keep him at bay as they face the open sea and experience several terrors including a storm that nearly drowns them both. 

 

Near the end of the film, Pi makes a curious remark as he tells his story. He credits Richard Parker and his efforts to keep the big cat alive as being instrumental to his survival. 

 

That makes sense because Pi’s creative efforts encouraged his mind and body to stay active. But even more important, the cat kept Pi’s focus off himself. Without Richard Parker’s presence, the enormity of Pi’s situation most likely would have caused him to despair and die.

 

God has given us, His sons and daughters, many gifts to help us on earth, and among those gifts are His animals.

 

Tame or wild, animals from horses to hamsters, elephants to eagles were designed by God to benefit humanity with and beyond the food, clothing and labor they provide. God knew how much we humans could gain from the intangible gifts of animals — from their companionship, protection and inspiration.

 

The little gerbils that entertained my grandmother in her later years are a good example. Sunbeam and Moonbeam had their own uncomplicated personalities as did their youngsters, some of whom were bold explorers while others were timid. The “jerbees” responded to my grandmother’s voice. She talked to them, felt less alone in her home, and they could make her laugh a little even when she was in pain.

 

Like the fictional Richard Parker, our tame companions depend on us, and our overall capacity to love can grow as we care for them. 

 

But not everyone feels a connection to the animals of the world, and a few people are hostile or afraid of them beyond the necessary respect for creatures armed with teeth and claws. That is a shame for many reasons, not the least of which is that those people miss out on the self-discovery that can come from connecting with God’s creations that are mostly without guile. With few exceptions, animals are who they are without the duplicity we find in so many men and women.

 

For those of us who appreciate them, animals can help us discover that what we do matters, and that we are able to contribute to what is good in the world. They can teach us responsibility. They can provide routine in otherwise chaotic lives or a little variety in too-quiet lives. We discover how often they quickly they forgive us when we repent.

 

For their part, wild animals can inspire us. The sight of a majestic bird or beast can uplift our hearts, and the littlest critters can prompt us to marvel at God’s creativity. Indeed, the world would be much less bearable for us without them.

 

During this season of Advent, we are treated to readings about life after Jesus’ second coming. Perhaps the most eloquent lines are those from the Prophet Isaiah who speaks about the Lord’s mountain filled with peace and justice and the presence of God. 

 

On that mountain, there are animals.

 

“Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,” Isaiah says, “and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them. The cow and the bear shall be neighbors, together their young shall rest; the lion shall eat hay like the ox ...”

 

God’s holy mountain will be a safe haven for us — and for all those good animals who also will be renewed as God heals what was broken after the original fall of Adam and Eve.

 

May we find consolation in that promised future as we strive to care for all God’s creatures, great and small.