For those of you who haven’t heard (or haven’t read the first half of this issue, shame on you), last Sunday, a deer broke through the window of the 1st Bennink kitchen, broke his leg, and got stuck. Ultimately, Campus Safety made the tough but merciful decision to euthanize the deer (NOT in the kitchen, contrary to some rumors that have been circulating), leaving the BB community with a CK under construction and a really good story to tell.
The question, though, that the Chimes editors and I have been pondering as I write this during our layout session on Saturday morning, is where is that deer now? Do deer go to heaven? Is there a special heaven just for deer, and is the recently slain young buck gallivanting through fields of whatever deer like to eat with all of its fallen friends? Do deer undergo cosmic annihilation because they don’t have souls, or do deer have souls? Does the fact of a deer possessing a soul have negative cosmological implications? If deer have souls, are their souls less than ours? If we have souls, and deer have souls, are we, then, through the transitive property, deer?
The consensus of the editing team is that, if deer do have souls, they have better souls than we do. Disregarding the potential heresy of such a statement, it seems to be clear that deer are more innocent than us and have less capabilities for evil. If heaven is merit-based (which it isn’t, see Ephesians 2:8), deer are definitely more deserving of it than we are. But deer also cannot form beliefs or accept salvation. So, in a reformed sense, even if deer do have souls, they cannot be saved. Which means deer don’t go to heaven.
However, if we think about actualization, the deer’s life was obviously cut short, meaning it did not have the chance to fully become the good deer it was meant to be. Which means, also, that the overall quality of life that the deer would have lived cannot be determined by our three-dimensional mortal minds. This also means that we, as human beings, are responsible for cutting the life of this deer short — even if it was the “right thing to do.” After all, the deer is not fallen, but we are. Our sinful nature led to the construction of the very kitchen windows that led to the demise of the deer. We killed the deer indirectly before killing it directly, and by killing it, we have treated the deer as a means to an end rather than an end in itself. Maybe.
Maybe animals are reincarnated into other animals. This is also probably some sort of heresy. But perhaps the deer has now begun a new life as a heron, or perhaps a beetle, or maybe a dolphin. Maybe the deer contains complete memories of its old life (and, it follows, all its lives before its life as a deer), and it is now experiencing an entirely different kind of being. I would imagine that this is a cause for great joy on the part of the deer — if, of course, deer can experience joy.
I like to think they can. And I like to think that, in its tranquilized, vulnerable state, before it encountered the life beyond life (or lack thereof), the deer felt peace, and joy.
This is a satirical piece that was written in less than half an hour. It does not mean to make any sweeping judgments about death or perpetuate heresy. That said, if someone would like to write an Opinion piece about deer death that is actually founded in real philosophy, that would be enthusiastically encouraged and accepted.
