A Lesson from the Animals

It’s no coincidence that the man who, in 1223, displayed the first Christmas nativity scene is also the patron saint of animals. St. Francis of Assisi understood that adding donkeys, oxen, and sheep would enhance its sense of peacefulness. That’s because, unlike humans, animals don’t suppress the most important element of any creature’s nurturing instinct – touch. I now see multiple examples of that every day.

Nucky gets his snuggle time in every night, whether I’m awake or not.

My marriage to Helen was actually a package deal. The package included a three-year-old tabby named Nucky – after the lead character in the HBO series Boardwalk Empire – and a 5-year-old poodle named Lexie – after no one in particular. Between the dog, the cat, and my African gray parrot Roxy, this is my first experience with a mix ’n match pet household.

Being a part of their interaction has been an experience St. Francis would have loved. Lexie flops on her back for belly rubs every chance she gets and, whenever she wants attention, uses her front paws as skillfully as a symphony conductor uses a baton. Nucky – as haughty, independent, and regal as a housecat can be – overcomes his superiority every evening to sit on my chest and head-butt my beard. And after Nucky had seizures this past weekend, Lexie has been comforting him with snuggles since he returned from the vet.

All animals are innately aware that touching is necessary – panda
bears, too.

These animals are following their natural instincts. We humans, however, too often repress those instincts. Touching another human being has become bad. Touch is invasive. It transmits germs. It signals unwanted advances. Instead of handshakes and hugs between real friends, many prefer touching virtual friends through our laptops and smartphones. How smart is that?

Acknowledge it or not, we all need human contact. We suffer when we don't get it. Babies and the elderly often fail to thrive when they lack human touch. Isolated wives tell friends and counselors “He doesn’t touch me anymore.”

Jesus recognized the power of touch in his ministry. When he healed the sick, he didn’t do it remotely. (Exception – demonstrating his authority in healing the centurion’s slave.) He touched people. It took just an unknowing touch of his tunic to heal the hemorrhagic woman. Try envisioning this – Jesus sitting in the pew in front of you during Mass, refusing to shake your hand during the Rite of Peace, opting instead for a polite little nod. The Word may have been made flesh, but the antibodies were lost somewhere along the way.

The positive effects of touch are actually measurable in all of us,
especially infants and the elderly.

We often use this time of year to remind ourselves – and others – that Jesus is at the center of our being. Some Christians become offended when people influenced by an increasingly commercial and amoral civic society wish us “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” Some tend to wear that wounded indignation as a badge of honor. Talk show hosts and televangelists attempt to boost ratings by cynically exploiting that indignation, trying to force society to “put Christ back in Christmas.” Or else!!

Which Gospel reading was it that Jesus forced anyone to do anything?

Maybe there is a better, more effective way to respond. Maybe we can try to reflect Jesus’ love and mirror his example by responding with kindness to those who wish us “Happy Holidays.” Maybe we can take a cue from St. Francis’ donkeys and oxen, from the dogs, cats, and sheep – touching the hearts of those we encounter by actually touching them with hugs, held hands, and other gentle and appropriate touches that nurture their spirits and ours. Our Church asks us to offer our time, talent, and treasure. Let's make "touch" our fourth "T" during Advent.