All Cats (and Dogs) Go to Heaven

Photo of Grayson by Ryan Nicholas Danker

Photo of Grayson by Ryan Nicholas Danker

It was a Sunday afternoon when I noticed a lump and scheduled an appointment with the vet the next day after faculty meeting. Grayson had become lethargic. A cat who was usually chasing his beloved laser around, he had taken to the couch and didn’t seem interested in moving. I don’t remember anything from that faculty meeting. As soon as we were dismissed, I took Grayson to the doctor, and so began a months-long battle. Grayson had cancer. 

He was one of the sweetest cats that I’ve ever known. Gray in color, as his name might suggest, he was talkative, never met a stranger, and never missed the opportunity to crawl onto any human being who happened to sit down. His favorite place to be was in your arms, head tucked into your neck, purring until he fell asleep. Before his fifth birthday, we received the news that he had terminal cancer in his kidneys. And despite chemotherapy treatments – he had his own oncologist – Grayson died quickly, at home, surrounded by the people he loved and who loved him. 

We all have stories about our pets. Most of them are joyful. But their deaths, like the deaths of any whom we love, cause us to ponder questions of the afterlife, of our own mortality, and the restoration of God’s good creation. Within the Wesleyan tradition – and the larger Christian tradition – these questions have been explored by some of the great thinkers, including Wesley. 

Wesley wasn’t the first to bring up these questions about animals and the afterlife. In the fifth century St. Augustine of Hippo hinted at the topic in his Sermon 242, an Easter sermon about Christ’s resurrection and our own. Some Christian figures have had special relationships with animals. St. Francis of Assisi preached to the animals. St Anthony of Padua was said to preach to fish, who apparently came up above the waterline to hear his remarks. Many thinkers after Wesley have addressed the topic, including Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Billy Graham, Peter Kreeft, and most famously, C. S. Lewis in The Problem of Pain

Lewis’ argument that animals will be in heaven is similar to Wesley’s in that its substance is based on the restoration of right relationships between God, humanity, and the created order. For Lewis, the companions whom we love will be with us in heaven as they were on earth – the bond between dog and master, as Lewis describes it, will not be broken but will, in fact, make the animal’s presence there possible. 

Wesley’s argument, like the rest of these arguments, is based on the restoration of God’s good creation begun in Christ’s death and resurrection. But Wesley’s argument is ambitious in scope. The fullest description of Wesley’s views on the topic can be seen in his creative and speculative sermon, “The General Deliverance.” 

The sermon was written later in Wesley’s life during the 1780s and represents the culmination of Wesley’s thoughts on the matter. Wesley had long opposed cruelty inflicted on animals, particularly that found in gambling pits. And in his Notes Upon the Old Testament published in 1765, there are glimpses of his more developed views. His comment on Isaiah 11:6 – “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.” – offers an initial interpretation that he will develop further. Wesley read Isaiah as the church has throughout the centuries, as a book about Christ. This reference then is about the restoration of all things at Christ’s Second Coming when, “The creatures shall be restored to that state of innocency in which they were before the fall of man.”

The question at the heart of Wesley’s project is how to describe the original state of God’s good creation and subsequently its ultimate restoration in Christ. And he wanted to show that this restorative work is creation-wide, not limited to humans. He asks: “If the Creator and Father of every living thing is rich in mercy towards all; if he does not overlook or despise any of the works of his own hands, if he desires even the meanest of them to be happy according to their degree – how comes it to pass that such a complication of evils oppresses, yea, overwhelms them?” 

 Using both biblical warrant with the aid of contemporary scientific insights, Wesley constructs his sermon to show how God will restore the whole creation. He explores three larger categories: 

I. What was the original state of the brute creation

II. In what state is it at present

III. In what state will it be at the manifestation of the children of God

In the most fascinating part of the sermon, Wesley outlines the nature of the creation before the Fall described in Gen. 3. It’s particularly interesting given Wesley’s description of the animals, or “the brute creation.” He claims that, “All the beasts of the field, and all the fowls of the air, were with Adam in paradise. And there is no question but their state was suited to their place: It was paradisiacal; perfectly happy. Undoubtedly it bore a near resemblance to the state of man himself.” Wesley describes the perfection of humanity before the Fall, its freedom and capacity perfected as humanity was then in right relationship with God. Pivotal to this entire work, however, was humanity’s role, even responsibility. Humanity served as “the channel of conveyance between his Creator and the whole brute creation.”

At the Fall – when humanity disobeyed God – the brokenness of humanity’s relationship with God extended to the whole creation, to the animals, and even to the physical world. The animals, who before had, according to Wesley, greater understanding, beauty, and even the ability to speak (think of the snake), were now cut off from God and violence became their common lot. Wesley notes the “water-savages” who “swallow up all, even of their own kind, that are smaller and weaker than themselves.” But his greatest critique he reserves for humanity, who not only failed to serve as “vicegerent” of the creation but now inflict violence and torture on the created order, and particularly on animals. What Wesley ultimately is describing is a broken creation in which so much, including death itself, is in contradiction to God’s original design. 

The Wesleyan tradition has often been accused of focusing too much attention on personal salvation. And while salvation is at the heart of Wesleyan theology given its evangelistic purposes, Wesley’s vision in “The General Deliverance” should answer that critique head-on. For in the sermon, he not only describes the fall, humanity’s failure and creation’s brokenness, but God’s work of renewal in Christ.  

Examining Revelation 21, Wesley describes not only the restoration of humanity to its rightful place in relationship to God, but also the restoration of the created order. Christ’s death and resurrection launched the new creation that will ultimately supersede the created order as it now stands. That restoration has begun but is not yet come to completion. Yet when it does, Wesley writes, “the following blessing shall take place (not only on the children of men; there is no such restriction in the text; but) on every creature according to its capacity: ‘God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying. Neither shall there be any more pain: For the former things are passed away.’” Wesley refuses to limit God’s restoration to humanity alone; the restoration is for the whole created order that had, itself, been plunged into suffering and death by human sin. God has promised to make “all things new.”

But Wesley goes even further than mere restoration of the state of animals described in Genesis. Concerning the animals, he asks: 

What, if it should then please the all-wise, the all-gracious Creator to raise them higher in the scale of beings? What, if it should please him, when he makes us "equal to angels," to make them what we are now, -- creatures capable of God; capable of knowing and loving and enjoying the Author of their being? If it should be so, ought our eye to be evil because he is good? However this be, he will certainly do what will be most for his own glory.


Ultimately, Wesley envisions both restoration and fulfillment, for humanity, for the animals, and for creation itself. Those who turn to Christ and are filled with the same Spirit that raised him from death will have that life unto eternity. And in recompense for the sufferings which they endured because of humanity’s fault, the animals will be made even more glorious than before. In this Wesley is affirming the Christian vision of the afterlife that sees it as more than simply living eternally, but rather participating in God’s new creation as envisioned in Scripture.  

So will all cats – and dogs – go to heaven? Ultimately, yes. They will be part of God’s new creation, made whole, happy, and free in God’s good time. We have that hope. I will see Grayson again just like Charles Wesley will see his beloved cat, Grimalkin. We are also given a task now, though, to ensure the care of animals now and the end of brutality. Wesleyans are never allowed to simply live in hope of a good future; we are called to participate in it now. 

I started my article with Grayson not to outline a sentimental argument based on the love I have for my cat – and even for his sister, Paisley – but to ground my theological exploration in the here and now. Exploring eschatology, the study of the culmination of all things in Christ, can sometimes feel detached. But God doesn’t offer us detached hope, but rather tangible and specific hope that pertains to you and to me, to those we love, including our pets, and to the whole created order. The Wesleyan vision reminds us of God’s general deliverance. In effect, God’s ultimate renewal will include “the least of these,” two-legged and four-legged alike. God’s vision is more expansive than we sometimes imagine, and that should give us hope.

Ryan N. Danker is a member of the Firebrand Editorial Board and President of the Charles Wesley Society.