We Bless Our Cars. What About Our Pets?

An African Christian’s reflection on an unfamiliar experience

On October 3, 2026, I participated in a church service dedicated to blessing pets.

Yes, blessing pets.

As an African Christian from a Yoruba background, this was a new experience for me. I have participated in many church services, but this was my first time joining a gathering specifically devoted to praying for animals and blessing them.

It happened at Decatur Presbyterian Church, where I am serving as an intern as part of my studies in Practical Theology at Columbia Theological Seminary.

I can imagine some readers who share aspects of my background asking: “Ayo, a whole church service for pets?”

Yes! People came with their animals, introduced them by name, and brought them forward for prayer.

I was learning as I participated.

Of course, Africa has many cultures, and even within Nigeria, our relationships with animals differ. I am speaking from my own upbringing, my Yoruba background, and the Christian communities that have shaped me.

Although this service was unfamiliar, I was not entirely shocked. In the communities I know, we pray over many things. We pray when we buy cars. We bless our homes. When we buy land, we pray over it. We bring our work, journeys, and concerns before God.

With that in mind, I began to ask myself: If we pray over cars, houses, and land, why does praying for a living creature feel so unusual to me?

Then I read the Scripture.

I had been given the responsibility of reading Genesis 1:20–25, the main Bible passage for the service. I have read this passage before. But reading it for this particular purpose opened my eyes to something I had not previously paused to consider.

God created the creatures of the waters and the birds. God saw that they were good. Then, in verse 22, the passage says:

“God blessed them.”

God blessed them!

As I read those words aloud, they took on fresh meaning. Here I was, participating in something unfamiliar to me, yet the Scripture before me spoke plainly of God blessing these creatures.

I thought to myself: “Ayo, why should this surprise you any longer?”

How many times had I read that passage without stopping at those words? How much of what I notice in Scripture is shaped by my background and the questions I bring to it?

That morning, an unfamiliar experience helped me pay closer attention to a familiar passage.

After the shared worship, we spread out around the grassy area to offer individual blessings. People approached with their pets. I introduced myself, asked their names and the names of their animals, and invited them to share any prayer requests.

One person asked for good health for a pet and wisdom for its caregivers. Another requested protection and peace for herself and her animal. Others simply wanted a blessing.

As I listened, I began to understand more deeply what the gathering meant to them. These animals were part of their everyday lives. They brought companionship and joy, and caring for them involved responsibility and concern.

Earlier, someone had mentioned that a dog had recently been diagnosed with diabetes. That stayed with me. Behind the cheerful introductions were also worries about illness and the possibility of loss.

My experience in pastoral care has taught me to listen carefully to what matters to another person. Here, I had another opportunity to practise that listening. Someone’s concern did not have to be familiar to me before I could receive it with compassion.

I brought my African and Yoruba background into these encounters. That background helped me make connections, while also giving me questions to ponder.

What had my upbringing taught me about animals? Which animals had I learned to value, and for what reasons? How had my church experience shaped the things I thought we should bring before God in prayer?

I am still reflecting on those questions.

This is part of what I am learning through Practical Theology. My learning continues in conversations, in worship, and in moments when I am invited to participate in something new. Sometimes I understand more fully only after I have listened, taken part, and reflected.

On this occasion, I read Scripture, prayed with people, blessed their animals, and found myself reconsidering something I had never given much attention.

The words “God blessed them” stayed at the centre of it all.

They also led me beyond the service itself. If God calls these creatures good and blesses them, how should I treat them? What does that mean for the animals around us, including those we do not keep as pets?

Surely, praying for a creature should also make us attentive to its care: feeding it, protecting it, and responding gently when it is frightened or suffering.

For readers whose upbringing resembles mine, I invite you to ponder with me. Would a service like this feel strange to you? What would make it strange? Have you ever paused over God’s blessing of the creatures in Genesis 1:22?

And when we encounter a Christian practice that is unfamiliar, can we give ourselves time to listen, examine Scripture, and understand what people are doing before reaching a conclusion?

I will never forget this experience.

I went to the service as an African Christian from a Yoruba background, carrying my own understanding of faith and prayer. I came away having heard a familiar passage with fresh attention.

God blessed them.

Today, I had the privilege of praying for some of those creatures—and learning as I did.