Chapter 1: Doxology
The shot from my Weatherby Vanguard rifle rang out with deafening percussion, but I didn’t hear it. I was in an elevated, enclosed deer stand that overlooked a large field of soybeans that had been sown for the purpose of the local deer population to use for food. On the east, west, and south, the field was surrounded by hills densely populated with hardwoods. On the north side was a six-foot fence that separated this field from another. Our deer stand stood at the northern edge of the field and was on the opposite side of the fence of the field we were hunting. We had hunted this field for several days with nothing to show for it. It was a little before 4:00 in the afternoon, and the chill of an early December evening was beginning to settle in.
We had been in the deer stand for about two hours up to that point. From time to time a doe or fawn would come into the field, take a couple bites of soybeans, and go on their merry way. But that was about to change.
Soon, several does came into the field for a snack. Before long, a lone, young buck entered the field and saw the potential therein, as there were several does for his choosing. He began to chase one of them a bit, and she mostly avoided his advances. So he took to a second doe, and chased her hard. She sprinted away from him and came running directly towards our stand. At the last moment she took a hard right turn and leapt over a nearby barbed-wire fence that stood in her way. Unfortunately for the young, love-struck buck that followed, he wasn’t aware of the fence and plowed right into it, his paramour boastfully prancing away from him. He may have been scratched up a bit by the barbed-wire, but certainly it was his pride that was wounded the most. With his tail between his legs, he left the field and went into the woods.
But only minutes later, more deer trailed out of the woods and into the field, including another buck. I was hunting with a friend who owned the land where we were, and was acting as my guide. I was not picky when it came to standards for harvesting a deer and would have been happy with shooting pretty much anything, but his standards for me were higher. In my friend’s judgment, this buck was worth taking, provided it came into range and we had a clear shot. We watched that buck for what seemed like forever as it slowly grazed its way towards us. During this time, even more deer were coming into the field, all dangerously unaware of our presence. But for our purposes, they were all safe. We were only focused on that one buck.
After several minutes, the buck was in range and the shot required was free of obstructions. I raised my rifle and set it on the ledge of the window in the stand to steady it. I made sure I found the buck in my scope and waited for my friend to give me the OK to pull the trigger. As I waited, I took my head away from the scope and scanned the field once more. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another deer – a buck that must have just come down out of the woods while my focus was on my rifle, because I certainly didn’t recognize him. He started to chase a nearby doe, until she stopped, and so did he. Right in front of us at about 50 yards.
“Wait,” I whispered to my friend. “Look at that deer!”
My friend hadn’t seen him at first either, and when he did, his eyes widened with excitement. All thoughts of shooting that original buck went flying out the window of the blind.
“Yes!” he whispered hoarsely. “Forget about the other one. You’re going to kill that buck!”
I put my eye back to my scope and adjusted my rifle to find this new buck but I couldn’t see it. The magnification of the scope severely limited my field of view. In the meantime, the big buck was on the move again.
“Mep!” my friend said, no longer whispering, but almost in a shout, making the typical noise that deer hunters make that distracts a deer and causes it to stop and investigate the sound. Most ambulatory deer will stop and look whenever they hear a strange sound like this. This buck, however, was different. He kept right on moving.
“Mep!” my friend said again, louder. And then, again: “Mep!”
By this time I had found the buck in the optic on my rifle, after lowering the magnification level. The buck stopped. As soon as I had the crosshairs on his left shoulder, I pulled the trigger. The report of the shot was inaudible to me because of the excitement of the moment, but I could see the bullet strike its intended target. Like a bucking horse attempting to throw its rider, the deer reared back on its hind legs from the shock of the impact of the bullet. It ran about 10 yards, then fell over, dead. The .270 Winchester bullet had done its work masterfully, puncturing both lungs, giving the buck enough pulmonary capacity to run just that short distance before falling over. He was dead within seconds, although we didn’t know it yet. In response to the chaos that just took place, the rest of the deer in the field retreated into the woods as fast as their legs could take them. We climbed down out of the deer stand, still whispering to one another and walking slowly and quietly towards the site of the kill.
“Chamber another round,” my friend whispered to me. “It was a good shot, but you never know what might happen.”
Another round was unnecessary. We walked to the spot where we saw the deer fall, and there he was, dead. The site before me was majestic; a clean and quick kill of an amazing animal – what my friend said was the largest deer he had seen on his property: a ten-point buck, with five tines on either side of his head.
I knelt down in the bean field and put my hands on the animal. I ran my fingers along his antlers and took in the size and beauty of him: the way his antlers were protruding in order to give him an advantage in fights with other bucks for worthy does; the muscles of his legs that allowed him to run and jump at a moment’s notice to escape danger; the angle of his ears, which picked up the sound of predators nearby; his enormous nose that alerted him to the scent of danger; and most of all, I was drawn to the bountiful harvest of meat that he would be for my family. Truly, this was a majestic creature.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow; praise him all creatures here below; praise him above, ye heavenly host; praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
What was that? As I stood there, staring at the deer I had just shot, these words – seemingly coming from nowhere – rang through my mind. I didn’t draw them to mind or call them forth in any way. They simply echoed through my head as though it was an involuntary reaction to the scene that was playing out before me. In that moment, I was overwhelmed with a sense of God’s hand in the entire process that had just unfolded. It was God who created this animal and fitted him with all of the physical characteristics that made him unique; it was God who had given me dominion over this animal to use as I see fit; it was God who created the beans that sustained the animal to this point; it was even God who led that animal to that field that day for me to hunt him and harvest him. Ultimately, it was God who created, sustained, and provided this very animal for the flourishing of my family.
I had been hunting, with various degrees of success, since I was a teenager. But it wasn’t until this moment that the spiritual reality of my outdoors life came rushing upon me all at once. I wasn’t just hunting; I wasn’t just an outdoorsman; I wasn’t just doing something I enjoyed doing. I was acting in the way that God designed me – a human being, created in his image, with dominion over this world – and using God’s creation the way he intended for me to use it.
It was abundantly clear that God was at the center of this hunt. God was the only one worthy of praise for this animal and for my experience of harvesting it. No matter which angle of the hunt I looked at, it all led me back to God. From me, to the buck, to the beans, to the soil, to the earth itself, everything led back to him.
This realization filled me with an incredible sense of gratitude. I was grateful to God for his creation of the deer and the world that sustained it; I was grateful that I had the opportunity to experience the creation in this way; I was grateful that I and my family would be able to thrive and live on the nourishment that the animal provided. In that moment, it seemed as though everything in the world was functioning exactly as it was supposed to. Harvesting this deer was something that was a part of me, a part of who I am and what I was designed and put on this earth to do. It was a feeling of complete satisfaction and fulfillment. Praise God from whom all blessings flow! Praise him, all creatures here below!
There are several roles that I play in life that I would describe as defining who I am, my essence, if you will. One of those roles is husband. I have been designed by God to be a husband to my wife. I have covenanted with her to be her husband and she, my wife. As her husband I will lead her in all things, provide for her, and protect her until the day I die. I do this not out of obligation, but because it is how God has designed me. Another role that I play is that of father to my children. Like the role of husband, the role of father means that I endeavor to lead my children, provide for them, and protect them. Again, this is not something I do out of obligation, but is rather a natural outpouring of who I am as a man, the man God made me to be.
When I intentionally live into these roles to the best of my ability, I find the deepest sense of satisfaction. Not because I’m such a great husband or father – indeed, I fall short in a multitude of ways – but rather because I am living into how God has designed me to be. God made me a man, and as such gave me the responsibility to provide, protect, and lead. I believe I bring him the most glory – and myself the most satisfaction – when I intentionally live into these roles.
Since my experience in that soybean field many years ago, I have found the same satisfaction in hunting, fishing, and the outdoors. These spiritual experiences have taken on a whole new level of enjoyment and satisfaction for me. In a sense, I no longer hunt and fish for animals, or for the sake of hunting and fishing, but rather I am hunting for the glory of God. I am hunting in order to live into the role that God designed for me as a human being, as one who bears his image. I am hunting to fulfill God’s command to take dominion over this earth and use it so that I and my family might flourish and thrive. I am hunting for the same experience I had in that bean field that day: that feeling of satisfaction, of fulfillment, of gratitude to God for all that he has done to make that moment possible. Harvesting an animal is certainly enjoyable and practical, but giving glory to God in the process is what I am ultimately hunting for.
1 Corinthians 10.31 says, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (ESV). The Apostle Paul wrote these words to the Corinthians to guide them in their thinking of how they should regard one another when it came to eating or drinking things that might be offensive to their Christian brothers and sisters. He is saying that they should choose to eat and drink what they do based not on their own desires, but on the basis of what will most edify and build up their brothers and sisters in Christ, thereby bringing glory to God by their selflessness.
But Paul also infinitely widens the spectrum and says that “whatever you do” should be done for the glory of God. The quantifier “whatever you do” necessarily encompasses every activity of life, including hunting and fishing. So then, how do we approach hunting and fishing in ways that glorify God? Is such a thing even possible? After all, hunting and fishing inherently involves killing living creatures that God has made. How is God glorified in the deaths of animals? Didn’t God make the animals too, and doesn’t he care for them?
The goal of this book is to address, and hopefully answer, questions like these by using the wisdom of God in his word, and to bring you to a place where your outdoor experiences are more satisfying and fulfilling, not because you will become a more successful hunter or fisherman, but because your goal in hunting and fishing will be the glory of God.
It is my hope that in this book you will discover that giving glory to God is only possible because God has made all things to work together for his glory. When we live our lives with this reality in view, everything – from the mundane things, like eating and drinking, to the thrill of the hunt – done for the glory of God will bring the deepest satisfaction and fulfillment to our lives.
This book is meant to be read as a companion to your Bible. I’ve studied what the Bible has to say on these issues, and you should too. There are numerous scripture references in each chapter. I encourage you to look them up and read them in your Bible and come to your own conclusions. In order to assist you in this, each chapter after this one concludes with a series of questions for reflection. I hope you find them useful.
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