The Hunt: What I’ve learned searching for pheasants on the prairie

Before my Dad drove home from helping me move to South Dakota he handed me a brand-new shotgun. It was a housewarming gift of sorts. “Since you’re moving to bird-hunting heaven,” he said, “you better have your own gun.”

I’d never been to South Dakota before our visit here to candidate as a pastor four years ago. I had heard about pheasants and tried to look for them on our long drive from Kansas City. I thought I saw some in ponds near the highway, but only heard laughter when I asked the locals if pheasants were on ponds. “No, those are ducks,” was the reply.  Sooner or later I saw my first actual ringneck pheasant, but not on a pond. Once you see one you recognize it forever. Male pheasants, the kind you can hunt, glisten in the sun, full of green, red, and white feathers. They are unique birds.
Pheasants go mostly unseen because they don’t fly much. They nest on the ground. They run fast on the ground. And when they do take flight it’s rather low, low enough to hit a mini-van. Believe me, I know.
During the spring and summer the pheasants of the Dakotas have a coming out party. Any drive around dusk will be peppered by flocks of them eating gravel at the side of the road. The young pheasants mature during this time, becoming full-grown right before hunting season. Once the season starts, though, pheasants are hard to find. And that’s when the hunt begins.
How to Hunt Pheasants
Each fall people drive from far and wide to our area to hunt pheasants. They like to hunt in groups. And it’s best to take dogs with you. The whole thing is scripted and methodical. The hunters scout a location that is ideal for pheasants with shelter, food, and water nearby. Once a location is picked, the group comes up with a plan. Several hunters will go to one end of a field or slew and slowly march arm’s length apart from one another in a straight line behind their dogs. A couple hunters, called blockers, stand put at the other end of the field.
If pheasants are in the field, they stand little chance of survival. The dogs will disrupt them enough to get them to fly up in the air. Once lifted, a nearby hunter behind the dog will have a clear shot for a few seconds. If he misses, the bird’s flight path will take him toward the blocking hunters at the other end of the field who will have a clear shot for even more seconds. The pheasant’s only hope is to have someone like me aiming at him. I always miss.
Hunting gives someone plenty of quiet time to think while keeping the body busy. Over the years I’ve found several connections between hunting and the Christian life.
There is a season: Hunting wouldn’t work if it were open season year round. The harvest time is a natural fit for the hunt, since the fields are disrupted, making them easier to walk through, and the birds have all grown to adulthood. Jesus often talked about fields and harvests, noting when they were white and ready. I never know when someone I encounter is ready to accept the gospel, but I do know that I can share the good news with them in hopes that it might be open season. Sometimes it is. Other times it isn’t. And that has nothing to do with my specific words or actions.
Accepting seasons allows me to be obedient to God’s command and trust him in his providence without ever giving up. Cam Roxburgh likens witnessing to cooking pasta. You know your pasta is cooked when you throw one against the wall and it sticks. Sometimes the gospel will stick. Sometimes it won’t. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again or at all.
There is a body: Some hunting and fishing is best done alone. People want to be in solitude, keep quiet, or not risk upsetting the prey. Pheasant hunting is the opposite, because the more hunters the merrier. Everyone has a role to play; there are no bystanders.
Were God interested in setting up a private religion for isolated individuals, he would’ve gone about things much differently than he did. For all our technology, television preachers, and Internet communities, God is pleased to do his work through the local church. And just like the hunt, each member has a vital role to play. Mentoring is best done in a group. I may have never downed a bird in the air, but I’m confident that with more experience under veteran hunters, I’ll finally do it some day. They encourage me with their stories, give me tips on technique, and allow me the opportunities to succeed or fail. It’s less fun to have a good shot when no one else sees it. Likewise, when there is a bad break or tough miss, the solace of your hunting partners is helpful.
All of that happens within a church body. As disciples we allow God to use elders to mentor us, in hopes that we will in turn mentor others. We invite them to study, pray, serve, and so on in hopes that they will in turn mentor someone else.
Hunting, like anything else, is always one generation away from its death. If the men who hunt refused to pass on their passion, love, and experience to the next generation, then it would die. The church is little different in that aspect, although I wonder how much passion people have for it amid the wealth and ease that is American life today.

There is a purpose: Right now hundreds of men are in South Dakota, spending valuable dollars on gas, ammunition, licenses, food, drink, etc. Many of them do it every year. There’s a payoff for them, and believe me it’s not because pheasant breast is a gourmet delicacy. Around here, people usually give it away for free to any taker. If you ever come across it, cook it with lots of bacon. No, the purpose of hunting lies in the convergence of joy, satisfaction, fun, and camaraderie that go along with the hunting experience as a whole. It’s not the meal; it’s the feel.
Were I to contrast the thoughts men in my area have with fishing and hunting to being a church member, I imagine they would have a harder time figuring out the purpose of the latter. Sure, many of them would stress individual salvation, baptism, and what not. In America we think all of that can be done just fine without fussing much with church involvement. So what is the purpose of being a church member? Attendance patterns, commitment, and involvement reveal that a lot of people don’t know the answer. And that’s not entirely their fault; it’s partly mine as a church leader.
The purposes of hunting and being a church member overlap. When done well each member plays a vital role in the purpose of proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom to our community. We scout for fields, we methodically plan on how best to focus outwardly and reach our neighbors, and we support each other in our quest to be God’s witnesses. Our time of worship on Sundays is like the pre-hunt lunch at the café, where we debrief the hunt from before, enjoy each other’s company, share a communal meal, and plan the work that lies ahead of us. Likewise, our mentoring and discipleship is vital as we invite others into our group, passing down what we learned onto them. Over time, they become one of us and find their place at the table. Eventually, they will be responsible to mentor and recruit others to join them.

Hunting may not be your thing, which is fine by me. I’m not sure it’s my thing. But I’ve got a friend coming up all the way from Texas to hunt in a couple weeks. My gun and boots will be ready. Maybe I’ll down my first bird. We’ll see. It’s open season!