There is nothing in the world more powerful than words. Words are an expression of thought and ideas which can be so powerful as to even wield the power of life and death. Words are often misused, intentionally and unintentionally, with varying degrees of consequence. I believe there are words commonly used to describe hunting which are misleading and fall far short of defining the truth of what hunting really is. Hunting is often described as a “sport” or “hobby”, but both words are misrepresentative in my opinion. The words sport and hobby imply an activity, or worse a game, which is only undertaken for the fun and enjoyment of the participants but is ultimately unnecessary and lacking any nature of importance or seriousness. While many aspects of hunting are certainly fun and enjoyable, these words leave out the reality that hunting is above all a responsibility undertaken, and at times, a burden assumed.
Our family eats meat as does nearly 9 out of every 10 people in the world. Whether we like it or not, animals must be killed if we are to eat meat. Life eats life, it is the way of things. In today’s modern world, most people are completely removed and insulated from the unpleasant and burdensome aspects of killing and processing animals to obtain food. We live in an age where we can simply pay a stranger to bear these burdens for us. Consequently, we can purchase and enjoy eating meat having no interaction with the animal while it’s alive, and take no responsibility for its death beyond paying the price at the register. Hunters choose to be responsible, at least in part, for the killing that is necessary in order to eat meat. Hunting is not a game. At its core, hunting is about life and the resources required to sustain it.
On many levels, hunting is just plain difficult. Taking on the responsibility to provide meat from a wild animal for oneself and others involves some aspects that are at a minimum unpleasant but at times quite a heavy burden. As a starting point, the hunter’s burden can be described with a four-letter word, W-O-R-K. Granted, this work is also enjoyable in a sense but it is a demand on the hunter’s life nonetheless. Consistent success as a hunter requires a significant outlay of time, effort, discomfort, physical, mental, and emotional energy, and yes, even suffering. More burdensome yet for many hunters is the act of killing itself. Contrary to how it may seem to some, most hunters do not enjoy the act of killing. There is a heaviness that comes with stopping a beating heart. We kill not because we enjoy killing, but because it is necessary. Paradoxically, I’ve observed that the difficulty in killing seems to be most poignant in the very immature and the very mature hunter. The immature because he has little or no experience with the emotions that accompany killing, and the mature because he can increasingly relate to the fragility of the life he is taking as he moves closer to the end of his own. The hunter must also face the pain and disappointment which accompany failures big and small: long stretches of effort with no success, opportunities squandered due to some miniscule mistake after hours, days, months or even years of grueling effort, and finally, the worst and most dreaded pain of all, a shot gone awry resulting in a wounded animal. The difficulties hunters face are very real and can be almost unbearable at times.
For the ethical hunter, these difficulties are worth enduring in order to have provided for self and others, while having done so in a manner which allowed the animal to live out its life in absolute freedom. Understandably, because we live in a world where we have the luxury to eat meat even if we choose not to hunt, most people will never see the burdensome aspects of hunting or be able to understand and sympathize with the hunter’s periodic anguish. As a member of the hunting community, particularly the tracking community, I have seen and experienced it firsthand.
Naturally, I think, it is not the hunter’s struggle which is put on display, it is the hunter’s joy and celebration of a successful hunt most often shared in pictures and videos. These images can be easily misinterpreted. How could they be so happy about killing such a beautiful creature? Admittedly, I can see how easily one can come to the conclusion that hunters hunt because they enjoy killing. It is because they are missing all of the context. The joy expressed comes not from killing, but from the gratitude (I hope) for His provision and from the satisfaction of having accomplished something necessary, worthwhile, and so difficult it can seem nearly impossible at times. Would a picture of a smiling, happy family gathered around a thanksgiving turkey elicit the same response? Most likely not, but animals were killed in both instances. It is just that the turkey was killed with a checkbook. The reality is that the person buying a turkey at the store has sentenced a different turkey to death in order to replace the one they have purchased. Both the shopper and the hunter have killed, both have consumed a life to sustain their own, it’s just that one has done so directly while the other has hired it done.
Now if I may, for a brief moment, I will dig a bit deeper and explore the spiritual truth contained in the concept of “life eating life” for my Christian brothers and sisters, or anyone who may have an interest in such things. Imagine for a moment, we find ourselves in the situation which the disciples found themselves in at the Last Supper when Christ commanded them to eat His body and drink His blood. Obviously our Lord was not calling them to literal cannibalism, but what sort of man commands his friends to eat his body and drink his blood even symbolically? Would we not find that extremely odd? As He often did, Jesus used a physical truth to teach a spiritual truth. The truth that physical life must consume other physical life in order to continue living mirrors the truth that our spirit must consume and internalize His Spirit if we are to have spiritual life, and what’s more, have it abundantly and unendingly.
The consistency between the cycle of physical life, the death necessary to sustain it, and the life and death of Christ is stunning. One life dies, becoming a resource absorbed by, and transforming the life which consumes it. Our bodies are made and transformed by the very plant and animal matter we consume. Literally, we are what we eat. So it is also with Christ. His Spirit alone contains the resources required to transform and sustain our souls. Through His death, His life has been made available to us and we must be transformed by it lest we starve to death.
May I come back to what I said in the beginning? There is nothing in the world more powerful than words. So powerful in fact that Christ told us there are some we simply cannot live without:
“Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4)
Now then, living on words is also quite an odd thing to consider. But perhaps not so odd really when looked at another way. Consider the inseparable relationship between God and His words, also known as “the Word“:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1)
This enigmatic verse deserves the type of thorough exploration the length of which only a book could accommodate. That will have to wait for now, as it is not my intent for this writing. In time. Very well then, for our current purposes, it will have to suffice to say that He is clear with us that His words deliver the fuel we are made to run on, the very food our soul requires, namely, Himself. This being the case, there are conclusions regarding our relationship with words which should compel us in a couple of continual practices. First, we ought to be consuming His words with the voracity of one whose life depends on it, and second, we ought to be earnestly scrutinizing the quality of our entire diet. For knowing “we are what we eat”, it follows that we are always transforming into something more like what it is we consume, or else something less like what it is, or rather Who it is, we do not.