Watch Out For Those Deer!

 We host an awful lot of festivals in Cedar City. We also celebrate a few obscure holidays, one of which comes up every October without fail. Yes, it’s that time of year again… time to celebrate the “Harvest Holiday.” In case you just moved here and have never heard of it, I’ll clue you in. The “Harvest Holiday” is only a code name used by schools and businesses for “ The Deer Hunt.”

If you DID just move here and happen to be a vegetarian with no real interest in this holiday, be forewarned. There are some local time honored traditions you just don’t mess with, and the deer hunt is one of ‘em!

Hunters love to tell hunting stories, and if you keep your ears open you just might hear about an adventure or two. I’ve personally heard my share, but nothing compares with one I heard over thirty years ago while living in Oregon….at church no less.

In my church there is a meeting held once a month called testimony meeting. It is an opportunity for members of the congregation to voluntarily walk up to the pulpit and share their personal convictions. For the most part, these are very uplifting, positive meetings. However, people are only human, and occasionally someone will get off onto a tangent and ramble on with off-the-track information that detracts from the spirit of the meeting.

Hence, we often get a helpful letter from church headquarters encouraging members to keep their comments short and appropriate. It includes a short list of what a testimony is NOT. It is NOT a travelogue. It is NOT a lecture. It is NOT a health update about your recent gall bladder operation. However, I never have heard any mention made of deer hunting stories.

As young parents living in Oregon we took our family to church every Sunday. This particular Sunday was testimony meeting, and as was customary, the bishop and his counselors sat together on the stand facing the congregation. One of the counselors stood at the pulpit microphone and began the meeting by sharing his testimony, which happened to include a short story from a recent hunting trip. BIG MISTAKE! He just didn’t realize it at the time.

As the meeting progressed and various members came forward to share their testimonies, it was interesting to note how many men included a favorite deer hunting story in their message. I could tell from the uncomfortable expression on the bishop’s face that things were going in a direction he had not intended.

Nevertheless, the meeting went on with more and more stories, until finally from the back of the chapel, an older man came forward to the pulpit. He was dressed in a plaid, wool flannel shirt, had a scruffy beard, and looked a lot like he had just walked out of the Oregon forest. With great animation and enthusiasm he spoke into the microphone, “As long as we’re telling deer stories, I have one for you!”

He then proceeded to tell the most outlandish deer hunting story I had ever heard. It went something like this…

“Well, me and my buddies all went hunting last month and we just had a miserable trip. The weather was lousy, it rained the whole time and we didn’t even see one deer. Finally after a week we all decided we’d had enough. As we gathered around the camp fire on Sunday morning for our last meal before breaking camp, one of the men suggested that we all sing a hymn. What should we sing, we asked. He said we ought to sing “Onward Christian Soldiers,” since at least most of the men knew that one. So, we all began to sing “Onward Christian Soldiers,” kind of soft at first, but then when we got to the chorus we sang louder. Just as we were finishing up the first verse, and to our great surprise, a whole herd of deer appeared and started running right through our camp. We all grabbed our guns and began to shoot…and to our astonishment every man got his deer!”

Children listened in wide eyed wonder, as parents tried to stifle a skeptical smile. The bishop looked like he was in pain as he slouched further down in his seat, head down and a grimace on his face. The meeting had become a run-away train headed down the wrong track and “ain’t no one gonna stop it now.” He had ceased to make eye contact with anyone in the congregation and only lifted his head from time to time to stare hopefully at the large clock on the wall. He was probably praying with great earnestness for the hands to go faster and allow the meeting to come to an end.

After a few more deer stories it finally did.

The counselor who had began the meeting, stood to close it. He seemed relieved until glancing at his program to announce the closing hymn, he realized what it was. As fate would have it that day, the pre-determined closing hymn for the meeting was none other than hymn # 246, “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

You could almost hear a hushed giggle spread throughout the congregation.

My father, who happened to be sitting in the middle of the congregation on a bench next to my children, could not resist letting the moment pass. I guess the playful, fun side of him just won out. As the organ played the introduction to the hymn, and in that silent moment just before the chorister drops her arm to lead the song, my dad turned his head to the back doors of the chapel, then elbowed his grandson in the ribs, and in a voice just loud enough to be heard by most of the people in the congregation said “WATCH OUT FOR THOSE DEER!”

If there had been a slight giggle in the chapel before, it had now turned into unmistakable laughter. I think I even saw the Bishop crack a small smile.

I felt so sorry for that chorister. She was trying with all her might to maintain some dignity and seriousness, while tears ran down her cheeks from trying to stifle the laughter inside. It was pretty much hopeless. She continued to wipe her eyes and try again with each new verse. It was a long four verses.

In the end it may not have been the most spiritually uplifting or serious meeting ever held, but it certainly was one of the most memorable. And, if anyone came to church that day feeling a little downhearted or depressed, at least everyone left with a smile!