Imitating prey: stop acting and sounding like a spiritual bunny.

Today is my day off and it snowed this morning, almost a foot in some places. Disgusted, I went to work. After lunch the snow stopped and I decided to leave the office and see if I could salvage the remains of the day. I went home, grabbed my field glasses, my rambling rifle and the rest of my field kit.

A half-hour drive found me poking around the forested edge of a delightful meadow, creek and slough complex. The snow was mostly melted from the meadow, although there was still up to six inches of the wet stuff under the forest canopy. Every species of wildlife seemed to be out investigating the aftermath of the freak spring snowstorm. I spent a wonderful afternoon poking around like an old bear. And then I bumped into one.

The bruin was a she-bear, black, modest in size and obviously advanced in years. From about 150 metres away I watched through my binoculars as she flipped over a dried cow flop and dabbed up the dung beetles with her tongue. As she bumbled around she didn't have a clue I was giving I spent a wonderful afternoon poking around like an old bear. And then I bumped into one her the eye, or at the very least, didn't care. I was almost back to the pickup truck, so I wandered over and deposited the rifle and my daypack on the front seat and quietly closed the door. I sat on the ground about a dozen metres away from the track and continued to watch the old bear through my field glasses. Eventually she bumbled back into the forest like a buffoon with black baggy breaches.

Without thinking too much, I reached into my vest pocket, took out my prey imitator call and proceeded to play a short "rabbit in distress" opus on it. I was interested to see if the old she-bear would poke her nose out of the forest again if she thought a rabbit sandwich was in the offing. After a few bars, I sat on the ground and lazily waited. I glassed the forest edge about 200 metres away where the old bear had disappeared. I wasn't really expecting too much to happen.

Suddenly, only 15 metres away, the dense brush to my fight shook violently. The old she-bear stomped out directly towards me. Bumbling buffoon had become purposeful predator. What made this particularly interesting, if not ironic, was that the hunter had suddenly become the hunted, all because the hunter had made the mistake of imitating prey. The bear had taken the rabbit distress call seriously, and since bears are notably myopic, and since fear had kind of frozen my fanny to the ground, the old she-bear was convinced that the mound on the ground before her was really a rather large distressed rabbit. The fact that I had foolishly deposited my rifle in the truck limited my ability to mount any kind of an argument.

Armed only with the rabbit distress call, I jammed it into my mouth and blasted on it as loud as my adrenalin-charged lungs could manage. I was fully inspired and the volume impressed even me. It certainly confused the bear. It also seemed to dissipate the brain-gas that had rendered me inert on my fanny. I suddenly came to my mind, stood up and frantically waved my arms while continuing to squeal as loud as I could on the call. The bear swapped ends and squealed out for the brush. I would like to say that at that moment I really didn't know who was the most frightened, the bear or me. I eventually made it home where I now sit reflecting on how foolish it is to imitate prey in the presence of a massive predator. I learned something today that is important for "bush" survival. Being a Presbyterian, which means every personal experience eventually gets looked at through the lens of the Bible, I also learned something with regards to "spiritual survival."

Speaking about spiritual survival, I Peter 5:8 warns: "Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." The interesting thing is that not only do I not heed this serious warning in Scripture, I often wander around spiritually imitating prey. I tend to live my life, on one hand drunk with denial of the devil's presence and on the other hand tempting him by acting like easy quarry. 1 Peter says, "sober up" and "resist."

For me, this means: Stop foolishly denying the presence of evil and the evil one. Stop acting and sounding like a spiritual bunny when the truth is that in Christ I am made spiritually strong. Stop cloaking myself with any kind of evil or unrighteousness that attracts the devil like dung attracts flies. Stop letting doubt rule in my life. Stop limiting the effect of salvation in my living, when salvation means I really am a child of God. Stop ignoring the powerful Word of God collecting dust on my nightstand. Stop ignoring the need for prayer power in my life. The apostle Paul puts all of this in the affirmative as he advises the Ephesians: "Stand your ground, putting on the sturdy belt of truth and the body armour of God's righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News, so that you will be fully prepared. In every battle you will need faith as your shield to stop the fiery arrows aimed at you by Satan. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray at all times and on every occasion in the power of the Holy Spirit. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all Christians everywhere." D

Rev. David Webber is a contributing editor to the Record. He is minister of the Cariboo, B. C. house church ministry. His most recent book is Like a Winter's Aspen: Embracing the Creator's Fire.