Flatlander Faith

Apologetics from an Anabaptist perspective

Tag Archives: beard

About that beard on my face

Why did I ever decide to grow hair on my face?

The answer should be obvious – I didn’t. It grew all by itself, without any decision or effort on my part.

That brings up another question – Why do I leave it there? The best answer is the simplest one – I decided that if God made the hair to grow on my face it would probably be pleasing to Him if I let it be seen.

That was all there was to it. I didn’t engage in deep theological reflection when I made that decision. Neither did I find any command in the Bible that told me I had to wear a beard. There is no such command in the Bible. I believe the reason for that is that God doesn’t endow all men with the potential to grow hair on the face. Thus He must be OK with the fact that such men don’t have beards, and the rest of us should be too.

There are indications in the Bible, though, that it is a shame and a disgrace for a man who has a beard to have it removed. I don’t think that’s really a doctrinal proof of the need for a beard. Just another indication that it would be a good idea for me to let mine be seen.

I do trim my beard regularly. I don’t want to look like an old prospector who lives in a remote cabin and rarely show his face in public.

The hair on top of my head gets more sparse with the passing years. A barber tried to console me once by saying that we don’t really lose hair as we get older. It just starts to show up in different places – the eyebrows grow bushier, tufts of hair grow out of our ears and nostrils.

At least I think he was trying to console me. One might as well face the changes wrought by passing years with humour. My barber now trims my eyebrows every time I get a haircut. And I do my best to keep the ear and nose hairs trimmed back so they don’t become noticeable.

For the same reason, if a lady finds dark hairs growing on her chin, I believe it’s entirely permissible for her to take whatever measures are needed to make them disappear. In fact, I would highly recommend that she do that.

But I am quite OK with the hair growing on my face. I don’t let my beard grow too long, though. One of my granddaughters used to express an interest in trying to braid it. I thought it best to keep the beard short enough that braiding wouldn’t be possible.

Finding home

The factory where I found work made engineered rubber parts for the automobile industry. I was started on the press line, where rows of hydraulic presses produced vast quantities of rubber parts. The moulds were maintained at tempertures above 300° F to cure the rubber. I started when the weather was already hot and humid and it was even hotter and more humid working over those moulds. It was a shock to the body of this prairie boy, but soon I was acclimatized.

While I was being trained I could not help but be aware of Howie. He was operating several presses and every once in a while parts would not release from the moulds as they should. There would be loud yells and banging sounds coming from Howie’s direction. I decided I would do well to keep my distance from him.

The second week I was given presses to run by myself. The first time I had parts stick to the underside of the top part of the mould and began trying awkwardly to get them down, Howie appeared beside me and took the bar from my hands. He got the parts down and then showed me once again how much mould release to spray on that part of the mould. Then he was back to his own work leaving me to meditate on how mistaken a first impression can be. Howie was a loudmouth, but turned out to be a good guy, easy to get alnog with.

Chris began making arrangements to move as soon as she knew I had work. It took me a couple more weeks to find a place to live but before the month was over we were together again.Chris packed everything that could be put in boxes, sold the rest and shipped the boxes by train. Then she and Michelle rode the train from Moose Jaw to Toronto where I picked them up.

It was the last Sunday in June when we drove into the St Marys churchyard as a family for the first time. As we got out of the car, a young lad, almost eight years old, walked up to us and said “Welcome to St Marys.” And we did feel welcomed by everybody.

In September Michelle started Grade One in the Mapleview Christian School. She enjoyed school and we felt assurance in knowing that her friends were the children of our friends.

At first we had invitations to the members’ homes every Sunday, but after several months that tapered off. One Sunday the brother whom I had first met asked me how things were going. I replied that life was working out well for us, but we weren’t getting invited out much anymore. He pondered that for a moment, then asked if we had invited anyone to our home. Bingo! Immediately I felt reproved and knew what we had to do. We started inviting others for meals, most often Sunday dinners, and that warmed and strengthened our fellowship with the congregation.

We had several visits with the ministers and deacons and were asked to tell our experiences to the congregation one Sunday evening. The congregation voted their acceptance that we had truly met the Lord, were born again and were living as Christians by the leading of the Holy Spirit. Sunday morning, February 11, 1979, we  were baptized by minister Robert Toews.

The day after our baptism, a vivid memory of a time long ago flashed into my mind. Just after being confirmed in the Anglican Church as an eleven year old boy I had knelt and gone through the questions in the little red book of self-examination before communion. Now God was telling me: “That was when I first called you to come to me. During all your wanderings I have continued to call you and now you are part of my family.”

And I was finally a Mennonite who wore a beard.

Preface

Half a century ago a drunken young man announced to a couple of friends that one day he would be a Mennonite and wear a beard. His friends dismissed this as babbling inspired by the booze he had consumed. The young man himself was bewildered. The few Mennonites he had met, from his mother’s side of the family, had not inspired any longing to be like them. He had never seen a Mennonite who wore a beard, didn’t know if he wanted to be a Christian, or even if there was such a thing as a real Christian.

Over the next twelve years he quit drinking, quit smoking cigars, became a Christian, got married and started a family, in that order. Then he and his wife joined a Mennonite church, one that is of the persuasion that if hair grows on a man’s face it doesn’t make sense to try to remove all trace of that hair each morning.

That drunken declaration was prophetic, springing from a longing within that took the young man years to understand. It is now apparent that the longing came from God, and that over the years He continued to prompt and nudge that young man in ways that would allow that longing to become a living faith.

This book is the story of all that led up to that unexpected statement and all that happened after to make it become reality, despite the bumbling confusion of the young man, who was me. I am an old man now, and look back in wonder at that journey.

I hope that my story will encourage others to trust that there is light for the pathway and unexpected moments of joy in the journey, even when one is stubborn and doubtful of the way.

[With this post I am beginning a memoir of my spiritual journey, which I hope to publish before I get too old for stuff like this. The working title, for now at least, is One Day I Will be a Mennonite and Wear a Beard. I encourage readers to offer critiques and comments. Tell me what works and what doesn’t. Does my writing style put you to sleep? Do I offer too much information, or not enough? Your thoughts are welcome.]

Why I wear a beard

Well, it’s not a decision I have to make every morning, like deciding if this is short sleeve or long sleeve weather, it just grows there. I would have to physically remove it with some kind of blade every morning if I didn’t want it.

Now, I think that if God made me in such a way that hair grows on my face, it shows a little respect to Him to leave it there. But there is no commandment in the Bible saying that a man must wear a beard. A good thing, too. There are men who would be in serious trouble if there was such a command, since hair does not grow on their faces. God does not command them to do what they are not able to do.

There is a verse in the Old Testament that says “Thou shalt no mar the corners of thy beard.” Again, that can’t apply to men who cannot grow a beard in the first place. Just what it does mean is a subject of much discussion. Hasidic Jews believe that it refers to where the hair line meets the beard line in front of the ears. Therefore, they grow that side hair long, so that it hangs in ringlets over top of their beards as hard and fast evidence that they have not marred the corners of their beards. Good for them. I’m not convinced, though. Consequently, I do not have any ringlets.

Wearing a beard is a very simple thing for me – it grows, so I let it grow. I do try to keep it neatly trimmed, though, so that I don’t look like I’ve spent the past six months holed up in a cabin in the bush.

%d bloggers like this: