Recently, a feature article on beards appeared in the Danville Register and Bee. Marie Stewart made me aware of the article and told me that in it several men shared why they grew their beards. Then Marie said, “Danny, I’ve just got to know. Why did you grow your beard?” I laughed and said, “Well, Marie, that sounds like something I’ll need to write about in a blog.” “Oh, please do,” she said. So, here it is...a blog about beards.
The timing of this is quite interesting. After all, it just dawned on me that I am standing on the threshold of the 10th anniversary of the birthday of my beard. It was during Easter season back in 1998…back before the dawning of the new millennium. My church in Florida was preparing for a major Easter musical drama, with our choir & cast all outfitted in biblical period attire. My wife Sandy was serving as our Interim Minister of Music at the time. Several of the men decided to add to the air of authenticity by growing beards. Since I had a minor solo in the production, I decided to grow a beard as well. I didn’t really feel an urgency to grow it to be biblically authentic. Rather, I had always wanted to grow a beard, and as a pastor there really had never been much opportunity for me to grow one. The only time I had attempted a beard was back in my seminary days, and I learned then that I was a slow-grower when it came to facial hair. So I needed a good cover or excuse to take the time needed to grow a decent beard. And this Easter musical provided me with such an opportunity.
Once I grew the beard, I liked it, and decided to keep it. I really liked the idea of not shaving. But there was another side benefit as well. A lot of people thought it made me look older. And I liked that. Because there was actually a time in my life when a lot of folks thought I was about 10 years younger than I really was. One time when I was in my early 30s pastoring a church in North Carolina, a traveling salesman came to the door of the church parsonage. When I answered the door, he said, “Hello, young man, is your father at home?” “No,” I replied, “he actually lives a few hundred miles from here.”
So, the beard gave me the appearance of greater maturity. And I liked that. Later on, with the passage of time, as I started getting older and closing in on AARP membership eligibility, I started wondering if I should shave it back off to look younger. But then I was afraid of what I might discover underneath. And I certainly didn’t want to scare anybody. For, you see, our church in Florida increased in membership and had quite a bit of turnover during the years I was there. Ultimately, we reached a point where most of our membership had never even seen me without a beard. Only a very few even remembered the way I used to look. So, I didn’t want to send anybody into shock. And now the same is true at Mount Hermon. Only a handful of members remember me as a clean-shaven guy from 20 years ago. Most folks have no idea what lurks under this beard.
Sometimes guys think that growing a beard makes them appear more manly, you know, like Grizzly Adams or Chuck Norris. But it didn’t work for me. Most people said my beard made me look more like a Teddy bear. One person even said I looked like a Koala bear. But I promise you that I’ve never even been to Australia and I don't have much of a taste for eucalyptus leaves.
Over time, my church in Florida added several staff members that had beards. I guess beards, like birds, have a way of flocking together! (By the way, have you noticed a new trend at Mount Hermon? Our new Youth Minister has a beard. Sounds like a conspiracy, doesn't it? But thankfully our new Children’s Minister is not similarly inclined!) At one point, I think virtually the whole staff in Florida had beards. (Not the secretaries mind you, just the male ministers! We were in the same state as Ringling Brothers, but we weren’t running a circus!)
The timing of this is quite interesting. After all, it just dawned on me that I am standing on the threshold of the 10th anniversary of the birthday of my beard. It was during Easter season back in 1998…back before the dawning of the new millennium. My church in Florida was preparing for a major Easter musical drama, with our choir & cast all outfitted in biblical period attire. My wife Sandy was serving as our Interim Minister of Music at the time. Several of the men decided to add to the air of authenticity by growing beards. Since I had a minor solo in the production, I decided to grow a beard as well. I didn’t really feel an urgency to grow it to be biblically authentic. Rather, I had always wanted to grow a beard, and as a pastor there really had never been much opportunity for me to grow one. The only time I had attempted a beard was back in my seminary days, and I learned then that I was a slow-grower when it came to facial hair. So I needed a good cover or excuse to take the time needed to grow a decent beard. And this Easter musical provided me with such an opportunity.
Once I grew the beard, I liked it, and decided to keep it. I really liked the idea of not shaving. But there was another side benefit as well. A lot of people thought it made me look older. And I liked that. Because there was actually a time in my life when a lot of folks thought I was about 10 years younger than I really was. One time when I was in my early 30s pastoring a church in North Carolina, a traveling salesman came to the door of the church parsonage. When I answered the door, he said, “Hello, young man, is your father at home?” “No,” I replied, “he actually lives a few hundred miles from here.”
So, the beard gave me the appearance of greater maturity. And I liked that. Later on, with the passage of time, as I started getting older and closing in on AARP membership eligibility, I started wondering if I should shave it back off to look younger. But then I was afraid of what I might discover underneath. And I certainly didn’t want to scare anybody. For, you see, our church in Florida increased in membership and had quite a bit of turnover during the years I was there. Ultimately, we reached a point where most of our membership had never even seen me without a beard. Only a very few even remembered the way I used to look. So, I didn’t want to send anybody into shock. And now the same is true at Mount Hermon. Only a handful of members remember me as a clean-shaven guy from 20 years ago. Most folks have no idea what lurks under this beard.
Sometimes guys think that growing a beard makes them appear more manly, you know, like Grizzly Adams or Chuck Norris. But it didn’t work for me. Most people said my beard made me look more like a Teddy bear. One person even said I looked like a Koala bear. But I promise you that I’ve never even been to Australia and I don't have much of a taste for eucalyptus leaves.
Over time, my church in Florida added several staff members that had beards. I guess beards, like birds, have a way of flocking together! (By the way, have you noticed a new trend at Mount Hermon? Our new Youth Minister has a beard. Sounds like a conspiracy, doesn't it? But thankfully our new Children’s Minister is not similarly inclined!) At one point, I think virtually the whole staff in Florida had beards. (Not the secretaries mind you, just the male ministers! We were in the same state as Ringling Brothers, but we weren’t running a circus!)
One day, a guy at my Florida church put a written message in the offering plate that said, “Surveys show that Americans generally don’t trust people in leadership positions that have beards. Therefore, I think our church staff should seriously consider shaving.” I thought he was kidding. When I talked to him face-to-face, I quickly found out he was dead serious. Well, I told him to hurry up and sell his Gillette stock because it just wasn’t happening. The guy soon decided to move his membership to another church with a bald-faced pastor. By the way, I never did find out what “survey” he was supposedly quoting. When I pressed him for more info, he didn’t know either. He admitted the he just heard that somebody somewhere had somehow done some survey at sometime. Hmm.
Regardless of surveys, it is interesting to note that our country has not had a president with facial hair since William Howard Taft, who lost his bid for re-election in 1912. In 1944 and again in 1948, the Republicans nominated the last presidential candidate with facial hair, mustachioed Thomas E. Dewey of New York, who lost to clean-shaven FDR and Harry S Truman respectively. Since that time, presidential politics have been totally clean-shaven (if not clean).
Actually, if you go back in history, the Republican Party has the hairiest legacy. The GOP was really stylin’ from 1860 to 1912—the hairiest period in the history of the republic. During that era, our nation had 6 bearded presidents and 3 mustachioed presidents (out of a total 11). The only 2 clean-shaven guys were Andrew Johnson, who was impeached, and William McKinley, who got assassinated. (Read your own assumptions into those incidents.) Of those 9 follicly-abundant chief executives, only one—Grover Cleveland—was a Democrat (and he merely had a mustache). By the way, we’re still waiting for a Democrat president with a beard…but I don’t believe Hillary will be able to pull it off (either the presidency or the beard!) Abraham Lincoln, of course, was our first bearded president, growing the beard shortly after his election in 1860 at the suggestion of someone that thought he might look better with some face covering. Good ole Benjamin Harrison was our last completely whiskered commander-in-chief, exiting the White House in 1893.
Some people, like the aforementioned former member of my church in Florida, think it’s strange for a preacher to have a beard. One of my great preaching heroes, however, is the late Charles Haddon Spurgeon of England. Like a lot of 19th Century males, Spurgeon, that “prince of preachers”, boasted quite a healthy-looking beard. I’ve seen a few pictures of a young Spurgeon without facial hair and—believe you me—he looks a whole lot better with some coverage. (If you see younger pictures of me, you might arrive at a similar assessment.)
Down in Cuba, this whole beard thing is quite interesting. You don’t really see all that many Cubans with beards. For one thing, it really gets hot in Cuba. But, for another thing, Fidel Castro and his band of young revolutionaries were so identified as “the bearded ones” back in their day that a lot of folks today don’t really want to emulate that image, which has come to represent failure, oppression, power-grabbing and broken promises. Interestingly, from the first time I visited Cuba, I learned that you’re never to speak Castro’s name aloud, so as to avoid suspicion that you were saying something derogatory about him. So, whenever you want to refer to El Presidente, you simply stroke your chin silently, and people instantly know of whom you're speaking without you even uttering a word.
Somehow it seems interesting that the 10th anniversary of my beard coincides with “the bearded one” stepping down after 49 years as the leader of Cuba. I have no idea what either of those things has to do with the other, but it’s interesting nonetheless.
Pastor Danny
Regardless of surveys, it is interesting to note that our country has not had a president with facial hair since William Howard Taft, who lost his bid for re-election in 1912. In 1944 and again in 1948, the Republicans nominated the last presidential candidate with facial hair, mustachioed Thomas E. Dewey of New York, who lost to clean-shaven FDR and Harry S Truman respectively. Since that time, presidential politics have been totally clean-shaven (if not clean).
Actually, if you go back in history, the Republican Party has the hairiest legacy. The GOP was really stylin’ from 1860 to 1912—the hairiest period in the history of the republic. During that era, our nation had 6 bearded presidents and 3 mustachioed presidents (out of a total 11). The only 2 clean-shaven guys were Andrew Johnson, who was impeached, and William McKinley, who got assassinated. (Read your own assumptions into those incidents.) Of those 9 follicly-abundant chief executives, only one—Grover Cleveland—was a Democrat (and he merely had a mustache). By the way, we’re still waiting for a Democrat president with a beard…but I don’t believe Hillary will be able to pull it off (either the presidency or the beard!) Abraham Lincoln, of course, was our first bearded president, growing the beard shortly after his election in 1860 at the suggestion of someone that thought he might look better with some face covering. Good ole Benjamin Harrison was our last completely whiskered commander-in-chief, exiting the White House in 1893.
Some people, like the aforementioned former member of my church in Florida, think it’s strange for a preacher to have a beard. One of my great preaching heroes, however, is the late Charles Haddon Spurgeon of England. Like a lot of 19th Century males, Spurgeon, that “prince of preachers”, boasted quite a healthy-looking beard. I’ve seen a few pictures of a young Spurgeon without facial hair and—believe you me—he looks a whole lot better with some coverage. (If you see younger pictures of me, you might arrive at a similar assessment.)
Down in Cuba, this whole beard thing is quite interesting. You don’t really see all that many Cubans with beards. For one thing, it really gets hot in Cuba. But, for another thing, Fidel Castro and his band of young revolutionaries were so identified as “the bearded ones” back in their day that a lot of folks today don’t really want to emulate that image, which has come to represent failure, oppression, power-grabbing and broken promises. Interestingly, from the first time I visited Cuba, I learned that you’re never to speak Castro’s name aloud, so as to avoid suspicion that you were saying something derogatory about him. So, whenever you want to refer to El Presidente, you simply stroke your chin silently, and people instantly know of whom you're speaking without you even uttering a word.
Somehow it seems interesting that the 10th anniversary of my beard coincides with “the bearded one” stepping down after 49 years as the leader of Cuba. I have no idea what either of those things has to do with the other, but it’s interesting nonetheless.
Pastor Danny