Sermon for August 17th, 2014
Psalm 133
1How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! 2 It is like the precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down over the collar of his robes. 3 It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion. For there the Lord ordained his blessing, life forevermore.
Is There Oil In Your Beard
If you've ever seen a picture of John Calvin, one of the founding fathers of Presbyterianism, you know that he was a man with a beard. And what a beard it was! Not a big, bushy, sloppy beard like you see on Duck Dynasty or ZZ Top, but a long, crisp, well tailored beard that began wide at the top and narrowed down to a sharp point somewhere in the middle of his chest. The same is true of John Knox, another founder of Presbyterianism. In fact, there's a famous wall in Geneva, Switzerland called the "Reformation Wall." Along this wall are featured giant statues of the four great reformers: John Calvin, John Knox, Theodore Beza, and William Farel...and their great, reformed beards are featured as well.
By contrast, Martin Luther (founder of Lutheranism) and John Wesley (founder of the Methodists) were rather bald in the chin.
The great 19th century reformed theologian Charles Spurgeon had this to say about the matter: "Growing a beard is a habit most natural, scriptural, manly, and beneficial." But to settle the issue completely, Jesus had a beard. And so does Chuck Norris.
Given this tremendous weight of influence, I tried hard to grow a beard for this Sunday's sermon. I tried. This is about as good and as thick as it gets for me...any longer and it will be a scraggly, patchy mess. I may have to go back to seminary for additional reformed beard-training.
Needless to say, I've always admired those who, like Calvin, Spurgeon, and my own father (I obviously didn't inherit the beard gene from him) who are capable of growing big, full, thick beards. I imagine they--and no one else--could actually experience today's scripture passage, Psalm 133 in all of its fullness, where the joy of community is described as being like "precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down over the collar of his robes."
Aaron, of course, is the brother of Moses, and the chief priest among the Israelites at the time of the Exodus. Pouring costly oils or perfumes on someone's head is a practice actually found in many ancient religions everywhere from Egypt to Africa and the Middle East. In the Bible it usually symbolizes that someone is God's chosen one for a particular office--prophet, king, or in this case, high priest. It means that person is set apart, holy, special. The more oil, the more holy, so if it's pouring all the way down your face into your beard and down your robes...you must be pretty special. And we like to be special.
But to be honest, the oil on my head and in my beard and on my clothes part doesn't really sound that appealing. It sounds like a greasy mess. The closest I think I can come to understanding the joy that the psalmist is describing would be like my two year old son, Jonah, diving into a stack of pancakes loaded with syrup and butter: It's gonna get all over the place--all over his face and in his hair and on his hands and clothes. It'll be a sticky mess...and yet...he would have the time of his life. Pure joy and wild abandon. Or maybe it's like the head coach of the winning Superbowl team, when at the end of the game the players surprise him and pour a giant barrel of ice-cold Gatorade over his head. Any other time and that would be annoying or downright offensive. But in the exuberant high of winning the game of a lifetime, this has become a tradition...and I bet the coach loves every second of it.