It’s been a while since I’ve posted here. In an effort to devote more writing time to my book, I’m writing less frequently. To make up for that, I’ve starting doing audio newsletters for paid subscribers on weeks I don’t write. (See my first one here.)
Today, however, I had something I needed to say quick a minute:
Sitting in church yesterday, I settled in for a sermon on Leviticus. Our church is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year and we’re doing so by celebrating “jubilee”—God’s command to Israelites to observe a sabbath of the land every 50 years. Announced by a trumpet heralding the Day of Atonement, God’s people were to “consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants” (Lev 15:10). In that year of jubilee, land was returned to individuals who had lost it through debt and indentured servants were returned to their families. These practices reflected God’s commands: “Do not take advantage of each other, but fear your God” (Lev 25:17), and served as a reminder that “the land is mine and you reside in my land as foreigners and strangers” (Lev 25:23).
All of these are lovely sentiments, and ones not unfamiliar to me. But then my ears perked up. The topic, unexpectedly, had turned to beards: “Do not cut the hair at the sideas of your head or clip off the edges of your beard” (Lev. 19:27).
These words rang a bell. Not long ago, I’d come across them in a memorable Desiring God post a few weeks back. (I think it will go down as one of my all-time DG favorites.)
The author included this Leviticus passage and many, many more, to make the argument that “Beards protest against a world gone mad. They testify, in their own bristly way, that sex distinctions matter.”
Do they, though?
Why other possible reason could there be for this biblical injuction to preserve bushy beards and unruly sideburns?
My (admittedly smooth-faced) pastor Karen Campbell explained. She pointed out how, in Leviticus, the flourishing of God’s people is linked to the flourishing of the land. In Leviticus 19:9, it reads: “When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the glenaings of your havest. Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the Lord your God.”
She went on:
The book of Leviticus gives a plethora of guidelines to encourage deep holy living. What is striking is that this is not just a personal holiness code but it affects relationships with God, neighbor and land. The deep intrinsic interdependence between humanity and land is suggested through the use of anthropomorphism. Ellen Davis in her book Opening Israel’s Scriptures describes how the land often acts as a mirror to humans.
In Leviticus 19:9 and 19:27 the same Hebrew word for ‘edge-growth’ is used to refer to both land and humans. Yahweh instructs the people to ensure the poor and hungry are fed by leaving an edge of growth around their fields to enable sojourners to glean freely. Interestingly, the same word emerges in an instruction for men not to round off the edge of growth on their heads or spoil the edge of growth on their beards. It is as if what is supposed to happen on the land is mirrored in the farmer’s face. As a farmer rubs his hands across his rough, bristly chin, it serves as a reminder to leave an edge of growth for the poor. Intentional uncropped facial hair serves as a mirror to uncropped land that he “may be reminded of the peculiar mystery of their shared existence, their interdependency and common dependence on the grace of God” (Davis, 2019, 77).
So yes, a beard may well be seen as a sign of biblical masculinity. Every time a man strokes his beard—to ponder something, perhaps even the nature of his own manhood and the extent of his power—he is reminded of his need to care for the poor, the foreigners, the marginalized.
Or, as Pastor Karen put it:
Perhaps there is another way to view our bodies in relation to our position as image bearers and stewards in this world. Perhaps rather than constructing an image it might be a signal to care. Perhaps rather than self-worth being attached to how others value us, there can be an intrinsic worth derived from the deep love and care coming from our Maker. Maybe Leviticus is a timely call to inhabit love for God, ourselves, our neighbors and our land more faithfully.
Beards do, then, “protest against a world gone mad,” testifying “in their own bristly way” that we are to honor God by caring for the least of these and acting as a reminder that masculine physical traits might serve as tangible reminders to use one’s God-given gifts to protect the vulnerable.
Strikes me funny as all I can picture Is Mel Gibson’s beard. It’s he-man size.
Uh-oh, my wife likes my beard closely cropped. Nevertheless, a fascinating reminder that we’re not to grasp for the very last dollar.