The Law of Moustache

The Law of Moustache

"Nice chest hair." My wife says to me. A rather unexpected comment, considering I'm wearing a collared shirt. I brush it off and resume my work. A few minutes later; "Nice chest hair." My wife rarely comments on my appearance, (which probably says something) and why she was picking that feature didn't make any sense to me. "Whatever" I mutter as I leave the room, pre-occupied in thought with household bills.

And then I see it. My two top buttons have been undone! Now this is the bona-fide truth: I have no memory of undoing my buttons: I'm rather diligent with my buttons in fact, and this particular shirt has extra buttons that I like keeping done up, so this struck me as a surprise. The collared shirt with the low buttons and tuft of chest hair sticking out raised my sleaze factor significantly and I winced at my appearance.

I know that I didn't unbutton my shirt. This has never happened before. There is only one factor that is different in my life this month, and that is the fact that I have decided to grow a handlebar moustache. Suddenly, it all makes sense. No rational person could ever choose to create the abbhorent sleazy moustache-and-chest hair look. As I discovered this morning, The fact is that moustaches repel buttons. Sleazy facial hair begets sleazy body hair, like begets like, it all makes sense now. No one deliberately designed the sleazy look, it just kinda happens to a guy when he fails to shave his upper lip.

Moustaches can be likened to evil. Evil is the great inscrutable mystery: it defies rational explanation. Try if you will to even define evil. The greatest philosophers through the centuries have noticed that evil can only be described in terms of privation of the good. That is, evil isn't anything, it's a distortion, a lack of what the good is. Evil is disorder, lawlessness, irrationality. Evil is that which is juxtaposed to all that is good, benevolent and orderly. If evil could be explained, it would disappear, for if evil could be explained that would be conceding that it submits to rational categories and may be harmonized with a logically ordered universe. But evil is disorder, it is the very evilness of evil that defies explanation.

Moustaches are like that. They are a privation of good fashion sense, a violation of the laws of aesthetics, a senseless affront to beauty. Hence, they repel buttons and turn respectable gentlemen into perverted-looking sleazebags.

Moustaches are an evil that has chosen to bypass the female gender and afflict only males. However more depraved the world may be due to the presence of moustaches, it pales in comparison to another greater evil that afflicts only men: prostate cancer. This is why I have chosen to bear the Mo this month: to bear this unsightly burden as a reminder to the world that we men face a far greater peril than unsightly facial hair.

In Canada, 4,300 men will die of Prostate Cancer this year. For this reason, men all over the world are growing moustaches this month of "Movember" to proclaim the plight of our fellow men with oversized and diseased prostate glands.

The good news is that prostate cancer is preventable, and relative to a few other cancers, actually has a high survival rate. Possibly for this reason, it is often deemed an insignificant disease. Nevertheless, it still afflicts 1 in 6 men, and 24,600 men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer this year alone, not including undiagnosed cases due to an unwillingness on many men's part to get regular check-ups. The worst part is, like the moustache, prostate cancer death is preventable. I encourage you, if you have enjoyed this blog post, found it informative, or at least gave you a smile, please consider donating to Prostate Cancer Canada. http://www.prostatecancer.ca/ Every cent counts. Research must continue, prevention must take place, and awareness needs to be raised. None of this can take place without adequate funding. Last year Canadian "Mo bros" raised $7.8 million for Prostate Cancer Canada. Let's keep up this generous tradition.

Even if prostate cancer isn't a visible, in-your-face evil, the moustache is, and the sooner we rid the earth of this disease, the sooner we can get around to enjoying our Novembers moustache-free.

Miraculous Maturity

I have floated around a number of denominations and churches throughout my brief Christian walk ('bout 12 years now), and no group of Christians have struck me to be quite as incomprehensible as the “miracle chaser” group. Some of you may not have met these kind of people yet, but there is a distinct Christian sub-culture out there that is kind of like...well, miracle potheads. They can't stop thinking about miracles, and spend 99% of their extra-curricular time looking for the latest miracle revival service, or trying to figure out where the Holy Spirit is going to show up in some out-of-this world way. It can pretty stupid sometimes. Well no, that's not entirely accurate. It can get really stupid. I've seen people pick up glitter off the floor thinking God has just turned some of the dust of the room into gold. Others have gotten into such a miracle-buzz that they think catching a bus has been a miraculous intervention of the Lord. They're not joking either: it's not some off-the cuff comment about their inability to manage their time, they actually think God came down from heaven and miraculously caused the bus to come by when it wasn't scheduled to.

This group has puzzled me for awhile, and not a few times I have attempted to appreciate this movement from the inside. However, try as I might, I could not get into the “swing of things” by working myself up into a miracle-frenzy. There is a temperament disconnect there: obviously this movement isn't exactly friendly to those who enjoy reflection and asking philosophical questions. More than just temperament though, I couldn't in good conscience label as “miraculous” every day events that seem entirely natural, nor could I find in the bible any support for the notion that miracles are the meat and potatoes of the Christian's thought life and good works.

But what seemed so unappealing and patently false to me nevertheless holds great appeal for many others. For many years now, I could offer no explanation for why so many people jump headlong into this movement. To that extent, I have actually had alot of doubt about my rejection of the movement: it defies rational explanation. Could it be that God really is obsessed with performing random miraculous events to make people believe in him, and I should follow suit? I feel almost embarrassed admitting that this movement has held some sort of sway on my mind, but anyone who has attended these bizarre revival-healing-miracle get-togethers probably understands what I'm talking about. The sheer social energy of these meetings and the charismatic magnetism and rhetorical skill of some of the public leaders of the movement really has a force that wants to draw you in.

Is there a rational explanation beyond “social energy”? The group dynamic can be easily explained: you see it all the time at sports arenas, political rallies, and mass public protests. It makes sense that such group dynamics would show up in religious meetings as well. But what sway does it have for an individual?

A sermon I heard a few weeks ago helped me explain this. A few facts first.

Western culture is generally Naturalistic in its view of reality. Religion is seen as something private, and the public realm is the realm of “neutral” cause and effect. The workplace is governed by economic laws, the government by legislation and party politics, our physical world is governed by scientific law. If you want to believe in God, in miracles, in something beyond what you see and can measure, do it at home please.

Christians, insofar as they are Christians at all, do not find themselves driven exclusively by economic, scientific, and political realities. They are driven by religious ones, and to the extent that they see themselves as followers of Christ is the extent to which they will want to follow Christ out in public. We want God in our work, in our political views, in our science. More than any other name, God is referred to in the bible as “Lord”. The most important Christian confession ever penned, the Apostle's creed, begins with the hearty affirmation: “I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.” To keep Yahweh hidden away at home is a violation of the central tenets of the faith we confess.

Christians believe in a supernatural world. The universe didn't pop into being out of nothing by no one for no purpose at all. It has a Creator, this Creator is good, and He governs the universe for a purpose towards an end. Nevertheless, there is a social alienation we Christians experience in a society where we are welcome to believe whatever we want, but we are expected to behave publicly within certain generally accepted naturalistic parameters.

I think the miracle-chaser movement largely grows out of a response to this alienation. It is not just mass groups getting together in a miracle-loving frenzy. It is private, genuine believers struggling to come to terms with how their supernatural faith is to be expressed in a naturalistic society. To the extent that a Christian feels pressure to live in a naturalistic world is the extent to which he will experience doubt over whether his faith in a Supernatural God is true. He needs objective confirmation that the world is not as the Naturalists say it is.

Herein I think lies a plausible explanation. It is one thing to experience a genuine miracle, or several. It is quite another to actively hunt for them, and to get oneself into miracle-hunting thought habits. But if one's faith is weak, and the pressure from naturalism is constant, I suppose it seems “reasonable” to feed oneself spiritually with a constant diet of miraculous occurrences. Bus arrivals become miraculous, dust bunnies become gold, frenzied emotions become a supernatural encounter with God. They need to, or else faith cannot survive.

In my 12-something years of following Jesus, I believe my faith has moved from baby-stage to something more mature. Not finished, but deeper, more well-rounded, informed and more consistent in its expression. (Though still wanting in many ways in all of the above) In retrospect, miracle-hunting is an expression of a baby faith, a faith under pressure, struggling to learn to walk. Eventually, a Christian needs to give up their baby faith and move onto maturity. This is a struggle: learning to walk is very, very hard in my experience. While miracles give us a glimpse of proof that the world is not as the Naturalists say it is, miracles alone cannot bring us out of the struggle with naturalistic doubts. One of the pieces of a mature faith is knowing why naturalism is false, knowing why “God the Father Almighty” is the only God and only Reality we are to acknowledge in our hearts and minds. It is not a raw display of God's power that brings us to maturity, it is truth that brings maturity to faith. “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.” (Jn 17:17)

One caveat: this is not to say that maturity is just a matter of book-learning and sorting through competing worldview arguments. Part of learning the truth is doing the truth. God gives us commands, and we are to practice them, and grow towards excellence in obedience to them. If all of our exposure to the truth of the Word is merely theoretical, we will find ourselves with the same emaciated faith of the miracle-hunters.