Summer Beard Tradition

Ah, the annual beard growing tradition… It all started back in the summer of 2000 when my brother Aaron suggested we have a beard growing contest during our vacation to southern Oregon. So Matt, Dan, Aaron, me and our dad Kent all grew beards for a week. (Nate didn’t participate since he was serving a mission in Moscow and facial hair for missionaries is frowned upon.) Anyway, Aaron won that contest handily because of his prolific hair growing capabilities, not to mention the nearly black color of his facial hair. Nate and I are probably the least hairy of the five brothers. I often joke that I’m more like the smooth-skinned Jacob from the Old Testament, and that Aaron and Dan are more like Jacob’s twin brother, Essau, who was Issac’s hairy, wild and rebellious son.

Anyway, for the past seven years, I have made it an annual tradition to grow a beard. But it’s much harder these days now that I’m in the bishopric and there’s an unspoken rule (actually, it’s often spoken) that facial hair is somehow a sign of apostacy. Indeed, a friend of mine saw my most recent attempt to grow a beard and suggested that I was the “evil Andrew.” My children think it makes me look older, and even a little bit scary. My wife tolerates it because she knows that it’s just temporary — if I don’t shave it by the time I conduct in sacrament meeting this Sunday, I’ll get lots of guff and teasing from ward members.

I’m not sure why facial hair is often seen as rebelliousness in the Church. Obviously, it’s a cultural thing.  Yes, hippies, hell’s angels and pirates all sport various forms of facial hair — but then, so did most of the early chuch presidents. And have you ever seen any depiction of the Savior WITHOUT a beard? It is NEVER done.

Oh well, it’s not like I have this burning desire to grow a beard. I just like to remind myself once a year that I can… 

I know, I know. It’s not much of a beard, but it was fun while it lasted. Now where’s my Gillette Mach 3 Turbo…