May 7, 2008

To Shave Or Not To Shave

My new pair of glasses came in on Tuesday...the first change of frames I have had since about 1997. The old glasses, magnificent warriors they were, were looking a bit scraggly and, to be completely honest, downright scary around the eye pads. Not kidding...they are green. The folks at the optometrist office let out an audible "Eeewww" and gathered around them as if they were looking at a dead opossum or something when I took them off. Anyway...picked out the new frames, they came yesterday...and I have a new face. But (if all goes according to plan) this will only be phase one.

Because I have decided to grow a goatee.

Yes, yes, I know. I've tried this whole "facial hair" thing before with disastrous results. Yes, I remember The Great Mustache Debacle of 1998. Yes, I remember my friends calling it my "Rookie Cop Mustache" and referring to me as "Officer Kowolski." Yes, I remember my friend begging me to shave before standing at his wedding...and then having to cringe as I looked at the pictures months later. No, no one noticed it...and, yes, when they did they usually had to force back laughter. These memories all remain.

But I think that I can do it this time...that I'm older, wiser, and (God willing) more able. I think I can pull it off...and I'm motivated (I know...says the Buffalo Bills.) So I'm going to try it. Which begs the question:

Why? Why take the next 9 months (conservative estimate) to grow facial hair? Why subject yourself to the snickers and non-stop questions? Don't you have a zone of zero-hair growth you refer to as the "No Man's Land" that would separate this theoretical goatee into a mustache and awkward chin-cover? On top of that...why now?

As my obvious lack of posting indicates, things have been up-and-down since about the turn of the year, with the last few months in particular leaving me feeling like a punching bag. Mission trips have been ignored, worried over, and then canceled, an increasing number of tasks have been placed on my desk, running has been avoided, and I have set-up a summer home in the not-so magical land of self-pity where I enjoy spending time thinking about "Nirvana Presbyterian Church"...the place where the sermons will come easily, the parishioners will never begin sentences with "You should...," and the pastor will be seen for the saint/genius/pariah that he is. And so, to be honest, I have spent my share of time wallowing around the muck the past few months...thinking only about what I feel God has left out instead of what God is putting in.

But I'm getting a feeling that a corner has been turned...thanks to a few therapy session with Saint Julie (yeah...I talked to the Vatican), having some good talks with friends and mentors, and pretty much deciding that moping around wasn't doing any good. I have stepped back and asked God to give me new eyes for old things. I've started to once again look at this church and what it means to be a pastor here (or anywhere for that matter.) And I've remembered that saying from seminary: "You can't force a system to change...you can only change yourself."

And along the way I've felt the urge to grow some facial hair. In general, those I've run it by from the congregation seem supportive/intrigued/eager to see a train wreck. My proposal passed the Presbyterian Women with flying colors and was met with a general "Why Not?" support from friends at Presbytery. Julie, no doubt considering the whole kissing-as-exfoliant for three weeks...er...three months, has adopted the well-used "Slight shake of the head with a smile: my husband's a freak...but for some reason I love him" posture. She seems to be in...for now...probably because she knows what's going on.

It was nailed on the head by our Executive Presbyter who responded, when I told him of my plans, with the following question: "Wait...you've only been a Presbyterian pastor for a year and a half and you're already this eager for change?"

Darn right I am. Let's shake things up. Let's look at this whole pastor thing differently. Let's get a little crazy. Let's try something. Let's not care what people think. Let's try something we've always wanted to try.

Let's change. Let it grow, baby...let it grow.