Joab’s charge to play the man still endures, immortalized in Scripture. “Be of good courage, and let us be courageous for our people, and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him” (2 Samuel 10:13).

Joab, facing enemies from the front and from the rear, took some of his best men and faced the Syrians ahead. The rest of his army would turn with his brother, Abishai, to meet the Ammonites to their back. Here we find the iconic words of Joab to his brother:

“If the Syrians are too strong for me, then you shall help me, but if the Ammonites are too strong for you, then I will come and help you. Be of good courage, and let us be courageous for our people, and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him.” (2 Samuel 10:11–13)

This battle scene, equal to the best of Braveheart, Gladiator, or 300, began, if I may comb things out just slightly, with a man’s beard. Or, to be precise, the beards of several bushy men.

Sheered Like Sheep

David had sent several bearded messengers to meet the newly crowned King Hanun of the Ammonites, who succeeded his father, Nahash. David expressed his condolences for the deceased Nahash by dispatching these warm-chinned chums to “console [Hanun] concerning his father” (2 Samuel 10:2). Nahash had remained loyal to David — the neighboring kings kept the peace between each other. David’s delegates extended, as it were, the right hand of good will to Hanun.

A hand Hanun would not shake.

Led by the folly of suspicious counsel, the princes of the Ammonites convinced Hanun that these servants did not come to comfort but to conquer. “Has not David sent his servants to search the city and spy it out and to overthrow it?” (2 Samuel 10:3). And this is where things get rather hairy for the King. How should he respond?

He decides to shame David’s men and make them a spectacle. “Hanun took David’s servants and shaved off half the beard of each and cut off their garments in the middle, at their hips, and sent them away” (2 Samuel 10:4). He left multiple cheeks exposed.

Like sheep, Hanon sheered these men. These trees lost half their leaves; these lions, half their manes. When David heard of the barber-ous deed, he sent to meet them because they were “greatly ashamed.” The king acknowledged their humiliation and told them, “Remain at Jericho until your beards have grown and then return” (2 Samuel 10:5).

And what would David do next? Touch a man’s goat, and it’s time for court; touch a man’s beard, and it’s time for war.

Still Waiting in Jericho

In the twenty-first century, we might miss how hostile this act really was, how deeply shaming for an Israelite man in that day. If King Hanun cut off half of our beards today, it would be considered less shameful than strange. Also, not very effective — for each could just shave the other half off and still fit in with society. So why did this razor cut them to the heart? Why wait outside Jerusalem until it grew back? One historical commentary states, “What may seem like a ‘prank’ was in fact a direct challenge to David’s power and authority, and precipitated a war between the two nations” (336).

And beyond its spitting upon David’s outstretched hand of peace, consider the prominence of the beard in Israel.

First, in Israelite culture, the beard served as a sign of mature masculinity. All Israelite men grew beards; God commanded it, “You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard” (Leviticus 19:27). Beards were a facial billboard for manhood, distinguishing men, at first glance, from boys and women.

The full, rounded beard was a sign of manhood and a source of pride to Hebrew men. It was considered an ornament, and much care was given to its maintenance. In fact, the wealthy and important made a ceremony of caring for their beards. Custom did not allow the beard to be shaved, only trimmed (Leviticus 19:27; 21:5), except in special circumstances [such as great lament or distress, see Jeremiah 41:5; Ezra 9:3]. (Dictionary of Biblical Imagery, 80)

Thus, to cut off the peacekeeper’s beards was, quoting again, to “symbolically emasculat[e] them and by extension David” (IVP Bible Background Commentary, 336). Not to split hairs, but the beards also served as a sign of masculine might: “Beards worn during ancient periods were viewed with great reverence and often symbolized strength and virility” (Eerdman’s Dictionary of the Bible,158). To hack at it was to hack at a symbol of their manliness.

What of the Beardless?

The connection between manhood and unmown cheeks today has flowed down through church history, like oil running down the beard of Aaron (Psalm 133:2).

Augustine, commenting on Psalm 133, writes, “The beard signifies the courageous; the beard distinguishes the grown men, the earnest, the active, the vigorous. So that when we describe such, we say, he is a bearded man” (Augustine’s Commentary on Psalms, John, and 1 John). Or take Charles Spurgeon, who told his students that “Growing a beard is a habit most natural, Scriptural, manly and beneficial” (Lectures to My Students, 99). Or take ministers during the Reformation who grew manhood’s symbol to defy the celibate, clean-shaven faces of the Catholic priesthood.

Or overhear our day questioned by C.S. Lewis in The Screwtape Letters as the senior demon writes his nephew, “Thus we have now for many centuries triumphed over nature to the extent of making certain secondary characteristics of the male (such as the beard) disagreeable to nearly all the females — and there is more in that than you might suppose” (118).

So, what of the beardless?

Rome’s men were clean-shaven in biblical times (as were the Egyptians). When these beardless came to the bearded Christ, they not need grow one to enter the kingdom of God. They, like we, are saved by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone — apart from any strands of good works, lest the hairier among us boast. Of course, on the face of it, beards hold no salvific design, nor are they commanded. Even the shaved can be saved. Nor do beards make us men. Some boys living in basements, addicted to video games and porn, grow beards. But here we walk a fine line. Does this then relegate the beard, that ancient landmark, to a matter of obsolete decoration, of mere preference?

“If you walk according to your God-given masculinity, you are a bearded man, whether you have hair on your face or not.”

I know more than a few godly men who testify that though they try, the fig tree does not blossom, nor is fruit found on the vine. Little islands of hair sprout, but the lands never form the continent. They are more Jacob than Esau — whose mother glued “the skins of the young goats on his hands and on the smooth part of his neck” (Genesis 27:16) to pass as his hairy brother (and the older did come to serve the younger, Genesis 25:23; 27:15, 42). Chin wigs, my brother, are no solution.

The solution is to be the man God made you to be. Many today, if not most, will not have beards and are not the lesser for it. This article, with all its bearded banter, has nothing negative to say to you. We agree with Shakespeare that, “He that hath a beard is more than a youth,” but not when he continues, “and he that hath no beard is less than a man” (Much Ado about Nothing, 2.1). For if you walk according to your God-given and God-matured masculinity, you are a bearded man, whether you have hair on your face or not. To understand that statement, consider the wonder of why God made beards.

O Beard, Where Art Thou?

Why did God make men with the capacity to grow beards? Why grow beards at all, or why not give them to children and women, like some speculate of the dwarves of middle earth?

Is it not because God delights in the distinctions he made? The day and the night, the land and the water, the heavens and the earth, the man and the woman — “Good.” For centuries, he hid the chromosomal signatures in every cell in our bodies, where only he could delight in them, but he did not leave himself without a witness, even to the unscientific. He shaded the man’s face with his pencil from the very beginning. What ecstasy of Adam observing the beautiful and smooth face of Eve — like me, yet not.

“We paste false beards on women and shave the beards of men, catechizing the children that there isn’t any difference.”

This appreciation is under assault in many places today. Figuratively speaking, our culture dislikes everything about beards. We paste false beards on women and shave the beards of men, catechizing the children that there isn’t any difference. Hair is just hair. With enough hormones, anyone can grow them. Claiming to be wise, we have become fools, exchanging the glory of God for images (Romans 1:22–23) — and now we barter away our own.

That makes literal beards, in my opinion, worth having. Beards protest against a world gone mad. In other words, beards beard. They testify, in their own bristly way, that sex distinctions matter, that manhood will not be so easily shaven, shorn, or chopped by the Huruns of this world. Its itchy and cheeky voice bears witness, “Male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27).

As I walked briskly through downtown on a cold January morning, I asked my friend, a family lawyer, a typical small-talk question: “How are things at work?”

“It’s our busiest time of year,” he responded, “so I’m currently getting crushed.”

“Really?” I said. “That surprises me.”

“The week kids return to school following the holiday break, our office gets hammered with divorce inquiries,” he said glumly.

Initially, I was shocked. Yet as I thought more, I realized his experience as a family lawyer matched my own as a counselor and pastor. My email inbox, text messages, and voicemail go crazy in the days and weeks following the new year. Before you know it, if someone wants a counseling appointment, they are being booked into the spring.

Five Shades of January Blue

Why do so many people feel crushed after the holidays? Why are so many people hurt, sad, angry, and confused coming off a season usually marked by joy, peace, and anticipation? In my counseling, pastoring, and experience with my own heart, I’ve encountered at least five reasons January can hit us so hard.

Exhausted

First, some are simply exhausted coming out of the holiday season. We planned and attended parties. We acquired gifts. We made mad dashes to stores because someone was left off the list, or one kid had too few items. The church calendar teemed with a plethora of worship services and events from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve, half of which required some sort of extra practice or manpower. The pace of these responsibilities and opportunities, especially in contrast to the rest of the year, can seem breakneck, leading to an exhausted, strung-out feeling when the second week of January hits.

Hopeless

Second, the holidays themselves can become the foundation of our hope rather than just an expression of our joy. We can end up hoping in the sights and sounds, the people and presents, instead of simply enjoying these gifts. Anticipation of favorite flavors, favorite carols, favorite people, and what we hope will be our favorite new possession can propel us through this busy season. But when the food is eaten and the last carol has been sung, when people return to their normal lives and the presents turn out to be just more stuff to fill our homes, our spirits can crash as our hope seems to evaporate.

Dark

Third, do not discount the power of darkness. I’m not speaking metaphorically about Satan and his minions; I mean actual darkness. In the Northern Hemisphere, the short days and long nights can dramatically influence our mood and energy level. This change is just beginning to happen when the holidays arrive, but as we emerge from the holiday season, the nights are long and cold, the days are often dreary, and the world around us seems bare and lifeless as winter has had its effect. All of nature seems to reflect something of our internal assessment that life is a sad, dismal affair.

Lonely

Fourth, while the parties, worship services, and service opportunities may be demanding, they do get us around others consistently. Conversely, once the holidays are over and life returns to normal, many of us find ourselves living our modern lives of relative isolation. No more groups of people laughing and merrymaking — instead, one day bleeds into the next while we retreat to our secluded abodes, and the voices of friends and family are replaced by the digitized voices of our favorite on-screen characters.

Disappointed

Last, while the holidays can be a time of exuberant joy and excitement, for many they turn into another season of disappointment. Family interactions are difficult and painful. Husbands and wives who hope the holidays will provide respite from seasons of bitterness and disdain discover new occasions for those feelings to grow stronger. The hustle of busyness can hide a desperate loneliness. Movies, songs, and made-for-television specials trumpet how happy this season was meant to be, and you feel anything but.

Restoring Our Souls

If the holidays can leave us feeling exhausted, hopeless, dark, lonely, and disappointed, what are we to do? Praise the Lord, he does not leave us alone to muster ourselves through the January blues. Through his word, he gives us guidance for how to restore our souls.

Rest

If exhaustion is one of the primary culprits of the post-holiday crash, then one of its antidotes is genuine rest. By genuine, I do not mean simply ceasing activities, as that often accelerates the decline. Rather, I mean intentionally engaging in those activities that restore the soul, bring peace, and reinforce the safety we have under the restful yoke of Christ (Matthew 11:28–30). Putting ourselves at the feet of Christ intentionally — through worship, prayer, scriptural meditation, fellowship, singing, and even serving — strengthens and enlivens our souls.

“If exhaustion is one of the primary culprits of the post-holiday crash, then one of its antidotes is genuine rest.”

At the same time, rest is not merely a spiritual reality, but a physical one. When the fleeing, exhausted Elijah was so tired he wished his life away, God granted him the physical gifts of sleep and food (1 Kings 19:4–8). The holidays bring with them many added tasks, late nights, and imbalanced meals. If you are feeling exhausted from this season, allow your body as well as your soul a season of recovery.

Refocus

The holidays are a season of joy, and rightly so. But when a passing joy becomes the foundation of our hope, we set ourselves up for disappointment, hurt, and hopelessness. If you fail to find hope in the wake of the holidays, it may be time to readjust your heart’s focus beyond the holidays themselves.

The shining star over Bethlehem points us to the empty tomb in Jerusalem: what began in a wooden manger finds fulfillment on a wooden cross. Only when our hearts are swept up by the hope of our risen and ascended Savior will the holiday season not be the end of our joy but merely its beginning.

Recover Light

As the season’s darkness lingers, and our bodies and souls seem to languish, many of us need to be more intentional about finding light. As with rest, this truth is both spiritual and physical. Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) — and the more common subsyndromal seasonal affective disorder (SSAD) — may seem silly to some, but many who live in regions where sunlight is sparse know its effects. Recovering light physically may include getting outside while the sun is out, using daylight lamps, and even taking vitamins.

Spiritually, recovering light means bathing our souls in the glittering beauty of the gospel. Isaiah pleads with his hearers, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:5) — and Jesus, twice in the Gospel of John, affirms, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12; 9:5). Someday, when he returns to be with his people, we will live in a city that knows no darkness: “The city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23). That lamp will abolish SAD and all dark-driven sadness. Until that day, our souls need the Son as much as our bodies need the sun. Do not let the darkness of the season rob you of the light to be found in worship.

Reconnect

If you find yourself down because the season’s gatherings have ceased, and life has returned to its lonely norm, strive to reconnect in meaningful ways. While holiday get-togethers are fun, they have limited ability to provide the sort of “one-another” support Scripture is so interested in creating (see, for example, Romans 12:10; Galatians 6:2; 1 Thessalonians 5:11).

“Genuine Christian community is the reality to which all other get-togethers can only point.”

God made us to belong to a group of believers with whom we can be candid in the joys and sorrows, in the crushing stress and sheer boredom of life. Locating these communities may be difficult. Connecting with them may be awkward. And meeting with them may be inconvenient. Nonetheless, genuine Christian community is the reality to which all other get-togethers can only point.

Reshape

Many of us struggle to keep our expectations in check when we are inundated with the message that the holidays should be the greatest season of joy and satisfaction. No reality, on this side of glory, can measure up to such a fairy tale. While the season may bring some special joys, for the most part, our lives and the people in them will continue to be what they were before the holidays. Contentious relationships will likely continue to be so, and lives that cannot be satisfied by the things of this earth will return to their normal level of discontentment.

But we are not consigned to frustration, hurt, or even boredom. Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians,

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. (Philippians 4:11–12)

How does Paul accomplish such personal resilience? By nurturing his relationship with Jesus Christ and setting his expectations on a life that reflects the character of Christ, even in hunger and need (Philippians 4:13). The key to not getting crushed in a disappointing holiday season is to reshape our hearts to find ultimate satisfaction not in the trifles of this world, fickle and frail as they are, but in the glories of the next. For there, and there alone, will our expectations not only be met, but abundantly exceeded.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15857604/the-explosive-power-of-translating-church