Wednesday, May 29, 2013

why I shave my legs for Jesus


Early in my ministry, I started a Saturday evening ritual called “shaving my legs for Jesus”.  The name pretty much describes it accurately. Every Saturday night, I would draw a bath and go through the painstaking process of shaving my legs. I know that people all over the world do this on a daily basis, some even awkwardly balancing themselves as they stand in a shower stall to do so, and they do this without thinking much about it and never realizing its theological significance. But stick with me, there is some. 

Now here’s the obvious question: does Jesus care if my legs are stubbly? I don’t think so. I have never heard the still quiet voice of God whisper to me on Sunday morning, “your legs are smooth—good and faithful servant”.

That’s not why I do it.

I hate shaving. I started doing it because I felt that was part of looking my best for church on Sunday.  As if somehow smooth legs represents a clean heart, a prepared message or a holy demeanor.

But shaved legs represent a cultural preference, not a Biblical mandate. There is no “blessed is she with the smooth legs, for she shall glide smoothly in the waters of Life”. It’s not there. I looked.

So, that is not why I keep this tradition alive. I do it because I hate it.

Yes, I do it because it is no fun. It is time consuming. It can be painful if you don’t pay attention or if you don’t use the right cream. It can burn when you are finished if you put the wrong things on too soon.

Sometimes ministry, whether it is ordained or lay, calls us to do things that we do not like: to go where we are sent, to stay when we want to leave, to talk to people unlike us, to show grace when we are angry, to be peaceful in situations of unrest. So every week, I do this thing that I don’t like because it reminds me that God calls each of us, including me, to do things that we don’t want to do. Obedience is often not convenient. It’s often not comfortable. So, every week, at least once, I remind myself that it is not about me. That’s it about a God who made himself more than uncomfortable for me.