Camel Hair

Last August, Heather’s brother came out for a visit.  It was a quick stop on his way back to the states from India.  Being a single guy in his late twenties, he has this enviable drive and ability to see opportunities without the obstacles of children, limited time or limited energy. 

Shortly after arriving in Nairobi, he heard about a camel race in Maralal.  We read about it and in a fit of late-twenties bravado decided that kids, time and energy were no obstacles and headed off (about 8 hours North of here) to watch Andrew race in the Tri-camel-on, a run, bike, camel-riding race, kids and all.  Needless to say, it was an unforgettable adventure – one we’ll probably not be repeating.  But there are interesting spiritual lessons in just about everything. 

Toward the end of the trip, we were buying some mementos to remember the occasion.  I bought this ‘calabash’ or milk jug.  It’s a hollowed-out cylinder of wood that probably holds about a half liter.  The guy who sold it said it was used for carrying camel’s milk and was authentic (a typical hawker’s technique and a typically false statement) but this time I chose to believe him.  The reason? He only wanted 50 shillings (60 cents) It’s covered in rancid fat, and smells like sour milk and camel. It stinks to high heaven.  So why is it my favorite purchased trinket to date?

Camels are some of the most obnoxious beasts I’ve ever seen.  Their Kenyan handlers beat them with sticks to get them to do anything.  Probably because camels are incredibly stubborn and they smell so bad no self-respecting person would spend the time necessary to whisper in their ears and get them to be polite, well-mannered beasts of burden.

All of this has added a lot to my picture of John the Baptist.  A guy in the desert eating locusts and honey is one thing.  Wearing camel hair is quite another.  The stuff really smells bad.  It’s really itchy too.  I’m sure John didn’t have one of those fancy camel-hair sport coats.  I have no idea how they make camel hair look like that, either.  I’d think it impossible.

It’s always been interesting to me to think about John wandering the wilderness.  I always pictured this rough-looking character physically hardened by the wilderness but with a soft, teaching heart.  The kind of guy I’d get along with really well. The whole camel hair thing makes things a little different.  I’m pretty sure that by most reasonable people’s standards, he was a raving lunatic.  I think he even yelled at people.  Not, “Hey, guys… The Judgment is near, so maybe you ought to think about repenting. I can even baptize you, if you’d like…” but something more forceful – and probably not even polite.

The other day, I was reading John 3.  It begins with a perfectly reasonable, respectable man asking about the Kingdom of God.  Jesus explains and this man, Nicodemas, can’t comprehend.  Then Jesus goes out to baptize followers and sees John the Baptist there.  John speaks wisdom regarding the very things that so confused Nicodemas – the intelligent, wise, perfectly respectable man.  The scary part?  I’m more like Nicodemas.  I’d be more likely to listen to somebody like Nicodemas. Calm, confident, and well spoken. He knows all the rules and can explain complex theological issues quickly and clearly. But inside, he’s spiritually confused.  I’d most likely stay as far from the socially outcast, raving-lunatic truth-in-camel hair as I could.  Mostly on account of the smell.

It’s this culturally-governed religious construct I’ve been wrestling with lately.  The empty one that values regular baths over obedience.

"He must become greater; I must become less."  John 3:30