In this excerpt from his forthcoming book, The Year of Living Biblically, A.J. Jacobs, who was born Jewish, but raised in an agnostic household, begins his quest to understand the relevance of faith in the modern world. Following the most arcane laws he can find in a waist-high stack of Bibles - stoning adulterers, avoiding clothes made with mixed fibres, playing a 10-string harp - Jacobs' year-long journey into biblical literalism reveals some surprisingly relevant wisdom within the most ancient texts.
As I write this, I have a beard that makes me resemble Moses. Or Abe Lincoln. Or Ted Kaczynski. I've been called all three.
It's not a well-manicured, socially acceptable beard. It's an untamed mass that creeps up toward my eyeballs and drapes below my neckline.
I've never allowed my facial hair to grow before, and it's been an odd and enlightening experience. I've been inducted into a secret fraternity of bearded guys — we nod at each other as we pass on the street, giving a knowing quarter smile. Strangers have come up to me and petted my beard, like it's a Labrador retriever puppy or a pregnant woman's stomach.
I've suffered for my beard. It's been caught in jacket zippers and been tugged on by my surprisingly strong two-year-old son. I've spent a lot of time answering questions at airport security.
But I mean no harm. The facial hair is simply the most noticeable physical manifestation of a spiritual journey I began a year ago.
My quest has been this: to live the ultimate biblical life. Or more precisely, to follow the Bible as literally as possible.
To obey the Ten Commandments. To be fruitful and multiply. To love my neighbour. To tithe my income. But also to abide by the oft-neglected rules: To avoid wearing clothes made of mixed fibres. To stone adulterers. And, naturally, to leave the edges of my beard unshaven (Leviticus 19:27). For the next year, I will try to obey the entire Bible, without picking and choosing.
Month One: September
Fear God and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man.
— Ecclesiastes 12:13
It's the first day, and I already feel like the water is three feet over my head.
I have chosen Sept. 1 to start my project, and from the moment I wake up, the Bible consumes my life. I can't do anything without fearing I'm breaking a biblical law. Before I so much as inhale or exhale, I have to run through a long mental checklist of the rules.
It begins when I open my closet to get dressed. The Bible forbids men to wear women's clothing (Deuteronomy 22:5), so that comfortable Dickinson College sweatshirt is off-limits. It was originally my wife's.
The Bible says to avoid wearing clothes made of mixed fibres (Leviticus 19:19), so I have to mothball my poly-cotton Esquire magazine T-shirt.
And loafers? Am I allowed to wear leather? I go to the living room, click on my PowerBook and open my Biblical Rules file. I scroll down to the ones about animals. Pigskin and snakeskin are questionable, but it looks like regular old cow leather is permissible.
But wait — am I even allowed to use the computer? The Bible, as you might have guessed, doesn't address the issue specifically, so I give it a tentative yes. Maybe some time down the road, I could try stone tablets.
And then I stumble. Within a half hour of waking, I check the Amazon.com sales ranking of my last book. How many sins does that comprise? Pride? Envy? Greed? I can't even count.
I don't do much better on my errand to Mail Boxes Etc. I want to Xerox a half dozen copies of the Ten Commandments so I can Scotch tape them up all over the apartment, figuring it'd be a good memory aid.
The Bible says those with good sense are "slow to anger" (Proverbs 19:11). So when I get there at the same time as this wiry 40ish woman, and she practically sprints to the counter to beat me in line, I try not to be annoyed.
