By John Kelly
Tuesday, April 4, 2006
Scour the Old and New Testaments day and night searching for goat-kissing references and you will be disappointed. There is nothing along the lines of, "Blessed are the goat-kissers, for they shall be called the children of God."
And although the Bible is chock-full of helpful advice in many areas -- exactly how many cubits wide to make your ark, exactly whose wife not to covet -- it is silent on the critical issue of goat-kissing.
That has not stopped John Weber , pastor of Solid Rock Assembly of God church in Point of Rocks, from wading into these uncharted waters.
"Why am I willing to kiss a goat?" Pastor John asked the 30 or so worshipers in his tiny white clapboard church in Frederick County on Sunday. "Not everyone is willing to kiss a goat."
This seemed a safe statement. Not everyone is willing to kiss a goat, but Pastor John, 43, was. At the beginning of March, he challenged the children in Sunday school to raise money for the church's "Boys and Girls Missionary Crusade." He suggested that they raise the money by tithing some of their allowance and rooting around in the laundry for loose change.
If they could collectively fill their yellow plastic crusade cups with $500 by the month-long campaign's end, he would do something outrageous. His 10-year-old daughter, Naomi , suggested that he kiss a goat.
The children raised $1,270.
"For me to kiss a goat is a fun way to tell the children that sacrifice is something good," continued Pastor John, who wore a dark suit and a reddish brown beard. He left unsaid whether he meant the sacrifice of donating money or the sacrifice of kissing a farm animal in front of your church one Sunday afternoon.
Pastor John has ministered at several churches, and he is accustomed to fundraising stunts. He has dyed his hair pink. He has shaved his head bald. Last year, he said he would swallow a live goldfish if the kids reached their goal. This didn't sit well with one adult member of the congregation. An animal lover and a nurse, she imagined the goldfish slowly and painfully succumbing to the minister's stomach acid.
The goal was not met.
Pastor John's sermon Sunday was about the power of prayer. Downstairs, the children had Sunday school. Outside the church, in a box in the back of Ken Lebo 's Chevy Silverado pickup, were two goats.
The service ended with communion, after which people began drifting outside. Ken went to his truck with two other men to fetch the goats. Ken's wife, Nancy , had borrowed them from Bob and Julie Bolton , goat-ranching neighbors from Rocky Ridge.
"They have hundreds of them," said Ken, who was dressed in a practical goat-wrangling outfit: crisp blue denim overalls and black cowboy boots.
"You didn't dehorn them, did you?" asked one of the men after seeing the six-inch-long horns sprouting from one of the goats.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't want to do that," Ken said.
They lifted the mother goat, Natasha , out of the box and put her on the ground. Next came her baby, who bleated a few times, then started nursing with a single-minded determination.
"They said Natasha was a very friendly mom," Ken said. "And we don't have to worry about the baby, because she'll stay close to the mom."
Natasha was led by the rope around her neck to the front of the church, where a throng of children awaited. Pastor John waited there, too, looking like a man who, notwithstanding all the good works that could be done with it, was surprised that $1,270 had actually been raised.
He was sucking on a breath mint, though he admitted this probably would be lost on Natasha.
There followed a brief discussion of the safest way to kiss a goat. Some people recommended that Pastor John firmly hold Natasha's horns. One man suggested that Pastor John kiss the baby goat instead, that he bend over at the waist in front of the mother and pucker up.
This was a joke.
Finally, while Ken Lebo held the rope, Pastor John leaned in and delivered a modified Eskimo kiss. He kissed Natasha's nose, then, encouraged by the crowd, kissed it again.
Well, the minister was asked, what is it like to kiss a goat?
"Fuzzy," he said. "Maybe that's what my wife thinks when I kiss her."
As Natasha fertilized the grass in front of the church, there was some discussion of whether the goat had been well and truly kissed. Some people thought a peck on the nose didn't count.
"Next year, when he kisses a pig, we'll make sure he kisses it on the mouth," Jon Webster said.
Pastor John popped another breath mint.
My e-mail:kellyj@washpost.com
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