Creed, with lead singer Scott Stapp (center), will play Cruzan Amphitheatre on Wednesday.

More on Wednesday’s show, tickets

In the Bible, Samson’s strength was sapped when he was shorn of his famously long hair. For Scott Stapp, it worked in reverse.

“I wanted my wife to perceptually and visually see me as changing, that I was not what I used to be,” the Creed lead singer explains. “I went right into the bathroom and started shaving my head. She said, ‘What are you doing? It’s your trademark. It’s like your mojo.’

Stapp, with and then without his trademark locks.

How is Scott Stapp perceived? A polarizing, swaggering post-grunge MTV god? An out-of-control celebrity cautionary tale, personified by that widely circulated mug shot after his arrest for domestic battery? Or a grounded west Boca Raton dad of two (son Jagger and daughter Milan) and certified grown-up reclaiming his career, his family and his faith?

Stapp says he’s evolved into that grounded family man, after a lot of false starts. And he wants a new beginning for his band, too.

“Shedding that skin (hair) helped me get back to who I was. I had taken 10 steps backward and had to reconnect with myself and my faith. … And (the band) had to get back to who we were, from this surreal rock bubble we got into,” says Stapp, whose recently reunited group comes to Cruzan Amphitheatre on Wednesday to do soaring ’90s anthems such as “With Arms Wide Open”, “Higher” and “
“My Sacrifice”, as well as songs from Creed’s upcoming album, appropriately titled Full Circle.

As the name suggests, it marks not only a new beginning for the band, but for Stapp, whose musical fame had dissolved into a haze of public embarrassments — a 2005 scuffle in Baltimore with members of the band 311, and a 2007 domestic assault charge after a dispute with his wife, former Miss New York Jaclyn Nesheiwat, at their west Boca home. (The charge was later dropped.)

After working on getting rid of That Guy, “it was easy for four old buddies to call each other and kiss and make up,” he says of the Creed reunion.

Stapp formed Creed in 1994 with guitarist Mark Tremonti, bassist Brian Marshall and drummer Scott Phillips, and, put together “the first 11 songs we ever wrote” into an independent demo called My Own Prison. It was picked up by Wind-Up Records and re-released, spawning several singles, including the title track. The next album, 1999’s Human Clay, featuring “Higher” and “With Arms Wide Open”, about the birth of son Jagger, was even bigger, and was followed by 2001’s Weathered, featuring “My Sacrifice”.

The Creed formula — thundering bursts of guitar accented with soaring anthemic choruses, spiritually meaningful lyrics and Stapp’s booming tenor — gained the four friends a passionate fan following and an equally passionate hatred from a lot of critics.

They were put off by what they perceived as blatant sentimentality and a lot of rock star posturing on Stapp’s part. The band’s videos featured him out front, the camera panning over his shirtless torso and shiny locks, his arms wide open in what some interpreted as a Christ-like stance. It was all unashamedly over-the-top, which the fans ate up and the critics hated even more.

Then, as now, Stapp doesn’t apologize for “writing music we believe in. We work hard at being good songwriters, getting better at our craft. We feel we did that with every record we ever did, from My Own Prison on,” he says. “What a blessing to have been so naive and fresh.”

Stapp’s ambition can be traced back to his Central Florida upbringing, “growing up between two rural areas, Apopka and Sanford. Where the Sanford Mall is now was a cow pasture where I used to shovel manure,” he says. “I think the experience of being out in the woods, being involved with the rural side of nature, was significant, because on the other side was a growing city with a lot to offer.”

Stapp joined a traveling a cappella group in the fourth grade, and got his first solo singing Yankee Doodle Dandy in fifth grade. He went to high school at Lakeland Highland Preparatory School, where he met guitarist and future bandmate Tramonti, although Creed wouldn’t be formed until years later, after Stapp returned to Florida from Western Kentucky University.

The singer says the band’s success might be attributed to its “organic” foundations, formed by themselves rather than by committee, and plucked from the local scene to big-time fame. “You don’t hear of that anymore,” he says. “What you hear is corporate rock, where you find a guy who can sing and play guitar. We were four friends first.”

Of course, most episodes of Behind the Music begin with exactly that kind of organic earnestness, but continue with the sorts of shenanigans that inform the Creed story. “There were things … divisive forces that can come in, whether they be other individuals or poor decision-making,” Stapp says.

Those forces wound up dividing Creed — original bassist Marshall had left in 2000, and the band split up in 2004. Marshall joined Tremonti, Phillips and singer Myles Kennedy for a Stapp-less project called Alter Bridge, while Stapp himself released a solo album called, fittingly, The Great Divide.

Meanwhile, That Guy was rearing his shiny, shaggy head.

“I was bummed out there for a period of time, and I became something that was … a human being that was chemically altered,” Stapp says, matter-of-factly. “When you get involved with abusing alcohol and everything else, it does change who you are. I make no excuse. I made the decision to do some things and paid the consequences. I’m glad that’s behind me.”

Stapp’s 2007 mug shot, after his domestic battery arrest, is one of the last photos of him with his formerly signature long hair. His physical shedding of that persona, he says, cemented not only a new beginning with his wife and his faith, but, eventually, for Creed.

“After we took some time off, that put a lot of things in perspective,” he says. “It was an aberration, a small chapter in a 30-chapter book. In all the other chapters it was us, living the dream. At this point, having grown in our faith and families, we have a fresh perspective and awareness. We’re confident in our brand of rock and roll, and hopefully this gives us the opportunity to get a second chance with the critics. Hopefully they’ll listen with new ears. Hopefully they’ll be converted. Most people don’t get a chance to get back into that game, and we’re not going to let it slip through our hands again.”

Creed’s tour brings Stapp back home to Palm Beach County, at least for one night.

“We’ll have to get right back on the road, but I’ll probably sleep at my house that night. I miss my bed,” he says. “I’ll get to hang out with the kids. We’re really looking forward to being there in our neck of the woods.”

Hanging out with kids has become one of Stapp’s favorite pastimes, as the coach of son Jagger’s basketball team. He’s just another dad there, although it’s not always easy to blend.

“I think it didn’t help that we sponsored the team and (the jerseys) said ‘The Stapp Family’ on the front in big bold letters, so if people didn’t know (who I was) by looking at me, they knew then … But that’s another cool thing about this area, that people don’t make a big deal about seeing people they’ve seen on TV. We’re just regular citizens and people treat me like a regular guy. You can see me changing the baby’s diapers in the car and running after her, or yelling at my nephew to make a tackle.”

Stapp’s put his coaching on hold while on the road, but he’s having a great time with his other job — rock star.

“It’s hard not to be fired up in front of 15,000 people,” he says. “The response has been amazing, because the public has given us a fresh look. We’re not taking it for granted.”

And he’s enjoying his fresh look, too.

“Honestly, I love not having to worry about (the hair),” he says. “I like the aerodynamic deal of my head now.”