Preachers, Clothes, and Shoes

What are the guiding principles for pulpit attire?

Why is it that many pastors, in terms of clothing, want to adorn, in the pulpit, the latest pop culture fashion trends? I’m sure it’s a fear of some kind of clericalism, a holdover from Rome that evangelicals are (rightfully) loathe to embrace, or a noble effort to communicate to the people that “we’re sinners saved by grace just like you” (but maybe just a little cooler).

I’ll address the concern over clericalism in a moment, but first I want to consider the danger of dressing to embrace the latest fashion trend. What, after all, could go wrong with wanting to be seen as trendy or hip or cool or just aware of the latest fashions?

The danger is in you becoming what’s remembered about the sermon. The preacher’s embrace of the latest fashion trends risks people saying, “Look at our pastor, he’s so cool. He’s up on the latest trends. Do you see those Jordan 1’s?!” Translation: Our pastor isn’t a boring, out-of-touch religious leader, but someone we’d love to hang out with at the local pub. Or, better: Look at our pastor, he’s not a fundamentalist (“fundamentalist” being perhaps the worst thing you could call an evangelical pastor today). The conversation after church over lunch isn’t so much about the content of the sermon (if there was any), but on the attributes of the preacher—specifically his attire. Perhpas Rusty from Oceans 11 (for those old enough to remember) can help us here. While it’s an imperfect analogy, Brad Pitt’s character has something to teach preachers today:

Ah, there it is: “like you and then forget you.” Wisdom according to Rusty. Preachers should consider attire that allows you to be forgotten as the adornment of the Word takes the spotlight. The preacher resonates deeply with the apostle’s words in 2 Corinthians 4:5, “For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake” (italics added).

Now let’s consider the objection of clericalism. Should a preacher wear attire that sets him apart as a gospel minister, that says in effect, “I’m not just like you?” Should a pastor, in what he wears in the pulpit, risk associations with an unhelpful medieval clericalism? To address this it may be helpful to hear from perhaps the greatest preacher of the twentieth century Martyn Lloyd-Jones as he makes an “apology” for a preacher wearing a gown:

I believe it is good and right for a preacher to wear a gown in the pulpit. How do I reconcile that with what I have just been saying about spiritual authority? The gown to me is a sign of the call, a sign of the fact that a man has been ‘set apart’ to do this work. It is no more than that, but it is that.¹

Don’t get hung up on the gown. The principle is that a preacher should dress not only not to distract from the Word, but to show that he is a messenger of the Lord, “set apart” to do this work.

Of course, this happens all the time in the world around other professions—and we not only accept it, we expect it. For example, when I took my son to the pediatrician recently his doctor wore a white gown indicating that he was in fact a doctor. When I pulled up alongside a police officer the other day, she was wearing a uniform that set her apart from me. Consider further judges in courtrooms, customer services reps at your local bank, “geniuses” at the Apple Store, athletes on sports teams, and your local Planet Fitness employee helping make sure it’s a judgement free zone. All of these people wear uniforms setting them apart for the work they’re doing. Add to this Sports Center anchors and play-by-play announcers: all wearing clothing that says, in a profound sense, I’m not just like you as one set apart to speak authoritatively into your life about—wait for it—sports.

Does this approach risk a modern form of clericalism? Perhaps, but if what Alistair Begg and Derek Prime observe is correct, it’s worth the risk:

Changes in the life of the contemporary Church have produced a crisis of identity for many pastors and teachers. There has been a justifiable reaction against what has been commonly termed “the one-man ministry”—justifiable in that no one possesses all the gifts of ministry, and the traditional distinction between “clergy” and “laity” is neither biblical nor helpful. But—as so often happens—the pendulum can swing too far the other way, and the gifts of the Spirit and the priesthood of all believers may be interpreted to mean that all are equally equipped to minister, to the neglect of the proper place that should be given to the gifts of pastoral care and teaching.²

In our concern over a creeping clericalism, let us be careful to not undervalue the gift of God to churches in pastors and teachers (Ephesians 4:11).

So, the preacher has two goals when considering attire in the pulpit: 1) Do not distract unhelpfully from the Word being proclaimed and; 2) Demonstrate that you are set apart by God to deliver his message. (Of course, #1 assumes you don’t want the attention and #2 assumes you’re actually set apart for the work.)

This concludes my Saturday morning ministry musings.

1. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching & Preachers, 160 (1971 edition)

2. Alistair Begg and Derek Prime, On Being a Pastor: Understanding Our Calling and Work, 13–14.