The First Baptist Church of Granada Hills

            Those careers that are part of what may broadly be construed as the “service sector” often involve some means of identification.  Policemen sport badges, salesclerks wear tee-shirts of a particular color, waiters don aprons, and nurses wear scrubs.  The idea is that such telltale signs allow the proverbial “man on the street” to identify these people and seek out their assistance—whether that takes the form of a refill of one’s soda or lawful intervention in some transpiring crime. 

            Traditionally clergymen have also worn some token of their profession.  In times past most ministers wore large robes, called cassocks, to identify themselves as representatives of the Church.  Today cassocks are still worn by some clergymen, but their use is rather limited to the most formal of settings and to the most formalistic of ministers.  In contrast, the clerical collar has enjoyed a significantly wider and longer lasting use among pastors.  By way of example, a clerical collar is still a fairly common symbol of the ministry in popular culture and can be seen sported by such divergent figures as the Rev. Timothy Lovejoy of the animated comedy The Simpsons, the mysterious Preacher from Clint Eastwood’s gritty Western Pale Rider, the Rev. Graham Hess from M. Night Shyamalan’s sci-fi thriller Signs, and the mild mannered Pastor Alden of the classic family drama Little House on the Prairie.

            Some may wonder though why pastors would want to distinguish themselves at all.  Why would one advertise his “spiritual credentials”, especially in light of the temptation to pride that such a practice can entail?  Jesus Himself even seems to have decried this very thing—special clothes and titles for ministers—as demonstrated by passages such as Matthew 23… or did He?  

            When one looks to Jesus’ words concerning the ministers of His own time, one finds His distinctive use of didactic hyperbole (cp. Matthew 5:29-30, 17:20; Luke 14:26).  This interpretation is necessary for otherwise the God-ordained uniform for the priests of the Old Testament (Exodus 28:1-2) and the willingness of New Testament authors to refer to themselves and others by the title “leader” (Hebrews 13:7) and even “father” (1 Corinthians 4:15) would be rather difficult to explain.  And if this is the case, then we can see that Jesus didn’t so much condemn the Pharisees’ externals as the discontinuity between their outward presentation and their inward disposition.  That is, Jesus’ objection to the Pharisees seems to be that while they were willing to “lengthen their tassels” and “broaden their phylacteries”—the rough equivalent of wearing a clerical collar in their day—they also “devour[ed] widows’ houses”, and while they placed mountains of religious obligations on their listeners backs, they were themselves “unwilling to move them with so much as a finger.” 

            Jesus’ critique of the Pharisees is aptly summed up Matthew 23:25 and 28: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside they are full of robbery and self-indulgence.” And, “you, too, outwardly appear righteous to men, but inwardly you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.”  Jesus’ main concern then was not with attire and titles at all, but with a lack of consistency.  A cup which shines forth in its cleanliness on the outside is not a bad thing, but it is certainly a deceptive and useless thing if its inside is covered with filth.

            But even so, are there any benefits to wearing a clerical collar?  Or, with an eye towards Paul’s words to the Corinthians, even though such a practice may be permissible, is it helpful? 

            From personal experience, the answer is an unequivocal “yes”.

            First, it’s traditional and fun.  The world is simply a more interesting place when people dress like what they are, whether they happen to be plumbers, chefs, dentists, or clergymen.

            Additionally, a collar advertises to everyone (including the minister himself) what he is and, more importantly, for Whom he stands.  A good example of this occurred at a ministerial prayer meeting in which I participated a while back: 25 pastors from a variety of evangelical denominations were praying for our city and our churches and I was by far the youngest person present (I’m in my twenties and most of the other pastors had either grey hair or bald heads).  And yet, when a woman wandered in off the street looking for prayer, she panned across the room, saw me, and remarked, “Oh, a collar, you must be someone important.”  In a room full of much more distinguished, much more experienced men, she approached me because I was the only one “flying the flag”.

            This kind of recognition is particularly helpful during hospital visits and the like.  In my own ministry I have found that a collar allows me access to patients that are “off-limits” even to their own families. 

            The collar is also something of a conversation starter which lends itself very nicely to evangelism.  On one occasion I stopped in at a grocery store on my way home from a meeting and while I was standing in line, silently holding a twelve-pack of Coke, the cashier leaned over to the bagger and whispered, “I need to go back to church.” 

            Of course, Christ’s words still stand.  A good show on the outside means nothing unless it is accompanied by faithfulness, virtue, and humility on the inside; this is something no Christian, ordained or lay, ought to forget.  But as a minister I would encourage my fellow pastors to consider wearing a clerical collar in certain, appropriate situations.  Who knows, your congregation may enjoy it and I’m sure that Lifeway (which sells clericals) would appreciate the business.