But in any event, even with what appears above, I don’t quite understand the connection you have drawn between Sunday observance and relatively weak faith. Perhaps an illustration would help: I celebrate my daughter’s birthday (not her date of conception) but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t believe she existed in some form for several months in her mother’s womb prior to her birth. Likewise, while Christians celebrate Jesus’ triumph over the grave every Sunday, that doesn’t necessarily imply that everything that came before that moment is ignored; we do celebrate Christmas too.

Eugene, it sounds to me like you have a well-thought-out reason for this, that you’re in no way trying to deceive anybody, and that your heart is in the right place. I commend you and, did I not live on the other side of the country and were I not a pastor myself, I’d certainly come check you guys out, collar or not!

God-speed!

The best way to prevent this shipwreck of conscience among new and sensitive Christians with regard to Halloween is not, I think, to pretend that the last 1000 years of Christianization of October 31st hasn’t happened. (There are limits to the extent which “weak consciences” ought to be indulged, as Paul’s refusal to accommodate the scruples of the men from James in Galatians 2:11-14 indicates.) Instead, those Christians who do celebrate the day would do well to avoid the “lunatic fringe” of the holiday—a morbid and dubious emphasis on death and the occult. A celebration of Halloween in which children go door-to-door for candy dressed as ballerinas and super-heroes is a much different and much more palatable things than a “celebration” in which adults dress as axe-murderers and witches and participate in a séance.

With that said, your relative’s concerns about a possible attempt to mislead others with a collar are well taken. Allow me to assure you that such is not my intention. It is precisely because of this possible misunderstanding that I have avoided wearing a specifically Roman collar and have further avoided the “black on black” look. When I lead the Good News Club at Tulsa Elementary I generally wear a blue, red, or grey short-sleeved shirt and, to make misidentification even more unlikely, my wife is present and I, of course, wear my wedding ring. Further, the name tag I wear at the school is labeled “Pastor Curry” and not “Father Curry” or even the more generic “Rev. Curry”. If lapsed or nominal Catholic families begin attending FBCGH as a side effect of the Good News Club I would be delighted, but I certainly don’t want to steal active members away from St. Euphrasia’s or St. John the Baptist de la Salle’s: I have no intention of trespassing on Fathers Wakefield and Milbauer’s “turf”.

The reference to Ephesians 6:11-17 is also spot-on. This is precisely the kind of “clothing” the Pharisees lacked—a deficiency for which Jesus condemned them. All ministers (and all Christians for that matter) ought to model the virtues mentioned in Ephesians 6. My only contention is that ministers ought to model these virtues and, in specific situations, make their profession apparent through some symbol, something which, as I wrote, the ministers of God were called to do in the Old Testament. Of course, as members of the New Covenant, the specific strictures of the Old Testament law no longer apply to us, but the spirit of that law, its underlying values, ought to continue to guide us who live by faith. And it seems that an identifiable clergy is one of those values.

As a former First Baptist member, I couldn’t see myself returning to a church where the collar and the “Reverend” door plaque were such a visible presence — and, yes, it does look prideful. The absence of these things and the humble way the two pastors overseeing the flock during our time there carried themselves was what drew my family and I in and why we stayed so long.

The “clothing” a pastor needs to convince himself he is ready to be in the world and live the example as God commands is in Eph. 6, is it not?