I recently read a piece that cleverly began: “I tuck my shirt in these days so I don’t look like a pastor. When I go to church sometimes I wear a suit just to see the upsetting effect and observe the people who look at you with gleeful pity and judgment because you are obviously not spiritually hip.”

As you might expect, the author proceeds to bemoan the “untucked” pastor that now graces so many pulpits across our land. I must say that I read this piece with keen interest, because I recently joined those “untucked” ranks. I didn’t do so trying to fit any particular image. I wasn’t following anyone’s lead, I was simply trying to (finally) be myself in ministry.

Approximately 8 years ago, my wife and I moved from Arizona to Louisville, KY to pursue my M.Div. at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Though I had not been raised Southern Baptist, nor did I have any denominational ties or sentiments, I was strongly attracted to the school’s theology and pastoral emphasis. I had a phenomenal seminary experience. I have since met several men who had rough seminary experiences that this just seems foreign to me. But as great as that experience was, I very quickly experienced the culture shock of moving from the casual West to “southern” culture (yes, I know it’s highly debatable whether or not KY is actually “southern” or not, but please just bear with me and cut me a little slack, because it sure seemed that way in my context!). I suddenly found myself in the midst of denominational culture (and expectations of what a minister “ought to be, do and look like”) that I had not previously experienced.

Though I went to seminary with the intent of finishing my M.Div. and pursuing a Ph.D., about half-way through my three years at Southern Seminary, God clearly and undeniably broke my heart for the church. I took an Associate/Youth Pastor position in rural KY and the culture shock simply intensified. But as the culture shock increased, my sense of self-awareness began to decrease. I continually felt pressure to “fit the mold” of what pastors should look like. So I wore a tie to church because that’s what staff was expected to do, regardless of the fact that no one in the congregation reciprocated.

After almost two years of finishing my degree and ministering in rural KY, I was called to serve as a Teaching Pastor in small town TX and my sense of cultural disequilibrium only continued. I found myself continually being measured against other people’s shadows and expectations. Please don’t misunderstand me, I am in no way complaining about my time either in KY or TX, I’m simply recounting one aspect of my journey to “untucked-ness” and preaching in jeans.

Though, for some reason, it didn’t completely resonate with me at the time, when my wife and I became convinced that God was calling us to return to AZ and plant Church of the Cross, I remembered a time when John Piper came to preach at Southern Seminary while I was there. Of course, he was preaching to a room mostly full of aspiring preachers, and he knew this and seized the opportunity to plant a pearl of wisdom that has flowered in my life since then. He drew attention to the fact that many men find try to find their way (particularly in) preaching (though it applies to so much else) by imitating their favorite preachers. But, of course, we’re not as good as our favorite preachers, so it doesn’t work. Our favorite preachers are our favorites because they have seized God’s particular gifts to them. Then Piper made a challenge that has changed my perspective on a lot of things. He said that we must learn to be a sanctified version of ourselves rather than a watered-down version of someone else.

It has taken me almost seven years in ministry to finally be comfortable with the fact that I don’t necessarily fit the mold of what many people think a pastor should be like. I almost always wear argyle socks, even with shorts. I like what many people consider to be weird music. I ask questions and actually want answers when I preach. And I’m most comfortable untucked (not to mention that I live in a very casual city, so if I truly desire to me missional, I’m not going to alienate people by preaching in a suit and tie. And, yes, it would alienate people). Yes, this last piece has now become a stereotype, but I’m OK with that because I can honestly say that I don’t do it to be like anyone else. I do it to be like myself.

God might be calling you to preach in a suit and tie. Your context might demand a suit and tie. God might be calling you to preach in jeans. Your context might demand preaching in jeans. The point that we generalize our preferences onto others is the root of much of the problem here. Yes, some pastors might choose their dress for the wrong reasons, but let’s at least give the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise, shall we (1 Corinthians 13:7)?

I too am bothered by so many pastors following so many trends. Surely many now dress the way they do because they think that’s what they’re supposed to do. But that’s the point I’d like to see discussed a bit more openly. Rather than mock, let’s acknowledge that pastors face pressure to conform to standards possibly more than any other vocation. We are held to the standard of what you remember your childhood church experience to be like (good or bad), we are compared to whoever filled the pulpit before us, we are judged by your cultural baggage and we’re continually told that we need to be more “relevant” (whatever that actually means).

All the while, it is nearly impossible for pastors to even strive to be “all things to all people” (1 Corinthians 9:19-23) without first being able to be comfortable with who God has made them. This doesn’t mean embracing sin, saying “well, that’s just the way God made me,” but it does mean being confident that God has made us each unique individuals with particular and sometimes peculiar twists and quirks. We need to encourage pastors to be “sanctified versions of themselves” rather than “watered-down” versions of who we want them to be. Only then can they minister with the Gospel-confidence that we see in our favorite preachers.