Christians like their pastors humble. And, by humble, I mean driving a domestically made mid-size sedan with high mileage.
I’m not saying I want my pastor to be poor, just that my assumption is that to be a man of the cloth means the seats in your car shouldn’t be made of leather. I’m fine if you have a luxury car, as long as it was a gift from a church member who happens to own a car dealership. Otherwise, I want to be honest. If I see you driving around in a tricked-out Mercedes-Benz, my first two thoughts are going to be:
1. I guess that pastor hates starving children in Africa.
2. I had no idea my tithe was going directly to the procurement of rims.
I want you in a hooptie, not a whip. I want you on a donkey, not a Denali. I want you to know the moral fortitude that comes with having to push a car off the side of the road at least twice a year when it breaks down.
Me? What am I driving? Whoa, let’s get back on topic. You’re the Varsity Christian, not me. If God chooses to bless me with a Rolls Royce, should I refuse that? Would Abraham or Solomon have scoffed at God’s gifts? Think of the great witnessing I can do simply by driving down the highway with spinning rims. Think of the lives that will be touched and transformed when I pull up to a red light and make an automotive declaration, a vehicular proclamation if you will, to the goodness and graciousness of God.
But pastors? You better keep it low key.
(This originally appeared in the Stuff Christians Like book. If you want to pick up a copy, click here!)
