I’m a sneakerhead. By definition, that means I love sneakers and I have for a long time. I’m not sure when it started; call it a hobby at best and an obsession at worst. As a high-schooler, I wanted to design sneakers as a career. I never did well in chemistry, but I would make my own cleaning solution to protect my shoes from the elements of nature and the looming prospect of someone carelessly stepping on my shoes and smudging them. Even to this day, most of my sneakers reside in their respective shoe boxes in my closet and make very few appearances in public. There’s all kinds of methods to my sneakerhead madness. I check the weather before I wear them. If there’s grass at an event, I only wear sneakers with black soles.
I stay ready with extra shoes, ya’ll.
In addition to being a sneakerhead, I’m a pastor. Sometimes my shoes show my need for sanctification. Prior to serving at the church I’m at currently, I served on staff at a church where I would change out of my sneakers to setup and breakdown before and after services. In order to set up the church’s outdoor sign, I had to cross a lush, green, and dog-walked, freshly-cut lawn, and as you could guess, my beloved sneakers never entered this territory. Go ahead, laugh, but I love my sneakers.
Recently, my love for sneakers and my being a pastor has intersected in a way that’s honestly caused me some pause and maybe some discomfort. An anonymous Instagram account called @preachersnskeakers has made headlines as it displays pictures of well-known preachers wearing expensive sneakers and a snapshot of the value of the sneakers beside them. Now, I don’t own very many pairs of sneakers, but in almost every picture on this account, there were sneakers on the feet of pastors that, if I had the money, I would definitely have in my closet or on my own feet.
Again, I’ve loved sneakers for a long time but culturally, sneakers have become something of a fashion trend (meaning sneakers aren’t just confined to a fashion item of particular cultures) and if you aren’t familiar with the culture of sneakers, you might just think these pastors were wearing some colorful shoes that didn’t really cost that much. Not exactly. Some of these shoes cost hundreds to thousands of dollars and while, to the uninformed viewer, these shoes may look no different than the sneakers on clearance at Payless; to sneakerheads, the appearance of certain shoes screams “I’ve got it like that”. While the account doesn’t explicitly state it, the images of these pastors, their sneakers, and the value of their sneakers ultimately leads to the same conclusion people make about prosperity preachers, which is that pastors get rich and possess nice things at the expense of their congregations and followers. Concerning their value, sneakers are nothing close to the cost of million dollar homes or luxury jets, but the seemingly insignificant presence of the former might lead to the assumption of the latter and together, both could lead to the questioning of a pastor’s motives. Did this pastor buy these sneakers with money from his congregation; money that could and even should be going to more useful and needed places?
…his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace…” (Rev 1:15) I’m just sayin’
The questions that I’ve had to face within myself are “What does it mean when I preach in my gold foamposites?” “If I preach in Air Jordan XIV’s will someone break out their phone application and look up the value of my sneakers?” In a more extreme sense, does this mean that I can’t love and enjoy sneakers or that my next pair of shoes needs to be below a certain amount of money? I admit, my love for sneakers has at times caused me to make financial decisions that weren’t the most beneficial for my bank account. In certain times, sneakers have been an idol in my life. My love for sneakers has exposed covetousness in my eyes, jealousy in my heart, and pride in my possessions. As someone who grew up resenting the prosperity gospel, the last thing I want to do is become associated with it through my shoe choices.
There are at least two ways I’ve approached this conversation in my head and my heart about sneakers.
Sneakers are a good gift from God.
I don’t personally know any of the preachers who’ve been seen wearing the coolest and most expensive sneakers. I don’t know their hearts or their motives, but I do know mine. Even though I’m loving the rise of sneakers to the feet of society’s fashion, in my own heart and life, I’d wear my sneakers if I were the only one on the planet. I enjoy looking at their design and the inspirations behind them. I enjoy reading the interviews of their designers and the initial reactions of the athletes who wear them. I enjoy the release dates. I enjoy purchasing a unique pair of sneakers that I know I probably won’t see anyone else wearing. I like rocking them. I enjoy hearing my wife, who couldn’t care less about sneakers say “Ooh, those are nice.” If I had the choice between the latest iPhone, luxury vehicle, or the Nike Fear of God 1’s, I’m choosing the Nike’s every time. God has given us all things to enjoy, and I believe sneakers are one of those good things.
“Sneakers aren’t evidence of God’s blessing, but, like many other material things, they can be an evidence of a heart that’s in love with the world and it’s desires.
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Sneakers don’t make you more relevant or effective in preaching the gospel.
When I preach, the last thing I want to do is draw someone’s attention towards the Jumpman on my feet over Jesus in the gospel. If my wearing sneakers causes someone to stumble in this way, I’m good with never wearing sneakers in a pulpit again. On the contrary, Adidas NMD’s don’t make me any more relevant, culturally appealing, or effective in preaching the gospel. It’s God who saves souls, and not our soles that save. As a preacher of the gospel, my feet are beautiful long before I slip them in some Air Max’s and the swoosh doesn’t add anything to the message (Rom 10:15). Sneakers, although they may provide a culture pass, don’t add people to God’s church, and they don’t make Jesus look better. Wearing them assuming either is wrong.
“God has given us all things to enjoy, and I believe sneakers are one of those good things. ”
Loving sneakers *and anything else* can mean loving the world.
Prosperity teachers often make appeals to their followers to give their money to their ministries in the name of “spreading the gospel” to purchase extravagant things such as cars and jets, million dollar homes, or luxurious items. Their justification is essentially that their possessing these things will serve as a witness of God’s blessing and consequently, poverty and lacking material things is not an effective witness to who God is. Furthermore, there are pastors who will deflect from their having luxurious items by stating how much their ministries give to charities or to the poor as a way of minimizing the cost of their own material possessions. Sneakers aren’t evidence of God’s blessing, but, like many other material things, they can be an evidence of a heart that’s in love with the world and it’s desires. Pastors or anyone can wear sneakers, at whatever cost, but being a pastor doesn’t justify having expensive sneakers or entitle one to them.
They’re Just Sneakers, Aren’t They?
In a day when, in our context ,many people of all economic backgrounds own phones and devices that cost hundreds and thousands of dollars, owning sneakers is the largely the same. Many of the kinds of shoes seen on the @preachersnsneakers account can be spotted on kids in grade schools, college campuses, sporting events, and shopping malls at various prices. (Some are indeed extravagant by any measure). To imply that a preacher wearing certain sneakers is abusing the resources of their congregation by doing so isn’t always the case. On the other hand, preachers who are spending hundreds and thousands of dollars on themselves for the purposes of appearing wealthy, culturally relevant, and thereby be more effective in reaching people are misguided in the message they profess to proclaim.
** In case you don’t draw this conclusion, I totally LOVE the @preachersnsneakers account. I followed them as soon as I found out about it and then had at least 10 friends ask me if I’d seen it. Trolling or not, it’s definitely an awesome idea for an IG, and it would be an honor if you snapped me in my blue XIII’s and posted it. Next, I’m a discount sneaker preacher. I don’t own some 200 pairs of sneakers or anything, its more like 5, and most of them came from hard-fought bidding wars on ebay**