What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?
There is something I need to say… If clothes could talk, my purple suit would probably demand a honorarium by now. It has seen things. A wedding. Dinner. Church services. Late-night meetings. Serious conversations in parking lots after fellowship. Preaching sessions where the microphone refused to cooperate. Random roadside tea stops. And today, it attended my graduation.
Not my high school graduation. Not university. This was pastoral training. Theology School. The first and not the last one I’ll be attending. The kind where you sit under men who love God deeply, have served Him for ages longer than your age, and you realize that no matter how long you have preached, taught, or served, there is still more to learn.
So there I was this morning, standing in front of the mirror, holding one of my old formal suit I own that still looks respectable enough to appear in public without attracting prayer requests.
The purple suit. Technically, it is a three-piece setup. Black trousers. Black waistcoat. Black bow tie – butterfly style they said. Then the purple tuxedo coat that carries all the drama and confidence of a man who definitely believes he deserves soft background music whenever he enters a room. I bought it years ago for one of the weddings where I was the best man. This was not just any wedding, though. It was for people we deeply love, the kind of friends who become family somewhere along the journey of life. I love this particular color because purple has that royal feel to it. Kingly. Elegant. Loud without shouting. The kind of color that says, “I arrived,” it’s interesting that for a man who lived, loved blue transitioned to purple… Kinda symbolic in this season of my life.
Three years later, the suit still fits beautifully. Which is both a testimony of good tailoring, fitness – kinda… and the mercy of God. So naturally, I wore it today. Complete with a crown as a lapel. Graduation happened. Photos were taken. Hands were shaken. Smiles exchanged. The usual ceremonies. But ministry rarely allows you to stay polished for too long before sending you back into the field.
Immediately after the graduation, we headed out for outreach. Today it was led by the Daughters of Faith, and honestly, they did a spectacular job. The testimonies & preaching was bold. The worship was alive. The atmosphere carried that beautiful tension that happens when heaven begins pulling at human hearts. People stopped to listen, some sat on the grass to hear the word. Some stood from a distance pretending not to pay attention while hearing every word anyway. Not that I was proud or anything, but I could tell people were looking at me and saying “that’s definitely the pastor”. That suit is a screamer!!!
And then came the altar call. Six men gave their lives to Christ. Six. Wanted to throw a jab at the women shouldn’t preach gang but I realise this is not the place nor the hour. It has not yet come 😂. Anyway… 6 men. God called and six of them answered the call. Not statistics. Not numbers for a report. Men. Souls. Stories. Futures. Eternities changing in real time under an open sky right outside the church on Roysambu Gardens.
Moments like those remind you that the Gospel is still powerful. In a world drowning in noise, political chaos, economic unrest, missing people and children, confusion, trends, and temporary pleasures, Jesus Christ is still saving people. Still calling men out of darkness into his marvellous light. Still restoring broken lives one heart at a time.
Then, as if heaven wanted to sign the outreach attendance register personally, a light shower began to fall. Not heavy rain. Just enough to make you start calculating how expensive dry cleaning has become. So there I was, graduate by title, preacher by calling, slightly wet by circumstance, walking back and forth clearing pending errands between the church office and the car in my faithful purple suit that had now survived yet another memorable assignment.
And somewhere in the middle of all that movement, I began thinking about the prompt WordPress had asked, by which this article was inspired and spun: “What’s the oldest thing you’re wearing today?”
At first, the answer seemed obvious. The suit. But as the day stretched on, another answer quietly rose inside my heart. The oldest thing I am wearing today is definitely salvation. Not religion. Not church culture. Not ministry titles. Salvation. The suit is just but a child.
I gave my life to Jesus Christ in March 2015. And if I am being honest, everything meaningful in my life traces itself back to that moment. The man writing this article would not exist without Christ. The pastor Chris you know today would not exist. The graduate of this particular course study would not exist. I wouldn’t be part of this outreach I was joyfully welcoming people to Christ at. Even the suit probably would not have existed because definitely I wouldn’t have best-coupled that union.
Salvation changed everything. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 5:17 HCSB, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; old things have passed away, and look, new things have come.” This verse sounds beautiful when read slowly, but it becomes even more beautiful when lived. Because salvation is not cosmetic. Jesus does not simply iron out your behavior while leaving your soul wrinkled. He makes you new. He rebuilds a man from the inside out. He changes appetites. Changes desires. Changes direction. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes painfully. But genuinely. So sometimes it’s not the suit but what’s beneath that matters.
And perhaps that is the irony of this entire story. I started the day wearing an old suit, but the truth is, I have never been newer. The coat may be three years old, but the man inside it was reborn by Christ & is in a constant process of daily rebirth. That is the strange beauty of the Gospel. You can carry old scars, old memories, old clothes – well at some point they get thrown out, old stories, and still walk in a completely new life because Jesus Christ makes all things new.
So yes, today’s oldest item was probably the purple tuxedo coat that survived graduation, outreach, multiple hugs to new believers, rain, and multiple trips between the church office and the parking lot. But deeper than fabric and fashion, the oldest thing I wore today was the helmet of salvation. The decision made years ago to surrender my life to Jesus Christ. And unlike suits, shoes, or bow ties, this is one thing I pray I never outgrow.
And maybe that is where this article quietly turns toward you. Because Christ did not only die for pastors. He did not only die for people who graduate from theological schools or stand behind pulpits wearing royal-looking jackets. He died for sinners. For broken people. For tired people. For confused people. For proud people. For people who think they are too far gone and for people who secretly know they need saving.
Romans 10:9 HCSB says, “If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” Simple. Powerful. Eternal. And maybe, just maybe, the oldest thing you had/ need to wear today is not sitting in your wardrobe. Maybe it is salvation.
Another thought from a man still under construction
Grace & Peace ✌🏽