The Right Stuff
Cadillac billed itself as the “Standard of the World” in the 1950s. Its flagship, the 1957 Series 70 Eldorado Brougham, epitomized this excellence. Striking styling included fender vents, wraparound panoramic windshield, suicide rear doors, and a brushed stainless steel roof. Power from Cadillac’s 365 cubic-inch V8 was up to 325 horsepower. A state-of-the-art air suspension was introduced for the first time. Buyers got a matched set of silver tumblers, cologne, and lipstick.
Unfortunately, the lack of a B-pillar looked cool but made side-impact collisions gruesome. The wraparound windshield necessitated a 90-degree bend in the A-pillar, which jutted into the doorway and made entry and egress difficult. The air suspension proved devilishly unreliable, and most were replaced with conventional dampers. One of these 5,300-lb Caddys could be yours if you had $13,074 to spend – at a time when a new Ford started at about $2,000.
An expensive, heavy, unsafe, and unreliable vanity. This was the standard of the world? Cadillac, with its long history of industry firsts and patents, had previously introduced technology that trickled down into other, cheaper cars (shatter-resistant safety glass in 1927, turn signals in 1940) and were a blessing to people. But if the Brougham was the standard to which other automakers should aspire, thousands of car buyers would have wound up broke or dead.
We walk a fine line when we foist standards and minimum requirements on cars – or people. In Philippians, Paul warns of the standards some members of the early church were forcing new believers to meet. Many of those prerequisites would be impossible for a person to meet, like which tribe you were born into or on what day a male believer was circumcised. Everyone was expected to check all of those boxes in order to even begin following Jesus. Paul lists all those standards he met as part of his old Pharisaic life, then chucked them in the trash when he wrote:
“What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ – the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith.” (Philippians 3:8-9)
No loving God would use a checklist as the means for saving His people. No selfless, suffering servant would teach his disciples to make new believers suffer under a man-made standard. No faithful followers today can impose onerous prerequisites on fellow humans without “rejecting the capstone” – Jesus himself (Luke 20:17) – and his message of grace and inclusivity.
This leaves the rest of us driving entry-level Fords and wondering if, maybe, those Brougham drivers know something we don’t. They drive the same roads as us and arrive at point B just like us, but maybe their experience is richer, more rewarding, or more correct.
Just two examples of notable women in church history might help.
Lydia was a successful clothier (Acts 16:14-15) who knew the moral teachings of parts of the Old Testament, but, largely because she lived far from where Jesus lived, hadn’t yet heard about him and his death and resurrection. Members of the early church visited her, and she was baptized. Then, because of her influence, her whole household (or business) was baptized too. She generously opened her home to the traveling believers, helping their ministry.
Fanny Crosby was a blind girl in the 19th century who, because she couldn’t read, memorized the first four books of the Bible by age 10. She used this scriptural knowledge to write thousands of poems and Gospel songs throughout her life.
In God’s eyes, Lydia’s geographical disadvantage isn’t a detriment, and her wealth isn’t “to her profit” (as Paul would say). Fanny’s memorization (“gain”) doesn’t offset her physical disability (“loss”). God doesn’t put these things on a ledger.
He doesn’t expect us to be wealthy so we can convert more people. He doesn’t expect us to memorize four books of the Bible, or drive the finest Cadillac. Those aren’t his standards. Those are just the gifts he gives to some of us for our joy, and for his glory to be seen by everyone in the way that he knows is best.
If you find yourself in a 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham, you are indeed driving the standard of the world… according to Cadillac’s marketing department. It truly is a fine car, and God will use your ownership of it to glorify him. But we should be grateful that not all cars are expected to be 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Broughams. Some are entry-level Fords, and that’s okay.
