The comments on the “what should you wear to church?” thread have been interesting, but from the beginning the question sent my mind spinning in a different direction than the practical discussion taking place over there. A lovely response from my friend Michelle Francl has brought those thoughts into a clearer focus, and the result is a theological reflection on the more practical question. I don’t think this answer is unconnected to the original post, but my thoughts have more to do with the meaning of church dress than with the pragmatics.
First, what have I worn to church? Many things. What does this variety tell me?
I have worn skirts and shorts and pants and dresses.I have worn backpacks and babies. Since I went to a Newman Center in Florida while I was in college, I have almost certainly worn sandals and flip flops. I have worn sleeveless and long-sleeved shirts, T-shirts and sweatshirts, dress shoes and running shoes. On retreats I have attended night prayer in pajamas, I think. If not, I certainly would, given the opportunity.
I have worn a sari and felt uncomfortably “costumed,” although it was what everyone else was wearing.
I have forgotten shoes and gone barefoot and felt gratefully awestruck, as every inch of unaccustomed bare skin on my soles told me incessantly for an hour, “the place on which you are standing is holy ground!” That Holy Communion is one of the most memorable of my life.
I have worn a white robe and a wedding gown, and I will one day wear a shroud.
This Sunday, I will go to my closet to get ready, and I will look at the clothes hanging there, and very likely the ones stacked on the dresser that haven’t yet been put away, and perhaps I will ask myself, “What is fitting, what is appropriate, what is worthy attire to go up unto the house of the Lord?”
Very likely, if I am feeling honest with myself, I will answer, “None of it is!” By aesthetics, by ethics, by finitude, by distraction, because of my self-satisfaction – none of it is worthy.
So what will I wear to church?
I will wear my baptismal garment, which is not my own but was entrusted to the Church by Jesus and worn by my brothers and sisters through the ages.
I will wear the eschatological garment, washed in the blood of the Lamb, which doesn’t seem to fit me all that well yet.
I will wear the white robe I was loaned for my confirmation and first communion, and I will wear the touch of all the unknown others who wore it before me and since.
I will wear my wedding dress on my finger, as long as I don’t manage to lose it between now and then.
I will ask for humility of bearing, because the grace I’m wearing is a free gift offered to countless others. I will put charity over my eyes so that I see and take in others’ joy and pain, not their mistakes. Shoed or shoeless, I will ask for the awe and joy of the holy place – and if I am not granted it today, I will ask at least not to begrudge the awe and joy of others.
Some day, this body that is mine will fail me, and on that day I will again wear my baptismal garment and the dirt out of which I was made. My wardrobe at that point may go to a thrift shop, where it will be picked over and dismissed by the fashionable, which I am not!
But these borrowed garments – these things that I can wear to church, because they are holy – these I can share. While I live I can pass them along, if God grants it, to my children and to strangers. When I die I can leave them behind, as Adam is said to have left behind the garment of glory in the garden (a Syriac tradition). In the Syriac mystagogical tradition, Jesus brings that forgotten robe of glory to the Jordan, running after Adam with his lost garment. When he is baptized, Jesus leaves that robe of glory in the Jordan for all humanity to recover. It’s not mine, but I can borrow it for a time, and then I too can leave it behind when my time is done.
It is not in aesthetics that the baptismal garment is most distinct from the mundane way we think about clothing, but in essence, purpose, and in its expression of our relationship to one another. The baptismal garment is shared, it is spiritual, and it is invisible. If I have it on, I will certainly have put thought into preparing for mass, and I will be well dressed.
#1 by Rachel Barber on August 3, 2012 - 4:27 pm
Reply Quote
Thank you for transporting the question and the conversation that ensued to a far better place.
Report Comment
#2 by Fran Rossi Szpylczyn on August 3, 2012 - 5:14 pm
Reply Quote
Thank you so very much for this post. You have, as Rachel indicates, completely transformed the conversation. And as someone who regrets their part in the other conversation, I am doubly humbled by this piece.
Report Comment
#3 by Linda Reid on August 3, 2012 - 6:20 pm
Reply Quote
This is beautiful, Kimberly, and a far better way to think about what we wear/bring to church!
Report Comment
#4 by Brendan Kelleher svd on August 3, 2012 - 9:11 pm
Reply Quote
Just simply THANK YOU
Report Comment
for your own reflections, and the link to your friend Michelle Francl.
Both were so refreshing compared to so much that appeared in the comments on the “What should you wear at Church? thread.
#5 by Paul Inwood on August 3, 2012 - 10:17 pm
Reply Quote
Kimberley, I echo these thanks. So good to have these thoughts instead of the other stuff, much of which was frankly sordid. I feel somewhat purified after my own rotten contributions in the other thread.
And a big bravo on your book from LitPress which was prominently displayed on their booth at NPM this past week.
Report Comment
#6 by Fr. Allan J. McDonald on August 4, 2012 - 4:23 am
Reply Quote
Following the new rubrics for the priestly veneration of the cross on Good Friday, our parochial vicar from Poland who was the main celebrant, removed his chasuble, shoes and socks and approached the cross first to venerate it barefooted. No explanation was given and none was needed.
Report Comment
#7 by Peter Rehwaldt on August 4, 2012 - 7:36 am
Reply Quote
It is not in aesthetics that the baptismal garment is most distinct from the mundane way we think about clothing, but in essence, purpose, and in its expression of our relationship to one another. The baptismal garment is shared, it is spiritual, and it is invisible. If I have it on, I will certainly have put thought into preparing for mass, and I will be well dressed.
The baptismal garment is also a hand-me-down, and a priceless one at that.
Report Comment
#8 by Todd Flowerday on August 4, 2012 - 8:40 am
Reply Quote
Brilliant.
Report Comment
#9 by Elizabeth Durack on August 4, 2012 - 4:04 pm
Reply Quote
Huh. Well, I think about what is really going on at Mass, we are at the Last Supper, at the foot of the Cross at His sacrifice, and witnesses to the Resurrection. And at some point I started to think about what should I wear to be there with Our Lord. So I took a leap to dress in a way that respects and shows reverence to Him, and the other people there. I dress modestly. Actually dressing modestly for daily Mass leads me to simply dress truly modestly and with dignity for whatever else I am doing that day, too. All of life is meant to become a radiance of the Mass. And modesty is protective of chastity, it is a basic part of a Christian lifestyle of chastity. I am a young woman. So, no shorts, no sleeveless, nothing tight, low cut, see through or ridiculous. You cannot go wrong with a decent shirt and skirt below the knee.
It is actually at my St Vincent de Paul volunteer job with the homeless that the impact on others of wearing a long modest skirt became more visible to me, I think they actually felt respected by that and my relationships with them are more than ever on a very good, positive and respectful or even in some way reverent level. There, too, I am in Our Lord’s presence. And I feel more comfortable either there or at Mass, dressed appropriately.
Report Comment
#10 by Jeffrey Pinyan on August 5, 2012 - 6:15 am
Reply Quote
This morning, I will “put on the new self”. Right now, and not just for Mass.
Report Comment
#11 by Fr. Allan J. McDonald on August 5, 2012 - 7:12 am
Reply Quote
I used this in my homily this morning as it regards Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians:
Paul’s letter to the Ephesians emphasizes that as Christians “we put on the new self”, that we must put on Christ, and we must give our lives over to justice and holiness. For example, when the celebrities attend Hollywood’s Academy Awards, reporters will always ask them, “What are you wearing? And the answer will be varied: Armani! Donna Karan! Versace! Vera Wang! Today Ephesians poses the same question to each of us: “Who are you wearing? Hopefully all of us can respond: “Jesus Christ!”
Report Comment
#12 by Diana Macalintal on August 5, 2012 - 5:58 pm
Reply Quote
Kimberly, brava and thank you. Reading this, on the Lord’s Day, has fed me and clothed me with grace.
Report Comment
#13 by Kimberly Hope Belcher on August 6, 2012 - 11:37 am
Reply Quote
Thanks to all who have responded.
I agree that the practical question is important, and I suspect that it is actually as difficult as the difficult conversation last week would suggest. Although I don’t normally default to “culture war” explanations, I do think that the ways that our culture treats clothing is theologically insidious for this discussion. We tend to pay attention to the way lust is used in marketing, which is significant, but we forget all the other things embedded in the way most of our clothing is produced and sold to us: vanity, pride, exploitation, complacency, competition, self-satisfaction in status or appearance, etc. All these attitudes are just as anti-liturgical as lust, but they seem to be invisible to us.
Report Comment
#14 by Paul Robertson on August 6, 2012 - 4:01 pm
Reply Quote
In my village, we have a Saturday evening Mass served from our parish church in Cambridge. This week, I attended Mass in my karate uniform. I exercised my duty as extraordinary minister of the Eucharist, too.
I should probably add that I arrived a good 15 minutes late.
To some, I am sure, this would be a triple disrespect for Yahweh Sabaoth and likely to get me burnt to a crisp either by fire from heaven or by the local temple police. I am, however, heartened by Kimberly’s article, and her comment #13.
People around me will never realise the significance of my clothing this week. The practical reason for my appearance both late and in “scarcely appropriate” attire was that I had to attend a karate seminar and also I was on the Extraordinary Ministers rota. The spiritual reason runs much, much deeper, and is intimately intertwined with the very essence of my identity both as a human as as a human child of God.
The study of martial arts has enriched my life immeasurably and has given me a keen appreciation of the body that the Lord, in his ineffable wisdom, gave to me. It has taught me what this body can do, and has given me the strength, both in body and in character, to do things I never though possible before. In its turn, it has opened new depth in my relationship with God. Before every lesson, I pray that the Lord give me the strength and humility to teach and to learn, and to give me confidence in my life as his servant.
Until this week (coincidentally, the very week we’re all talking about what we wear to Mass), I had never worn my karate uniform to Mass, in spite of having a deep desire to do so since I started martial arts ten years ago. This weekend gave me the chance to present a very important part of myself before the Lord, as his servant, present and willing to share his Communion with the faithful.
Maybe some people there would have been happier if I’d changed. The Lord, however, knows my heart, and he knows how significant Saturday’s Mass was for me, and I am grateful.
Report Comment
#15 by Jack Rakosky on August 7, 2012 - 7:36 pm
Reply Quote
Thank you Elizabeth Durack #9 and Paul Robertson #14 for your excellent comments. If PTB had a “comment of the week” award I would nominate you both.
You have both eloquently given us a great amount of data to help us understand how people experience the question under discussion So what will I wear to church?
Think what a wonderful but very different blog PTB would be if we had 20, or 30 or even 50 people who had given responses that shared their personal experience in the manner in which the two of you have.
Both of the answers are wonderful stories that I would certainly put in my homily file if I gave homilies. What wonderful stories to inspire people to start conversations in small faith sharing groups!
Wouldn’t it be great if homilists and pastoral ministers around the country were coming to PTB not to just read interesting ideas in posts, and read peoples varied opinions about those ideas but they came to collect stories that they could actually use in a practical way in their ministries.
As for all the commenters who like myself are racking up comment scores opining about every topic as well as each others opinions, surprisingly if we tried we could actually talk about our own experience as well as other peoples opinions and behavior.
If you go back to the earlier post on Should People Dress Up for Church under comment #6 you will find that I (like you) carefully thought about and described what I had actually done in various situations and how I had interpreted my own behavior. My story isn’t as likely to find its way into a homily, but any anthropologist who was studying this question would be very happy for my data as well as yours.
Report Comment
#16 by Kimberly Hope Belcher on August 7, 2012 - 11:14 pm
Reply Quote
@Jack Rakosky – comment #15:
Yes, and you also pointed out, implicitly, the role of exploitation in our clothing industry.
I also think Peter Rehwahlts’s observations from the other thread, that each liturgy doesn’t take place in a vacuum but forms and is formed by a lifelong experience of worship, is relevant here. As I said, I have attended liturgy barefoot once, on accident; I don’t do it every week, but the fortuitous experience I had that time has an enduring influence on my liturgical life. Perhaps the same will be true for Paul Robertson. And I think the same can be said of the baptismal garment.
Report Comment