Wednesday, August 8, 2001
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Wednesday, August 8, 2001 |
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Dressing to meet the King of Kings
By Sallie Satterthwaite
In an issue that often splits generations, this guy was exactly in the middle. He was old enough to know better, late 50s, I'd say. His knit Bermudas were faded and ill-fitting, and the t-shirt that hung over his bulging gut had a garish cartoon embarrassing his alma mater. He wore flip-flops. He looked as though he'd just bounced off the riding mower and come into the house for a beer. But that's not where I saw him. I saw him returning from the altar rail where he had just received Holy Communion. Slipping out the back door of the sanctuary with his family, he may have been trying to beat the Sunday brunch crowd at Shadows, or for an early tee-time. Or maybe he was hurrying back to that mower. The image of the slovenly worshipper came to mind recently as I arranged for a family member to use a family and friends pass on our favorite airline. As everyone who has ever flown "non-rev" knows, the neatest denim blazer or dress will put first class off limits, and the smartest thong sandals will keep you out of coach. You've got to dress better to meet a Delta gate agent than to meet the King of Kings. This is a difficult issue to discuss. On one hand you have those who say that everyone, regardless of appearance, is welcome in God's house, that what matters is what's in one's heart and not what's on one's back. After all, more casual dress codes reflect our more casual culture. On the other hand, there are those usually older who huff that they had to wear hats and white gloves to church, or suit jackets and ties. They remember that only on the most sweltering days were gentlemen invited to remove jackets in an un-air-conditioned sanctuary. The relaxation of church dress codes comes up often at meetings of church worship committees, and while I would like to hear from readers, I doubt we'll resolve anything here. And I need to add the disclaimer that this is my opinion and does not reflect that of the congregation I belong to and cherish. The phenomenon of "dressing down" in the work place may have been the catalyst that inspired people to reevaluate their sartorial choices across the board. It could be that those who must wear coat and tie all week revel in wearing sports clothes on the weekend, including to church. And those in whose occupations casual wear is acceptable love to dress up on Sunday morning. But I think we're missing the point here. What we wear reflects the value we place on an event. I remember the last couple of seasons that the New York Met brought world class opera to Atlanta, and the permutation was in full swing. In an earlier era, no one would have thought of attending an opera in attire short of cutaways and floor-length gowns. Toward the end of the Met tours, hole-y blue jeans and ponchos sat side by side with Buckhead matrons whose diamonds came out of the vault for the occasion. I think the attitude was supposed to be "Oh, we're just glad people come it doesn't matter what they wear." But when we no longer make a little effort for noteworthy performances or exhibits, such occasions are devalued and attendance dwindles. The Met no longer comes to Atlanta, and Atlanta is struggling to support its own opera company. What we wear reflects the value we place on an event. A young person at his grandmother's funeral home visitation wore a black t-shirt with demonic emblems on it, pink-dyed hair, cut-offs. "Oh, but we're just so glad he came," was the unspoken message from the family. "This is what I think of my family," was his. At the other extreme, I know a salesman who puts on a tie to make preliminary phone calls from his home. He doesn't own a view-phone; no one can see him. He just believes he brings a more professional tone of voice to his calls if he dresses as though he takes them seriously. Now I know as well as anyone that the Lord whom Christians serve had caustic remarks about whited sepulchers, elegant-looking structures that contain dead men's bones, by which he meant people whose good appearance masks empty interiors. No, we can't know what is in the hearts of those sitting in the pews around us, and if we did, it's not our place to judge them. Sometimes circumstances make it impossible to dress up for church. The love of God is unconditional and not earned by our appearing our best. What would be good enough anyhow? And no, I don't believe God needs us to dress or to act in a particular way. But maybe the need is on our part. Maybe we need to prepare our inmost hearts to receive our Maker, and maybe that starts on the outside. Look at it this way: If you were invited to dine at the White House, would you wear a t-shirt over Capris? Would you don short-shorts and flip-flops to meet Billy Graham in person? What we wear reflects the value we place on what we are doing and on where we're going. And on whom we're meeting.
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