Ada L. Simpson

Put on your Sunday clothes

I was bored the other day. It was a rainy, chilly, dreary Sunday afternoon. I came home from church and put on those clothes that you would never dare wear outside of the confines of your own home. I settled onto the couch with a nice, hot cup of tea and the remote control. I’m up to a few thousand cable channels now, but I still can’t find anything good on TV. Football … click. Infomercials … click. Weather channel … click. My last resort is the classic movie channel. Yay! I find Hello Dolly! with its all-star cast and fabulous Broadway music. I love the score, and because I’m home alone I can sing right along! “Before the Parade Passes By,” “Elegance,” “Hello Dolly!” and “Put On Your Sunday Clothes”: “Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out, strut down the street and have your picture took.”

Sunday clothes — now there’s a term from a bygone era. I had Sunday clothes when I was a kid. They were saved for very special occasions such as weddings, birthday parties, getting your “picture took,” and oh yes, going to church. Every year, just before Easter Sunday, my mother would wait until everyone had gone to bed, and then out came the sewing machine. She would work ’til the wee hours making a new dress or suit for me. Come Easter Sunday, I’d be dressed to the nines in new togs, black patent leather shoes, white gloves, banana curls (just like Shirley Temple!), and some of the ugliest hats this world has ever known!

After the musical was over, I began to think about the people I had seen at Mass that weekend. Sunday clothes? Not so much. The attire ran the gamut; some people were well dressed and others … well, let’s just say they spent a little less time on their appearance. I don’t want you to think that I’m denigrating people for not having high-quality, expensive clothes. Far from it. I’m well aware that there are people who can ill afford finery that is reserved for special occasions. I’m referring to those who have a closet (or two) full of suits, ties, or dresses but opt for more casual attire for Mass. And for some who attend Mass nowadays, casual attire would be a step or two up. I’m not the only person who has observed this. Just about everyone I know in ministry has remarked to me at one time or another how dress at Mass has become, ahem, “informal.”

I have spent the best portion of my life as a music minister in several churches in the northeastern part of this country. It is my personal observation that over the past few decades, peoples’ appearance and attire at the sacrifice of the Mass has become progressively more casual. I’m sure I have seen it all: holey, dirty jeans; sweat shirts and sweat pants; form-fitting spandex; short- shorts and miniskirts; low-cut blouses; army fatigues; beach wear; sneakers; flip-flops; baseball caps (worn backward or forward); and my personal favorite, T-shirts with inappropriate words and pictures.

This casual approach to dress is not limited to those who sit in pews. Many parishes in this country are struggling with the problem of ministers who come to Mass in less than acceptable attire. This across-the-board problem stretches from altar servers to lectors, eucharistic ministers to ushers. Unfortunately, I’ve seen some ministers sporting most of the aforementioned “wardrobe malfunctions” or fashion faux pas.

This certainly presents a challenging problem for pastors, pastoral associates, and heads of ministries. What’s a parish to do? Can we dictate what may or may not be worn? Should we become the fashion police in our ecclesial community? Must we become the Mr. Blackwell of the liturgical realm? It’s a tough call.

Ultimately, the question boils down to whether or not a parish should adopt a dress code for ministers. I don’t think we should be in the business of legislating attire, and I’ll tell you why. I’m concerned about who gets to decide what’s appropriate and what’s not. What is appropriate in Maui may not be appropriate in Anchorage. What works in Dallas may not work in Boston. What is acceptable in January may not be acceptable in June. And let’s just be honest, what’s appropriate dress for a 15-year-old may not be appropriate for someone over 50. What may be appropriate for one culture, ethnic group, or background may be offensive to another. The determination of what is appropriate attire is subjective, and as soon as a rule is made, there’ll be an exception for someone, for some reason. The following case in point is a true story.

A certain parish had a dress code that included the regulation “No shorts for ministers — period.” As luck (or misfortune) would have it, their primary cantor broke his leg and could not get trousers on over his cast. The parish was forced to make an exception and amend their hard and fast rule.

I have one more item for your consideration — that is, the treatment of vesture and appointments. I am appalled by the way some vestments are thrown about and not cared for. Altar servers need direction, assistance, and adult supervision so that their vestments don’t wind up in a pile on the floor after Mass. Appointments like altar cloths and funeral palls should be cleaned often, stored properly, and cared for lovingly. If asked, some parishioners will be happy to organize and assist in these tasks. Finally, the care and reverence for vesture must extend to clergy as well. Vestments should be hung neatly and stored at the conclusion of Mass and never cast on a chair, banister, or cabinet. When visiting another parish for a wedding or funeral, a clergyperson should not transport the alb rolled up in a briefcase or in something even worse, like a shopping bag. Wrinkled, dirty, and worn appointments and vestments send a very clear, negative message to the people of God.

It’s time to take a common-sense approach to attire for our ministers and parishioners. Instead of making rules and regulations, perhaps we could offer some guidelines or suggestions, stressing the importance of respect and reverence for the Body of Christ, present in word and sacrament and in each person gathered. Instead of making a list of do’s and don’ts, we could remind our brothers and sisters in Christ what we come to celebrate every week. Instead of enforcing laws, we could reinforce the beauty, the meaning, the significance, and the awe of the sacrifice of the Mass. At the end of the day, it’s not really about our outward appearance at all; it’s about our attitude and our disposition. Our outward appearance is a pretty good indicator of our inward disposition. If we come to Mass with the proper disposition, then we cannot help but present our best selves. St. Paul tells us that our bodies are a temple of the Holy Spirit and that we must glorify God through our earthly bodies (1 Cor 6:19–20). If we were invited to meet the pope, the president, or any other head of state, how much attention would we pay to our appearance? Does it not therefore stand to reason that when we approach the altar of God, we come garbed in modesty, reverence, and respect? When we gather for Mass each Sunday, we believe that earth unites with heaven. We touch the divine. We get a glimpse and a foretaste of the heavenly and eternal banquet. We are a sacramental people. We are a people who recognize the sacredness in ourselves and in each other. We recognize that we are earthen vessels. We believe “that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us … always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body” (2 Cor 4:7, 10).

People put on their “Sunday clothes” for different reasons. Sometimes they dress up to make themselves feel good. Sometimes they try to impress or attract other people. That’s what Barnaby and Cornelius did in Hello Dolly! They decided that they would put on their Sunday clothes, go to town, and not come home until they fell in love. Well, for us Christians, it’s a little bit different. We don’t have to find love. It is indeed Love who has found us. It is Love who formed us and fashioned us. It is Love who sent his only Son into the world to save us from our sin and give us eternal life. When we put on our Sunday clothes, we do so to worship and give praise, blessing, and honor to the One who loved us first. ML

Ada L. Simpson is director of liturgy and music at Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Boonton, N.J. She holds a master's degree in pastoral ministry from Caldwell College, Caldwell, N.J.

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