2 minute read
The insistence upon people wearing their “Sunday best” to church has never sat well with me. On a theoretical level, I understand the purpose of a church dress code. The idea is that people are entering into a reverential headspace of worship that’s set apart. They’re wanting to look and feel distinct from the rest of the week, so they’re coming before God with their best. It’s intended as an inward and outward expression of devotion. Plus there’s some psychological “fake it till you make it” at work where habits, values, and character are formed through the conscious effort.
Let’s keep it real, though. The vast majority of the time the Sunday morning dress code has little to do with a well-developed theology of corporate worship. It’s a cultural script. While seldom laid out so explicitly, the dress code is a powerful, subconscious means of forming tribal identity and maintaining tribal values. Without ever having to come right out and say it, people use the church’s dress code to achieve social status, avoid social stigma, and enforce social conformity. If a static picture is worth a thousand words, then an interactive dress code is worth a million.
I don’t get it. I mean, yeah, I get it… but I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about wearing jeans, sandals, and a t-shirt to church? Why are tattoos taboo? Whose life does it ruin if a guy has long hair or a girl has short hair? I sincerely don’t give a crap if a person has spiked hair, purple hair, or no hair. Yes, I understand that a certain level of tact is important as a way of expressing respect to others. Guys, don’t walk around shirtless in the grocery store. Girls, don’t go to grandma’s funeral wearing a naughty Catholic school girl outfit. Got it. But other than that, who cares?
Beyond the superficial BS, my core objection lies with the misguided values around appearance within Christian culture. I’ve encountered a lot of well-dressed, smooth-talking, professionally successful guys who church folk immediately loved but turned out to be abusive douchebags. Meanwhile, I’ve also met ragamuffin-types who others judged as lazy hooligans because they looked and sounded a little rough around the edges but turned out to be the solid dudes. You can’t judge a book by its cover. Christian culture is wrong for valuing the external over the internal.
The original beatniks were far less stereotypical than we like to imagine them, especially in their appearance. The image of the Beats in the collective consciousness has them sporting goatees while wearing tight black turtlenecks, sunglasses indoors, and French berets. I challenge anyone who reads this to find a single picture of William S. Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Carolyn Cassady, Joyce Johnson, or any of the others wearing anything resembling that. The lesson to take away is that truly countercultural people don’t always look the part.
