Journal of Sacred Work

   Each day, we dress to meet the world. Many spend long periods each morning washing, dressing, applying make-up, doing hair, arranging clothes just so. On the way to work, I see women and men checking the mirror to see if…if what? Do we look "okay." Are we ready to meet others?  We all want to present our best selves as we encounter our fellow beings. We know that others are constantly judging our appearance just as we judge theirs.
   How do we dress for our encounter with the holy? Most faiths have elaborate rituals around this and many of those rituals include clothing. Jewish men (and some women) approach prayer by donning a shawl called a tallit. The Torah mandates that the tallit include a critical detail – a thread of blue know as the tekhelet. The corners of the tallit have knotted fringes known as tzitzit. All of these aspects hold sacred meaning for Jews as they approach their morning encounter with Yahweh.
   As most of us know, Catholics engage the rosary. Those Catholics who have dedicated their lives to their faith change clothes for the occasion. Nuns and priest discard ordinary western clothes for the dark simplicity of clothes. Their senior leaders – bishops, cardinals and popes, escalate their dress adding more and more gold embroidery on the assumption that somehow richer clothes better signify the hierarchy involved in sacred encounter – the richer the clothes, the assumption is, the better we are prepared to meet God…

    People of Islamic faith are concerned to wear the "right" clothes for prayer. Modesty is important. Women are to cover their heads and, in some cases, their faces as well. Buddhist clerics, as contrasted with Catholic bishops, focus on simple robes. Protestant ministers typically wear black robes.
   What does all of this mean? It is tempting to pass judgment on the approaches taken by different religions. For example, since I was raised Protestant, I was brought up to wonder why senior Catholic clerics dressed so regally when Jesus himself wore the simplest of clothes.
   But who am I to judge? It seems that the critical element is this: how do we approach prayer? If clothing helps to prepare us for sacred experiences, than prayer shawls and special clothing may be helpful. The main point, however, is not the clothes, is it? Does God care what we wear as we seek our encounter with God?
   The main point is how we lean into Love. Have we clothed our hearts with kindness? Have we inclined our eyes to see the best in others? Have we tilted our ears to hear the sounds of grace and the needs of others?  Loving attitude, not fine fabric, must be our clothing for holy encounter.

   This is the key for great caregivers. Nurses used to wear white. Now they often wear colorful scrubs or lay clothing. Doctors used to wear white coats. Many appear now in regular business suits. The question, again, is not clothes but attitude, intention, and behavior.

  Still, I have begun my own practice of donning the clothing of prayer used by others. For a few days now, I have draped a Navajo prayer shawl around my neck – in part to break myself from my old habits – to awaken myself to another way of encountering the holy.
   It has been helpful. As I put the bright colors around my neck, I notice how different they are from the conservative white shirt, dark suit, and wing tips I have worn so very many days of my life.
   To be awake! That is the challenge Love sends us each moment of the day. Clothing may seem like a small thing. Yet, it can act as a trigger to nudge us toward the respectful attitude of grace we need to experience Love.
   What do you think? What if you were to wear African clothing to work in honor of the golden thread of faith that the tribes of that great continent have passed to us? What if you were to drape a Tallit around your neck as you entered your morning meditation? It can’t hurt. And perhaps it will act as an aid in awakening thinking – and in nudging the spirit to a new way of opening the heart to Love.

-Erie Chapman