Henry David Thoreau was of the opinion that we should give a lot of thought before buying any new clothes. He believed that a change in outerwear should reflect genuine change inside us. Don't get that new shirt until you change your cranky temperament. That's about opposite from what we do a lot of times today: we buy new clothes in hopes they will change us inwardly, or at least change how others will perceive us.
Every once in a while the letters of the New Testament give us a little photo of everyday life in the early church. We can almost see the church members in their relationships with each other, the necessary give and take of life together, the need for constant forgiveness and renewal if there's to be any semblance of community.
Interestingly, the image of a change of clothes pops up a number of times in scripture. What started with less than a fig leaf in Genesis moved on to animal skins, holy vestments, king's robes of purple satin—and everything in between. Jesus' birth virtually begins with a description of what he was wearing—wrapped in swaddling cloths—and the story of his life ends with soldiers rolling dice for his seamless robe. Our first hint about the resurrection is the linen grave cloths neatly rolled up and placed to the side of the tomb. It is reputed to be the very shroud that now lies in a crypt in the cathedral of Turin, Italy. In his ministry, Jesus taught that we are not to be anxious about what we wear, which should come as a word of relief to those who obsess over it. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they neither toil nor spin. Yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." He also taught that we are to respond to those who are too poor to afford clothing, and give to the least of his sisters and brothers. Just as John the Baptist had instructed, whoever has two coats should share one with those who have none. Then, Jesus, in his description of the great heavenly banquet, spoke of the necessity of having the right kind of robe to wear. It was an image of life in the kingdom based on actual custom in those days, when a person of wealth or a king actually provided the right outfit to those who had been invited to the banquet. It was both an act of generosity and a means of identification.
The theme of proper attire is carried over into the New Testament letters. Faith is described as a matter of taking off the old stuff and putting on the new. Most of us, if we've gotten a new shirt, or pants, or a skirt, don't need too much encouragement to start using it. I am familiar with one or two people who have bought clothes but never actually wore them. They preferred the tried and true—and never could bring themselves to return the new items. So some closets contain clothes that are a year or two old but look brand new. Is it possible that we can have the new outfit of faith in our wardrobe but never actually put it on? Apparently so. The author of Colossians writes to remind the folks to take the tags off and pull the pins and plastic out and get dressed. It seems they were like some of us, getting attached to an old flannel shirt that looks like it's been through a war, but we still hold on and wear it when just kicking around the house. That's what happens in the spiritual life sometimes. We've committed to Christ, and Christ is committed to us, but: we still aren't acting like much has happened. The old behaviors—the resentments, anger, hostility, judgments—they still constitute our inner wardrobe. Scripture says, Toss those out. They don't do anything for you anymore. That attitude you're putting on: it's just not you. I remember Leslie went on a cleaning spree one year. Later I went looking for an old worn tattered t-shirt that I liked. I said, Where's that shirt of mine? She said, Oh, that thing? It was a mess. I put it in the rag bin. I was cut to the quick. But: some things need to go to the rag bin.
In the early church, the ceremony of baptism included this literally. You actually stripped down and put on fresh clean white robes. It was a sign of the inner change. That baptismal rite was powerful. There were weeks of intensive study and fasting and prayer, then in the darkness of night they were immersed in water, and arose to new life. That was an unforgettable rite of passage into the Christian life.
So—what stuff would we like to leave here in 2006, so you don't have to take it with you into 2007? Have you ever been frustrated trying to get through airport security? You remove your coat, your keys, loose change, put them in the bin. Then you go through—but there's that noise—take off your shoes, your belt, anything at all with metal. Then they might use that wand on you. You have to take off almost everything to get rid of the problem.
There is even more importantly the fact that we have to put on the new. "As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience." The list of virtues is a description of the very character of Christ. Indeed, in Romans and elsewhere it says, put on the Lord Jesus Christ. We are to adopt the character of Christ. Piece by piece, we are to don this new outfit. In Ephesians 6, it describes the full armor of God. It's not just civilian clothes—it's battle gear: the helmet of salvation, breastplate of righteousness, the sword of the Spirit.
It's not mentioned as an article of clothing, but it's in the middle of this section, so it probably can be considered as such. "Bear with and forgive one another, just as the Lord has forgiven you." Wear this one continually—you'll need it. They say a sweater is something you wear when your mother's cold. But forgiveness is something we always need to have ready.
Now here's an interesting aspect of all this. When we've put on the right clothes, we're like the priests of Old Testament times: we're ready for worship. Only, in the new community of Christ, it wasn't a matter of expensive material and vast temples. Holy array, as it was called—sacred garments—were the qualities of character we've been talking about. Some of us wonder what we'll wear—to work, to church—but how much thought do we put into this spiritual attire that is the real focus of faith? it says, Let the peace of Christ dwell in your hearts. The most important thing we can do to begin our worship is to settle down and let that peace dwell within. It's an interesting way to phrase it. The peace is always there, always available, but we have to decide to let it take up residence in us. It's a deliberate decision. Invite peace into our hearts.
Ready for worship: Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs to God with gratitude in your hearts. Real, heartfelt worship is the outcome of a faithful life: not a perfect life, or a life without faults: a faithful life. Indeed, in Romans 12, which is another description of daily life in the Christian community, we are told that offering ourselves to God every day IS our worship. We gather weekly or more often to celebrate life in Christ together, as we should. But our worship occurs every day, every moment.
Now some of us may have noticed that I left out an article of clothing. I wanted to save the best for last.
There's one piece that covers everything. I have an old pair of bib overalls that I've been wearing again lately. They cover a multitude of sins. But I like them. They go over all. That's what love does. It's the most important thing of all. We've all heard that—but we need to hear it, often. As long as we live. When a church has love, it has all it needs. I've only been here a year—one year ago today. But I can tell you; this church has love, shares love. That's the key ingredient. The one thing needful. We have this tag line for our church which the vision team designed last spring. First Presbyterian Church is a lifeline for people to find love and serve Jesus. That's who we are, that's what we do. And as we live who we are, and share that love, we will be blessed, greatly, by God. |
