Why I Wear a Suit to Mass
I reflected on the above while dressing for Mass this morning. There was a time when I deliberately wore simple clothing, such as flannel shirts and corduroys, to church. This was when I was a Liberal Protestant. I thought it not good to be ostentatious. I suppose I also wanted to show solidarity with the Masses, The Wretched of the Earth, to borrow Franz Fanon's phrase. Even after several years of having jobs in which it seemed a good idea to wear a suit, I stubbornly continued to dress down on Sundays.
Then after marrying a Korean, I was required to wear suits to the Confucian Chesa (sacrificial meals in honor of the deceased) held at home on important holidays and death anniversaries. All the males wore suits, to a ceremony even Confucious himself knew to be nothing more than a symbol of filial piety.
I came to realize that I wore suits for my bosses, my students, and ancestral spirits, but not for Jesus Christ. Once I became a Catholic and accepted the Real Presence, that Christ Himself was present in the Holy Eucharist, that the Mass was the ultimate Chesa, then I decided that wearing a suit would be a sign of respect for Our Lord.
While the older men at my Parish wear suits, I seem to be the only "young fogey" who holds on to the custom. There are times when I don't wear a suit to Mass, and I harbor no ill will for those who dress more casually on Sundays, but I'll continue to see my attire as one more way I can offer my best to Him Who died for my sins.
I reflected on the above while dressing for Mass this morning. There was a time when I deliberately wore simple clothing, such as flannel shirts and corduroys, to church. This was when I was a Liberal Protestant. I thought it not good to be ostentatious. I suppose I also wanted to show solidarity with the Masses, The Wretched of the Earth, to borrow Franz Fanon's phrase. Even after several years of having jobs in which it seemed a good idea to wear a suit, I stubbornly continued to dress down on Sundays.
Then after marrying a Korean, I was required to wear suits to the Confucian Chesa (sacrificial meals in honor of the deceased) held at home on important holidays and death anniversaries. All the males wore suits, to a ceremony even Confucious himself knew to be nothing more than a symbol of filial piety.
I came to realize that I wore suits for my bosses, my students, and ancestral spirits, but not for Jesus Christ. Once I became a Catholic and accepted the Real Presence, that Christ Himself was present in the Holy Eucharist, that the Mass was the ultimate Chesa, then I decided that wearing a suit would be a sign of respect for Our Lord.
While the older men at my Parish wear suits, I seem to be the only "young fogey" who holds on to the custom. There are times when I don't wear a suit to Mass, and I harbor no ill will for those who dress more casually on Sundays, but I'll continue to see my attire as one more way I can offer my best to Him Who died for my sins.
Redeemed by Our Savior, I work out my salvation with fear and trembling in Pohang, South Korea, where I live with my wife, daughter, and son and teach English at a science and technology university. Baptized a Methodist and raised a Missouri Synod Lutheran in Buffalo, NY, I spent six years as a guest of the Anglican Communion before being received by the Grace of God into the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church on the Feast of Saint Andrew, my patron, anno domini 2002.
<< Home