Easter morning, still dark outside, my alarm goes off, and I drag myself into the bathroom and begin to get ready for my long morning as a church accompanist. I reach for my new dress, the one I got on clearance and stashed away for this beautiful morning, but something’s wrong. I look inside the sheer dress. The inner liner is missing. I’m house sitting, and it must have fallen out at home, thanks to the help of my three-year-old who’d been playing with the hanger. Deciding against wearing my black Friday clothes, I rummage around my mother-in-law’s closet and pull out a pair of pants and pink sweater. Thankfully, we’re the same size.
It felt weird to be at church in someone else’s clothes. I felt a bit guilty that I borrowed without asking. But isn’t this what our life in Christ is all about?
This is the dress code of discipleship: we wear another’s clothes. We wear the grave-clothes of Jesus as we are baptized into his death. We wear the white robes of resurrection as we live in his life. We dress ourselves with his character. We put on his armor. The Spirit adorns our abilities with his supernatural power and we go about the work of the kingdom of God – not in dirty rags – but in royal splendor.
“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.”
Christian, the Father has put the best robe around your body, a ring on your finger, and sandals on your feet. Let’s have a feast and celebrate.