“Momma, why does the preacher always wear a dress?
That sweet little miscreant was not REALLY commenting on my gender orientation She was merely referring to my clergy robe. That garment of priestly splendor that signifies my holy authority.
But it really does sort of look like a dress.
On the one hand, I like it because it covers a lot of errors, such as my not checking my fly before I go on. But it’s a pain. If I have to reach for a comb, my keys, or my ringing cell phone, I have to hike it up to get to my pocket, and there’s no way to make that look dignified.
What is the deal about clothes anyway? Why did Adam and Eve have to screw that up at the very beginning? And what were they thinking with the fig leaves? If they’d just played it cool, I’d never have to worry about splitting the center seam of my pants again.
By the way, I loathe tight clothes any day of the year but especially during the summer. It’s so fricken HOT. And then people want me to wear a robe over my clothes? A coat and tie is bad enough when the temp makes a good illustration of where we don’t want to spend eternity. BTW, In heaven there’s central air and NO TIES.
Why don’t we all agree that jeans and t shirts are respectable AND comfortable, and be done with the whole debate
But these days, what has my knickers in a twist is that now my clothes aren’t tight enough. I had to bore a new hole in my belt and cinch my pants up tight so they don’t fall off. Now that would create a picture. There I am delivering my best soul saving, fire and brimstone, take no prisoners sermon, and suddenly my pants fall down to my ankles just below the hem of my dress--uh, robe.
In my nightmares I hope nobody notices. Instead of reaching down to pull them up, I do a quick shuffle off the stage, as I curse Adam and his damn fig leaves, as well as the kid who thinks I'm wearing a dress.