Every summer, Lorraine and I try to visit a church or two. Doing this helps us remember what it feels like to be the newcomer at church.We do web searches for “church near me” and then check out their websites for the basics so we know for sure what time to get there and if there is anything else of note.

A lot of the churches have something on their websites about what to wear. It seems crazy. What church is going to say, “We only welcome people in dresses and suits” or “We are a jean and shorts only worship," or "We’re going for more of a youngish hip vibe.” Clothes are a big deal, I guess.

I don’t really mind sticking out as a visitor. I want to see what the church does with us. Sometimes I do feel scrutinized by a new church as if people are wondering how well I'd fit in, if I'm "one of them." I hope we don’t do that with people either in church or outside of church because really, that's the totally wrong question. But there are some clothes that can’t be—or perhaps shouldn’t be—described on a website or captured with a smattering of photos.

These clothes can say a lot about who we are, and perhaps we shouldn't be so clueless about what we put on, and more importantly, what we're putting off.

Good morning, welcome to the church of the barbarians. Other kinds of people? You’ll have to look elsewhere for fellowship with them.

Oh, I see that the sin I love is also your sin of choice. So, in your case, yes, all are welcome, of course.

How about the church that says, “I love that shade of blue in your hatred.” Or “You’ve really done an amazing job with your one hundred percent cotton uncircumcised self-focus.”

My suit of anger, no matter how well-tailored, might be out. A blouse of wrath if it’s in the latest season cut and color, or my newly cleaned prideful polo shirt, well, I don't always feel so great when I put that on. We’ve got to get this under control.

Then there’s the silky sweater of slander with elegant obscene talk coming from high-achiever's mouth in the sweetest of tones. When we covet, even though it’s, you know, worn under all our outer garments, eventually it’s going to show. We can’t help that. A flowing dress of flattery is often applauded. Think of the lively leather coat of lies or the latest pair of jealousy jeans. These clothes are all made of natural, organic fibers. They're hard to resist. We easily embrace earthly fashions of the day.

Why do we celebrate such apparel? The world all around us does. We pretend not to, but all too often we’re just like everyone else.

But we don’t have to be.

We must get rid of those earthly clothes so admired by people everywhere. Do not save such clothes for another day or think we can keep them in our closets just in case. Don’t donate them to one of our resale shops.

The clothes of heaven, however, are radiant when we remember to put them on.

Our church welcomes the barbarians, yes, but also the slaves and the masters, at least I hope we do. We don’t have to wait till heaven to wear the clothes of Christ. New people are like new wineskins—we are meant to hold the new and not burst with the burden of old clothes, but this is really nothing about clothes or music or age. Something completely different has come into the world.

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17)

This is the church we want. It's where we belong. The blessed truth is that Jesus has made these new clothes for us. He is our tailor. Each of us has clothing that fits perfectly. This is not off the rack but custom-made finery. When properly worn, others can’t help but notice. Visitors might not know what to make of it at first. Can it be real now? It seems unlikely. Even we ourselves stand amazed because this Sunday best reflects Jesus himself. Yes, I really do look good in these clothes, and so do you. Isn’t it a marvel? Fresh, original and we'll never look better.