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When I was last in Rome, a lifetime ago, I remember being so happy that the churches there has dress codes that were actually being enforced.  There were signs everywhere, reminding both men and women to cover up our shoulders and knees and everything in between.  It seemed to be reminding us also that, even though we were all on vacation to varying degrees, we were still entering a house of God, and even though we were tourists, some people might actually just be stopping in on their way home from work or to school to spend a quiet moment in prayer and we should be respectful of that.  Taking those five seconds to pull on a long skirt over my shorts gave me just enough time to mentally adjust my focus from play time to quiet time.  The clothing served as much as a physical a buffer between the outside world, the grime and the sweat, and the one inside the church, the cool and the calm, as it did a mental one, in that the added layers necessarily altered my pace to one where I had to slow down and appreciate the majesty of my surroundings.  It wasn’t fancy, but it did the trick.

Continued at Truth and Charity.


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