Editor’s Note: For Part 1 in this series on the Bible and modesty (“Where Modesty Starts”), click here. For Part 2 (“It’s About More Than Personal Choices”), click here. For Part 3 (“Modesty Is Not About Protecting Corruption”), click here.
So here is the crux of this conversation. The clarity I was looking for. The thing I set out to learn; the reason why modesty matters to Christians. It all boils down to this.
Modesty matters to us because modesty mattered to Jesus.
It’s a part of how we become like Him.
Frankly, this has little to do with how Jesus dressed. I mostly don’t know what He wore (besides the initial get-up of swaddled cloths, and his later uniform of a tunic and sandals), even though the less-than-historically-accurate flannel-graph board of my Sunday School days always depicted Him with long, shiny blonde hair and a bright blue sash.
But it has everything to do with how He lived. His whole life was marked by modesty. Especially when you consider that modesty is a product of humility.
“Jesus’ whole life was marked by modesty. Especially when you consider that modesty is a product of humility.”
Jesus, the King of Kings, wrapped Himself in the lowly flesh of humankind and became one of us. He could have come in all the trappings of a royal monarch, with the greatest palace and finest amenities, choosing a life of comfort and ease. He’s worthy of that and much more. But instead, He chose to arrive as a helpless baby, and then lived as a man with no riches and no home, existing to serve those around Him rather than be served. I can’t say it better than Paul did in Philippians 2:
“Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God, and died a criminal’s death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6-8, NLT)
Modesty is the outward expression of inward humility. And we have to look to Jesus for that.
“Modesty is the outward expression of inward humility.”
When I was a kid at church camp, we all got these little bracelets that said WWJD: What Would Jesus Do? They were meant to serve as a reminder to choose to look like Jesus when we’re faced with a moment when we don’t know what to do, OR when we just want to go our own way. We’re supposed to ask “What would Jesus do?”, and then do that thing so that we look like Jesus.
I don’t think those bracelets were necessarily bad, but I think they fell short of teaching me what looking like Jesus actually means.
I used to imagine that to truly live as Christ, I would have to do something that looks more like becoming a nun and giving up every sense of the things that made me feel like myself so that I could truly follow faithfully. I knew I needed to try to be like Jesus in my life, but I didn’t really understand where that comes from. So there was a time in my life when most of the “change” that happened was superficial.
I dressed conservatively, I didn’t cuss, I didn’t drink, I said all the “right” things, I was at church every time the doors were open, I made sure to put money in the offering and volunteer my time. And most of those things weren’t harmful (in fact, a lot of them were good!) but none of them deeply changed my heart.
As I’ve grown in my spiritual journey, I’ve understood a little more what it means for Lydia to follow Jesus–and it came with a shift in questions. Instead of asking “What would Jesus do?” the question is “How would Jesus live if He were me?”
Instead of asking “What would Jesus do?” the question is “How would Jesus live if He were me?”
Instead of waiting for a moment when I’m supposed to choose to do whatever Jesus would do, I get to offer every moment, every aspect of myself, and ask what my life would look like if Jesus were the one living it.
Psalm 51:10 is a cry out to God that says “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (NIV). I’ve come to realize that God wants to change me from the inside out. To look like Jesus is less about momentary or superficial choices, and more about lifelong and soul-deep transformation. It’s mostly not about God changing my personality, and it mostly IS about Him changing my character.
If we took the charge of doing “WHAT would Jesus do” literally, none of us would be living in houses or driving cars, none of us would have 401k’s or Instagrams, and we’d all be living in the Middle East with 12 disciples and a friend group made up of prostitutes and IRS workers.
Maybe that’s what some of us need to do. But for most of us, we just need to shift the question from “What would Jesus do?” to “How would Jesus live if He were me?”
“I’ve come to realize that God wants to change me from the inside out.”
God created you to be YOU—with all of your different abilities and talents and quirks and passions and pleasures and yes, even fashion senses—but He wants you to have HIS heart. He has you where you are with His purpose. And calls you to live with His humility. In Romans 13, we are told to put on Christ, not to spend our time flaunting ourselves (whether what we are flaunting happens to be our body, our money, our intelligence, or whatever). We should be drawing people’s attention to Christ, not to ourselves.
And as for the phrase that started this whole thing off…well, you won’t catch me saying “modest is hottest.” Not because I’m intensely offended by it (I’m not), nor because I think I have all the answers to issues of modesty (I don’t), nor because I think all people who’ve said it are automatically “toxic” (they’re mostly not—although they will get a hearty eye roll from me). The reason I keep that phrase out of my vocabulary is that I think there are much, much better ways to teach and talk about something that really does matter. And just saying “modest is hottest” is a cheap, confusing cop-out of a conversation that’s actually worth having.
“Modest is hottest” centers other people’s perception of our attractiveness and being found “hot” by them as the end goal of modesty. It makes modesty primarily about what other people think of us . . . and that is ultimately not what drives our conduct as Christians. Our motivation for modesty is not about who I’m attracting to me, but how I’m pointing to Christ.
“In Romans 13, we are told to put on Christ, not to spend our time flaunting ourselves (whether what we are flaunting happens to be our body, our money, our intelligence, or whatever).”
(And it’s also downright confusing. If we use this phrase in the context of how we dress, and modesty is supposed to mean not drawing attention to ourselves sexually—but being “hot” is directly about others finding us physically attractive—then isn’t this kind of backwards? It’s like saying “Don’t draw attention to yourself so that you can draw attention to yourself.” That is just plain illogical. Plus, when you get down to the brass tax, ain’t nobody putting on more clothes to seduce someone. Covering more skin and being less attention-getting is not typically the most practical way to come off as sexy. What is “modest” and what is “hottest” are not normally congruent, at least in our culture.)
But anyway. If you would like my two cents on how to dress the next time you’re standing in your closet and pondering what to wear, here’s what I’ll tell you:
“And all of you, dress yourselves in humility as you relate to one another, for God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and at the right time he will lift you up in honor.” (1 Peter 5:5-6, NLT)
Not my words. But good ones to live by.
Humility is the clothes of the Kingdom.
