Hello, friends!
Do you wear a necklace with a cross on it? Or a yarmulke? Do you choose to cover yourself more when you are in a house of worship? Choices around religion and clothing can bring us together, and they can pull us apart.
There exist of course a myriad of formal religious clothing and headcovering options across the different faith traditions. Some Sikhs (of all genders) wear a turban, also called a dastar. Some Jews (of all genders) wear a yarmulke, also called a kippah. Some Christians (of all genders) wear a cross necklace, and some (Mormons) wear a temple garment under their clothing. Some Muslims (of all genders) cover their hair in a variety of ways such as with a hijab or a taqiyah. Plus endless other things. The similarities and differences can be amazing points of discussion among peoples.
Then we have the formal religious garb some ordained leaders or clergy choose to wear. A priest or minister might wear a clerical collar, a rabbi a tallis whether or not those in the congregation do (it is not specific to rabbis). Some Buddhist monks and nuns (of all genders) wear orange-brown robes, also called kasaya. Plus a ton more. On special feast days or holidays in a variety of faiths, there may be particular clothing unique to that day that the religious leaders wear.
Then there are more general types of clothing options related to religion, often coming out of a desire for modesty, interpretation of scriptural teaching, showing respect to a place or time, or something else. So this might mean wearing a shirt with sleeves when in a place of worship. Or it might mean choosing as a woman to only wear long skirts and not wear pants.
Then there is the effort to show respect when visiting someone else's place of worship. If you attend a bat mitzvah, you might don a yarmulke, even if you are not Jewish. If you visit a mosque, you may wear a scarf over your head and remove your shoes, even if you are not Muslim. While it may be obvious for those raised in a multi-religious society that we must do it, these efforts convey deep honor you are offering to another group of people by choosing to respect their standards when you are in their house of worship.
And then we have places that strive to keep certain public spaces secular by banning religious symbols altogether, like when in 2004 France ostensibly banned those in schools from wearing things like kippot, hijabs, crosses, and more, and Quebec followed with a similar law in 2019. Some say these bans have mostly affected Muslim women, who will not be hired unless they remove their headscarves at work, which for many might be akin to removing their shirt in public: it is about modesty. Disagreements over religious garments pulling people apart.
As someone who will hopefully become a rabbi, I have given this a fair amount of thought in the past few years and I thought I would share a bit of my own personal process to making some decisions.
Growing up, the majority of people at my synagogue wearing yarmulkes were men. However, one young woman--only a few years older than me--wore a yarmulke. She gave me the courage to wear one, as I did at my bat mitzvah. However, I never felt it was required and still do not feel like anyone needs to wear one in order to connect to G-d or to show proper respect in a synagogue.
However, a few summers ago I was in Shabbat services and was seated in front a few pre-teen girls. When I realized who was behind me, I immediately went to get a yarmulke to put on so that they, too, could see an adult woman wearing a yarmulke and feel empowered, just as I had when I saw the older student in my Hebrew School wearing one. I have worn either a yarmulke or headband in Jewish services ever since--both as a reminder to myself that it is a sacred time in a sacred space, and because of those three young girls in the synagogue that night and everything they represent for the future of an empowered female cohort of Judaism.
One option I enjoy wearing as an alternative to a yarmulke is a soft headband. It's great because women across the Jewish spectrum who choose to cover their hair in some way may opt for a headband; I know Orthodox women who cover with a headband or wrap, and liberal ladies, too (yarmulkes on women tend to show up primarily in the liberal parts of Judaism). It feels unifying in this way across Judaism, where all too often there are divisions. I also like the headband because it is visible from the front in the way my yarmulke is not, so it can demonstrate to those who know that I am marking myself for a specific, holy purpose in those moments.
Aside from Jewish religious services, the other time I opt to wear some
kind of head covering is in intentionally multifaith spaces. It stemmed
from an experience a few years ago, when I was asked to serve on a multifaith panel considering whether we should include the non-religious in our interfaith meetings
(my answer: duh). As I looked at the Muslim representative next to me
in his headcovering, I realized that I wanted something to mark that I
was a Jewish representative. Now, I know that a headband to many does
not immediately convey "Jewish," but it does to me in these settings and
to those who would be aware of this practice.
My opinions on headcovering and all other things religious garb might change tomorrow. Maybe I will read a new piece of text that will convince me otherwise, or I will see something in a new light that I had not considered before. But for now, the repeated process of putting something on my head before prayer and multifaith gatherings is a ritual in which I find meaning and plan to continue.
How about you--do you choose to wear any religious clothing or headcovering? Why or why not? Do you do it every day, or only on certain occasions? Have you ever given it thought, is it a tradition you have inherited, or a little bit of both? Do you think these practices across traditions make us more similar, or different? Does it matter?
Perhaps having a tattoo of a religious symbol on your body gives you
comfort in moments of hardship. Maybe wearing earrings that indicate
your religion makes you feel pride in belonging to a group, or maybe
donning certain items that you believe are religiously-commanded makes
you feel connected to G-d. But whatever you choose to do, or wear, or not wear, I would like to borrow from my eastern siblings and say Namaste--the Divine in me bows to the Divine in you. As I believe and my Jewish tradition teaches, we are all created betzelem elohim--in the image of G-d--and that means our whole selves, whatever we choose to wear when we show up in our lives.
Sending light and health to all. Now go out and love one another.
<3,
Allyson
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Extra notes:
In terms of the tallit, the prayer shawl, I opt to only wear mine on the High Holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
On a general note, I always strive to cover my shoulders in any house of worship I enter, regardless of whether that is the norm in that place, out of respect for the seriousness of why we are there. I also often wear a Star of David necklace, which I can touch in tough moments and which also conveys something of my beliefs to others, which I also like.
I have heard the argument among some of my contemporaries in rabbinical
school and seminary that wearing religious garments can create a sense
of differentiation they do not want between them and those they serve
(similarly to why I have found some clergy would prefer to be addressed
by their first name, without any title). They strive to cross this gap by avoiding wearing specific religious garb, or may only wear
special garments when leading a religious service.
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