Whose Brand Are We Wearing?

I used to sew my own clothes (I didn't do much of it, but I did sew a few dresses and skirts). I remember wishing at times as I tried my hand at this domestic art that my clothes didn't look quite so homemade. I suppose I could have sewn a tag with my name on it, creating my own brand. 

But at the same time, I wasn't very good at sewing yet, so that would have created more embarrassment than my teenage self might have been willing to handle. 

I was no good at eyeballing my size and cutting the material accordingly. I also got easily frustrated with the directions, but I had to have a pattern because of my aforementioned lack of skill at eyeballing size. As my dubious skill with this domestic art grew, I collected quite a few patterns, and as I wasn't super organized, the pieces became a jumble of thin, yellow paper in the sewing box. 

In Romans 12:1-2, Paul says: "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God -- this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is -- His good, pleasing, and perfect will."

There was at least one project that I was excited to begin that I decided to lay out the pattern pieces, and found, to my frustration, that parts of the pattern I'd chosen had somehow gotten mixed up with parts from another pattern, and I wasn't skilled enough to figure out what exactly I needed. The patterns were different, and therefore, the patterns made different creations.

One pattern made one dress. Another pattern made another dress, but I -- in my limited skill -- could not make the various pieces of the patterns work into a single creation.

The world has a pattern. A brand, so to speak. It's a demanding one, you know? I've realized this with social media especially -- your social group is no longer centered around you and several local friends, possibly some long-distance relatives who hear about you now and then via letters. Through the power of Facebook, Instagram, SnapChat, TikTok, we keep up with each other instantaneously, several times a day -- or night, even. We make judgments on each other's appearance, thoughts, decisions, spiritual conditions, etc. There's so much pressure to keep up appearances. Patterns. Brands.

The pattern of the "Left." The pattern of the "Right." Some people have a "Trump" pattern. Some people have a "Global Warming" pattern. Some people have a "Don't Tread On Me" pattern. Some people have a "Forced vaccination" pattern. You take a picture of your kids without masks, post it, and realize -- people are judging your pattern, so you might have to explain your actions, so you quickly add a comment to talk about the distance between yourself and other people around you, or about how you told your kids to hold their breath while the picture was being taken (guilty). 

What. a. messy. pattern. What a messy brand.

I used to tune in for the Oscars, and occasionally, the Golden Globes (too busy now, too disgusted with the whole set-up now). It always made me laugh, though, as every time a reporter stops an actor to interview him or her, the question inevitably crops up: "So who are you wearing?"

Maybe it's my grammarian brain spazzing out in overdrive, but I picture clothing designers literally draping themselves over the person who had accepted their design -- so the actor is wearing them. 

"Oh," says the actor, "this is Versace." "Oh," says the actor, "this is Dior." "Oh," says the actor, "this is Armani."

And you can hear the oooh's and aaah's of the reporter as they fawn over top, world-class designers, and the actor or actress smiles and shimmers and shines in their raiment, transformed from their original state of being from when they'd woken up that morning into the gorgeous creation they are that evening -- because they reflect the brand of their designer.

I wonder how many of us would say, "Oh, this is the Holy Spirit. This is Jesus. This is my Lord Who clothed me when I stepped out of the old pattern into His transformative power."

The Lord offers us fabric that has nothing to do with this world, and His brand is different. So if you're trying to patch up your original cut-out with the new material, your creation is going to fail. As Jesus reminds John's disciples in Matthew 9:16: "No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch will pull away from the garment, making the tear worse."

New cloth, new pattern. You know, every time I'd begin a new dress, that first cut into the material was one I made with bated breath. I'd painstakingly laid out the pieces to fit just so. Some pieces needed to be on a folded edge, and some didn't. And if I made a single mistake in the layout, once I cut the material, there was no going back. Severed fabric cannot be repaired without leaving a scar.

I'm so thankful that God holds the scissors, cuts the pattern, lays out His perfect design. Not only do I not have to be conformed to the world's pattern, I don't want to be. God's patterns are perfect, and His creations are beautiful. They are transforming.

You wake up every morning and put on new clothes, right? And it just occurred to me, you have the choice of what clothes you wear. You can grab one set of clothing, or another set of clothing, but whatever clothes you wear that day will be the clothes that cover you. 

I know. My first thought was this: But God doesn't look at the outward appearance; He looks at the heart. True. But these clothes are spiritual clothes that God makes for you. They are the ones mentioned in Revelation 3:5: "He who overcomes will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out his name from the Book of Life, but will acknowledge his name before My Father and His angels."

So these clothes are the clothes God looks at, because they are His brand. His stamp of belonging. The God-brand.