While we were on vacation, the Angel and I went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. She wondered, “does it ever surprise you how people dress at different places?” Now, before I give my 2 cents on this, it’s entrely possible she was talking to me. I was wearing very casual shorts and a polo shirt. She said she wasn’t referring to me specifically, so I’ll choose to believe her. But, honestly, whether she meant it or not, she was right. Did it surprise me how I was dressed at such a fancy place, on a date with a beautiful woman (who looked like a million bucks)?

My answer was no, but it was a complicated no.

I wasn’t surprised because I do quite a few weddings, and more and more guests are wearing t-shirts and baseball caps. There used to be “church clothes,” and now there aren’t. Teachers at the local school district no longer wear ties or dress shoes, often opting for jeans and yoga pants instead.

Now, on the one hand, at least in the case of church clothes, that you come is more important than how you come, right? And any obstacle should be removed, immediately. And maybe that reasoning applies in other places. That our weird uncle shows up to our wedding is the point, no matter what he’s wearing. And if being comfortable helps the school with teaching times tables or American history, then by all means, dress down.

There is a cost to everything, and in this casualization (yes, probably not a word, but you get the point) of our culture, something has been lost.

If we don’t set moments, people, and events apart as special, will they eventually lose their special-ness? Will we become desensitized to the concept of significance? Will everything just become common and forgettable? If I can go to the gym, then to the grocery store, then to dinner with the Angel, without changing my clothes (or mindset), does that subconsciously express an equality where none exist? A date with my wife is not the same as grocery shopping. Without a delineation between moments, wouldn’t they all run together?

On days I officiate weddings, the preparation takes time. I shave, iron my shirt, purposefully choose a tie and wristwatch. This focus, I think, is totally appropriate for the ceremony – after all, this is the first day of a marriage. Superficial or not, this intention helps to move my heart into a reverent posture.

Now, maybe it’s not that important. Maybe we don’t need superficialities to recognize special-ness. Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe it isn’t necessarily a disregard for significance. Maybe it is the reclamation of the essence of a beautiful moment without any bells or whistles. Maybe.

Or maybe it is a blurring of lines, disrespect for time and space, disregard of the sacred nature of everyone and everything. Maybe some things should feel different, maybe they should be different.

Who knows? See? A complicated no. Here’s what I know: I want you there Sunday morning, and I don’t care if you haven’t gotten to brush your teeth and are still wearing your pajamas. But here’s what else I know: I was underdressed for our dinner. I felt as if I was communicating something about our time that I didn’t want to communicate, even for a second.

We can throw away convention, if we want, and cut out all mindless traditions. But that’s the key, isn’t it? The word “mindless.” We can lose the things, but we need to be aware that we are losing them. We need to be absolutely sure we can, and want to, bear the cost. Things don’t gain or lose their significance in t-shirts and yoga pants. Things only lose their significance through our apathy and mindlessness.