From a Crown to a Veil: A Pageant Girl’s Journey in Christian Modesty and Headcovering

    “Excuse me, I’m sorry if this is an offensive question, but what religion are you?” 

    Shocked, and a bit embarrassed, I turned around in the parking lot to face the inquiring voice of the woman behind me. “Me?” I questioned, smiling incredulously. The woman nodded. Self-consciously, my hands immediately ran over my dress and head covering. 

    Am I really that obvious? I’m just wearing a long dress from Target and a bandana.

    “Oh! I’m a Christian,” I responded. The woman looked down and kicked the gravel with her sandal. “I grew up Christian, but I don’t go to church anymore. I really like the thing in your hair. It’s pretty.” Thanking her, I briefly explained that I wear head coverings because of the passage in 1 Corinthians 11. Then, I informed her that I was a seminary student nearby and asked if she had any more questions for me. She declined my offer, but softly mentioned that she was interested in going back to church at some point. I told her she would always be welcome at my church, and we exchanged numbers. She went into the restaurant, and I got into my car. 

    To my own surprise, I have had several other similar encounters with strangers since I began my pursuit of Christian modesty and headcovering. 

    Modesty. It is a tired, worn-out word to many Christian women. My own awareness of this topic began before I was even in middle school. An awkward, introverted bookworm thoroughly active in my church’s youth group, I devoured every book on written for Christian teen girls that I could find. Passage after passage from these authors detailed how boys my age would become sexually aroused if the clothing I wore was too revealing, thus distracting them away from being able to focus in class or at church. I distinctly remember reading in horror from one author about how even the smallest glimpse at a bra strap could trigger a man to fantasize about the full appearance of my naked breasts. Attending modesty conferences, having measuring tapes for the length of my shorts, and wearing big t-shirts over my swimsuits reinforced in my psyche how powerfully seductive my bodily developments of puberty must be to men. Reading through the Bible for the first time in the eighth grade, I observed, underlined, and pondered the various verses that addressed women’s “modesty.” Internalizing these messages deeply, I strove to wear appropriate, “modest” clothing that did not display any part of my figure. I labored over finding dresses long enough for my tall stature; I bought t-shirts two sizes too large so they would be long enough to cover the back of my leggings. 

    

    Needless to say, by the time I reached college, I exasperatedly rejected the messaging of the books from my teen years as being far too oppressive for the modern woman. By this point, I felt like my womanhood had been rendered completely invisible behind clothes that hid my figure; I was desperate to be perceived as feminine, and I longed to feel beautiful. Born and raised in the American South, I did what any reasonable Southern girl would do in my predicament: I decided to compete in a beauty pageant. Strutting on a stage in a bikini, long gowns, and six-inch heels, I won the Miss Mississippi State University pageant and later placed fifth-runner up at Miss Mississippi twice. Eager to continue to bolster my self-esteem, I posted pictures on the internet that showed off the flattering angles of my physique. I dressed in ways that complimented my curves, hoping the young men that I dated would find me striking. As one might expect, to my shame, I fell into patterns of temptation and sin, anticipating that the gratification of flirting with the power of sexual desire would cure my deep yearning to feel physically attractive.

    My sins, combined with a devastating break-up and a suicide attempt, thoroughly placed me at my absolute rock bottom spiritually. Sitting on my bedroom floor on more than one occasion, I wept for God to rescue me from my iniquity and help me pursue a life of purity and righteousness. In His mercy, He answered my prayers tenfold; I began to experience immense spiritual revival. Sitting under the mentorship of several wise, caring pastors, I began seriously reading theology for the first time in my life. Greatly invigorated by this vital spiritual nourishment, my devotional prayers and deep desire to study and apply God’s Word returned with a vigor I had not experienced since I was in high school. My pastors helped me discern my call into vocational music ministry, and encouraged me to pursue a seminary education to continue in my growing understanding of scripture and theology.

    Unsurprisingly, my entry into seminary also instigated my interest into the thoughts and attitudes surrounding the role of women within the Christian faith. I began a Twitter account to post my thoughts about church culture and my seminary experience, where I received a number of interesting (read: incredibly hateful) comments about me being an unmarried woman pursuing a seminary education. I also began to engage with patriarchal, complementarian, and egalitarian scholarship. Reading a wide variety of sources, from the early church fathers to modern Biblical scholarship, I seriously and prayerfully considered the various verses in Scripture that specifically address the role of women in the church, including 1 Timothy 2:9-15, 1 Corinthians 11:2–16, 1 Corinthians 14:34–35, 1 Peter 3:1-6, Ephesians 5:22-33, and Titus 2:3-5. I soon realized how difficult of a challenge these verses were for me to wrestle through and exegete, but I remained deeply convicted of maintaining the inerrancy of the Word of God and its sufficiency for all instruction and living. 

    1 Timothy 2:9-10 instructs women to “…dress modestly, with decency and self-control, adorning themselves, not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God.” In a similar fashion, 1 Peter 3:3-4 states, “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” Certainly, as has been observed by many scholars, these verses primarily refer to “modesty” in the context of not parading around one’s wealth through attire in a corporate worship service. Personally, I laugh thinking about the ways I disregarded the instructions of these passages in nearly every regard by competing in pageants; I certainly was involved in the flaunting of large jewelry, extravagant hairstyles, and costly, luxurious gowns. I have also joined the temptation of many women, who, in attempting to wear our “Sunday best” to church, inadvertently flaunted wealth, beauty, and attempted to garner attention through my dresses. However, we ought not to ignore how “decency” (κόσμιος) and “self-control” (σωφροσύνη) also imply that women ought to have the sense to dress appropriately and with thoughtfulness for the various occasions of one’s life. These verses about women’s modesty also convey that what one wears functions as an outward demonstration of our inward sanctification. As we grow inwardly in purity, humility, and the pursuit of good works, so should our apparel reflect the same qualities. Thus, dressing without aiming to gain attention for myself - or for my body - allows the qualities of this “inner-self” to be apparent to others. This is not to say that women can’t have originality and style in what we wear, but a tendency towards seeking attention in our dress ought to be avoided, and a gentle humility be fully embraced. 

    A neglected, but significant, issue regarding women’s modesty that I have also judiciously considered is the instruction for women to wear a headcovering in worship, found at length in 1 Corinthians 11:2-16. Puzzled by the apparent laxity towards this passage by Biblical inerrantists and complementarians who argue that 1 Timothy 2:12 (“I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet.”) still applies in Christian churches throughout all times and cultures, I engaged with a variety of sources regarding this passage. Though a notoriously difficult passage to exegete in full, in my research I was shocked to discover that the practice of Christian headcovering in corporate worship was a nearly universal practice until well into the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and remains widely practiced in many areas of the world today, including in Greek Orthodox, Russian Orthodox, Latin Catholic, Middle Eastern, and Indian churches. In the Roman Catholic church, headcovering for women was mandated by The Synod of Rome in 743, and was unanimously held until as recently as the 1983 Code of Canon Law. As a Southerner, I grew up in churches where, until the recent past, all the ladies would wear their “church hats;” this custom directly derives from this passage and the historical practice of Christian headcovering. 

    

    Furthermore, some of the earliest written Christian sources outside of Scripture address the universality of Christian head-covering. Church theologians as early as Hippolytus of Rome (170–236), Clement of Alexandria (150-215) and Origen of Alexandria (184-253) affirm the practice of veiling as normative in Christian churches outside of Corinth. In his treatise On the Veiling of Virgins, Tertullian (155-220) argues that the witness of the Apostle Paul demonstrates beyond mere custom or culture that all women, including unmarried virgins, should cover during worship. Later theologians, such as Augustine, Jerome, and Aquinas, all the way to Protestant Reformers John Calvin, Martin Luther, John Knox, and John Wesley all continue to affirm the practice of headcovering in their writings, and demonstrate its normative practice in the Christian church.

It is simply historically indefensible to argue that Scripture’s instruction for women to cover their heads in worship was interpreted by the church catholic and its major theologians prior to the modern era to be a mere cultural practice intended for the city of Corinth.

Of course, this also may be understood from the witness of scripture itself; 1 Cor. 11:16 states, “If anyone is inclined to be contentious, we have no other practice, nor do the churches of God.” Paul’s reference to “the churches of God” indicates that he understands this practice to pertain to more than simply the church at Corinth.

    Given the clear command of scripture, combined with the historical witness of the practice in the Christian Church, I decided to undertake the practice headcovering myself. There is certainly an element of physical modesty to the practice, as you are covering parts of your head and hair. However, what I find most meaningful about the practice is what I believe to be the point of the passage: to cover symbolizes my obedience. As I am not married, my headcoverings symbolize my submission to God while I am in seminary and in all areas of my life. I started the practice in public slowly, simply wearing thick headbands, baseball hats, and bandanas, and eventually added in scarves and other coverings. It was certainly not a completely seamless transition; I would often clumsily fumble trying to tie them around my head, and the silk scarves would often slip off my head until I learned how to secure them better. On rare occasions, I eventually began to wear full veils, which undoubtedly garners some curious looks. 

    My practice of headcovering has become one of the most special and dear spiritual practices that have ever adopted. My headcoverings are visible, daily reminders of what I am doing and who I am serving; they are observable symbols of my submission to God which I – and others - cannot ignore. Indeed, in Western culture, many religious headcoverings today are distinctly recognizable to the casual observer. For example, if one sees a woman wearing a “hijab” style covering, it is often implicitly assumed that she is a practicing follower of Islam. The same might be said for the habit of a Catholic nun, the bonnet of an Amish woman, or the tichel scarf of a Jewish woman. These headcovering styles are markedly distinguishable, symbolizing religiosity, conviction, and, yes, modesty. In Western countries, where Muslim or Jewish women in particular face discrimination and violence because of their veils, their headcoverings and practicing of modesty are bold, public symbols of their personal obedience to the commands of their God and their commitment to their faith. Though I am in no way advocating for a homogenous “uniform” of sorts that all Christian women should wear, I do not wish to understate the highly discernable nature of the apparel worn by women of faith in our society. 

As the Christian religion declines in the West, and our society becomes increasingly secularized, might Christian women act as witnesses of our faith in a similar way as women of other faiths through our fashion? Beyond merely functioning as a deterrent for male sexual temptation, is there a role for modest apparel that may act as public, visual confessions of our faith and our convictions? 

My own practice of headcovering and dressing modestly has certainly proven these questions in the affirmative. My conscious choice of apparel has spurred very intriguing, interesting conversations about religion and the gospel among both strangers and my fellow Christian believers. Rather than modesty being a sign of shame to hide my body, I view modesty as a powerful testimony of my faith. Through practicing modesty, I am denying myself and my selfish desires, I am denying men the capability to objectify my body, and, most importantly, I am able to be a witness to others for the love and reverence I have for my God.