Zechariah 3:1-10
“The angel said to those who were standing before him, ‘Take off his filthy clothes.’ And to him he said, ‘See, I have taken your guilt away from you, and I will clothe you with festal apparel.’” (Zechariah 3:4)

The “ugly Christmas sweater” has become a sort of staple in modern society. Some folks even throw Christmas parties with this as the theme where the “winner” with the ugliest Christmas sweater gets some sort of prize. (Think: Rudolph with a flashing red nose serving as the star of Bethlehem over the nativity of Christ, which is full of all of today’s most popular gifts. That seems gaudy – if not heretical – enough to win!). Naturally, I love a good ugly Christmas sweater, because donning it requires embracing a certain amount of humility and self-effacing humor – and those are virtuous traits. I also like it because it involves making an intentional decision to wear clothes that help match – or even create – a certain mood. Amongst friends, it feels good to be silly in such a safe context.

I thought about the ugly Christmas sweater as I read Zechariah’s prophecy about the high priest, Joshua. In this scene, the mood is far from festive (though we will get there!), as Joshua stands in dirty rags, a reflection of his broken, sinful nature. Satan is even there to mock what he’s wearing (as if Satan didn’t have a hand in picking out that apparel!). But then something shocking, loving, and grace-filled happens: Joshua is given new clothes. He is stripped of his sin and clothed in “festal apparel.” (While it is unlikely that this included an ugly Christmas sweater, I don’t think it is unreasonable to hope that this is the case). He is taken from a sinner and transformed to a saint, one who is in a procession meant to glorify and worship God. He’s wearing his “Sunday best” (or, since this is an Old Testament text, his shabbat best).

Clearly, this passage is a metaphor for how God saves and redeems. However, I think something else is supposed to be happening here. I think the recipients of this prophecy – those who read it, including you and me – are meant to imagine ourselves being stripped of our sin and clothed in a glory that is not our own. We are meant to have our imaginations enlivened, to see ourselves (and others!) in a new way. So often – too often – it is easy to only see the brokenness in one another. None of us are particularly good at hiding our sins, and all the less so the more intimate we grow with one another. And so, it is important that we also train our eyes to see ourselves and others not in terms of our dirty rags, but as those who – by grace – are clothed in “festal apparel.”

In fact, give that a try this week. Look at yourself in the mirror and imagine yourself clothed richly, lushly, beautifully. Imagine yourself as God sees you when you’re filled by His grace and love. Indeed, if your gaze should falter and you think you see yourself only as wearing the same grubby sweatpants you wore the day before, remind yourself that the mirror you’re looking in must be one of those funhouse mirrors from the carnival, because you know that your God has clothed you better than that. And then, as you get better at seeing yourself in such a redemptive light, try to see others in the same way.

Ultimately, that’s the true joy of the ugly Christmas sweater. It takes that which should not be known as beautiful and trains us to see it – through the lens of joy and fellowship – as beautiful. As it is for the ugly Christmas sweater, Lord, so let it be for all of life. Amen.