At church today, a friend walks up and says, "I was thinking about you the other day. How you wear jeans to church and all. I'd like to do that, but I wouldn't want to rock any boats." I think to myself, "Well, then. I guess people notice," and my husband, Greg, standing there, chimes in, "The boat needs to be rocked."

I wear jeans to a very dressy church. In a congregation where the median level of education is master's plus three (I fall short of this), where there are more than twenty-five retired ministers, where most people over the age of 22 dress to the nines each Sunday, I feel called to wear Levi's. When I teach, I dress up because I have to. At church, before God and my brothers and sisters in humanity, I'm going to be myself. Just how important is the level of decorum maintained in a church? And how welcomed will newcomers feel if they fall short of the unstated dress code?

So my friend and Greg and I chat a moment longer. I invite her to join me in my little ministry. I look over at Greg and notice that he's wearing jeans today, too. I think it's going to be a movement.