Modesty and Reverence in the Presence of the Lord
By Rev. Alexander Diaz
Imagine for a moment that you are invited to a private audience with the Pope or to a dinner with a head of state. How would you dress? Surely with your best attire, paying attention to every detail, because you know that the place and the occasion deserve it. So then, why is it that when we attend Holy Mass, we don’t give the same importance to this encounter with God Himself? Today it’s common to see parishioners dressed as if going to the beach or to a football game, showing up with no sense of reverence. And if they are advised to dress more appropriately, they get upset and even threaten to leave the Church.
The Catholic Church, in her wisdom and millennia-old tradition, teaches us that the Eucharist is not simply a social gathering or a symbolic act, but the living re-presentation of Christ’s Sacrifice. Participating in it is a profound encounter with the sacred. Therefore, the way we present ourselves—both inwardly and outwardly—should reflect the respect, reverence, and dignity due to such a mystery.
The way we present ourselves before the altar of God says much about our understanding of the Eucharist. It’s not about social etiquette or superficial judgments, but about the visible manifestation of an interior attitude: that of a soul aware that it is standing on holy ground (cf. Ex 3:5). Christian modesty is born of this living awareness of the sacred, and it is an act of love that offers the Lord the best, even in the small things.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “modesty protects the mystery of persons and their love. It encourages patience and moderation in loving relationships; it requires that the conditions for chastity be fulfilled” (CCC 2522). But it also adds something essential: “Modesty inspires one’s choice of clothing. It keeps silence or reserve where there is evident risk of unhealthy curiosity. It is discreet” (CCC 2522). In other words, modesty is not simply about covering the body, but about clothing the soul with respect, humility, and discretion in a loud and provocative world.
When we enter the church, we are not entering an ordinary place. We are stepping into the space where the redeeming sacrifice of Calvary is made present. The altar is the very Golgotha, and the priest acts in persona Christi. That is why externals must never be treated with indifference. The Church has insisted, since the earliest centuries, on the importance of recollection and decorum. Saint Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, already warned: “Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Cor 3:16). That temple is our body, but also the gathered community, which becomes the Mystical Body of Christ.
To present ourselves with modesty and reverence is not legalism or moralism. It is a concrete expression of love and faith. It’s not about dressing luxuriously or following a rigid code, but about recognizing the essential difference between attending a social gathering and participating in the Holy Sacrifice. Reverence, then, becomes a total attitude: it is present in our inner silence, in the recollection of our heart, in the way we walk, kneel, receive Communion… and also in how we dress.
Arrive on time—or better yet, a little early—to prepare in silence and recollection to receive Our Lord. If you arrive after Mass has started, wait for an appropriate moment in the liturgy (such as after the Responsorial Psalm or the Alleluia) before finding a seat, preferably using a side aisle. This small gesture is also a way to respect the prayer of others and avoid distracting from what the Spirit is doing at that moment. Turn off or silence all phones or electronic devices so as not to interrupt the solemnity of the Mass. Exterior silence helps foster the interior silence where God speaks to the soul.
Before and after Mass, be aware of and respectful toward the Blessed Sacrament reserved in the Tabernacle, as well as the people who are praying. Wait until you are outside the church to socialize. Let us not turn the House of God into a place of chatter, but a space of adoration. When we present ourselves at the altar with humility and dignity, we do so not out of obligation, but because our hearts have understood the greatness of the One who awaits us. “The Lord is in His holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before Him!” (Hab 2:20). This is the attitude that should inspire everything in the liturgy: grateful awe, worshipful silence, total surrender.
It is painful to see that, in many places, this sense of the sacred has been lost. The church has been reduced, in practice, to just another hall. People talk, enter without attention, dress without decorum. And this is not a matter of culture or climate, but of conscience. When someone loves, they seek to please. When someone believes, they act accordingly. When someone adores, they kneel—inside and out.
Respect and modesty at Holy Mass should not arise from fear or imposition, but from love. It is love that teaches us to keep silence, to dress modestly, to avoid distractions and superficiality. It is love that makes us want Christ to be the center, and nothing we are, wear, or do to steal His spotlight. The Eucharist is not meant to be watched, but lived, adored, embraced.
Saint John Mary Vianney said: “If we truly understood the Mass, we would die of love.” And how could we not desire that even the way we dress becomes a silent proclamation of that love? It is not about looking at others and judging them, but about looking at Christ and offering ourselves completely. It is about rediscovering that going to Mass is a privilege, not a routine; a grace, not a burden.
Dressing modestly, behaving reverently, participating with recollection: all these are part of a single attitude of the soul, which knows it is loved and responds with love. It is time to recover the sense of the sacred—of that which is not improvised nor trivialized. Because the Lord, hidden in the humility of bread, deserves the best of us. And that begins in the visible, so as to penetrate the invisible.
