I was raised in a church that defined a part of a woman’s holiness based on whether or not she wore pantyhose.

My family would be on our way to church. Panic would strike my mother’s face.

“Virgil, I forgot to put pantyhose on. We have to turn around.”

Dad didn’t question Mom. He stopped, turned the car around, and Mom went back inside the house and put on pantyhose.

Why? Because Mom had forgotten to wear pantyhose to church a time or two. And it caused her to “feel” different.

She didn’t feel different because she thought God cared one little bit. And it wasn’t because she felt convicted or compelled to wear pantyhose. It was because she wanted to fit in. It was because she didn’t want the other women in the church talking about her. Looking at her funny. And judging how white her legs were below the knee.

At my church there was a group of women who NEVER forgot to wear pantyhose. These women could point to verses in scripture and declare that it was God’s ideal for women to wear pantyhose. Their pantyhose didn’t save them, and they knew that. But it made them feel a little closer to God. It made them feel like they were being obedient.

At least, that’s how it seemed.

My mother and three sisters would have rather stood in front of God himself than to stand bare-legged in front of a circle of pantyhose-wearing women.

And there was nothing wrong with pantyhose…

**Okay, maybe there is something wrong with pantyhose-so I’ve heard. I’ve never worn them. I know, I know… some of you are a little surprised by that. But I haven’t. 🙂 Yet I’ve heard they are like wearing the skin of Satan.***

But… there WAS nothing wrong with women wearing pantyhose to church. Nothing. And there was nothing wrong with women not wearing pantyhose to church.

However, at some point in our church’s culture–and this is going to sound dumb to some of you–“wearing pantyhose” became a status symbol. It revealed the “status” of a woman’s femininity. Her devotion to God. Her purity. Her desire to be used by God… etc. etc. etc…

These ideas weren’t spoken rules. They weren’t written down anywhere. But still, they existed. In our brains. In how we thought. And it wasn’t simply the women who thought these things. But also the men.

Once in a while, my father would be the one to notice my mother not wearing pantyhose. He didn’t really care. But he knew that she did. And so… he started caring a little bit too.

And the children started caring.

As a seventh grader, I wanted my mother to wear pantyhose because I didn’t want her to FEEL judged. Whether she was being judged or not didn’t matter. She felt judged. People told her she wasn’t being judged, but she never really believed them. Not when she wasn’t wearing pantyhose.

At our church, a person’s judgment was subtle. Usually it didn’t show up in words. It was found in silence. In what wasn’t said. It was sometimes the writing between the lines. It was a gesture. A glance. A twitch. A nostril flare.

And sometimes it didn’t exist at all.

But still, you felt it.

My mom felt it.

Maybe the women who never left home without putting pantyhose on felt it too.

When I was writing my post about John Piper’s thoughts on women working outside the home, I knew that it was a touchy subject. But I had no idea how touchy. I didn’t know that so much emotion and conviction and feeling and guilt and passion and judgment existed around this topic. I was just throwing out my opinion. And while some people applauded my opinion, some people felt belittled and judged by it. I’m not going to apologize for my opinion, but I do want to apologize for being naive to the nuances that exist around this deep sensitive topic.

What I learned is that the emotions people feel on either side of this issue are real. The convictions are real. The stories are real. The reasons that compel us to make decisions are real. The pain and judgment moms feel are real.

Is it possible to not allow issues like these to create division between us? Are we capable of having our opinions about things without allowing them to stir up judgment in our hearts toward each other? Can we live the words Apostle John wrote in the context of our disagreements?

Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.

I want to say yes. I want to believe it’s possible.

Despite our opinions.

Despite our parenting styles.

Despite our different theologies.

Despite whether or not you wear pantyhose.

Can we love one another? Writing and saying those words is simple. All of the action and drama and feelings in between are anything but simple.

Can we love one another?

I hope we try.