So, yeah, that title is pretty clever, huh? I mean, I'm reading this thinking, like, what does all this have to do with Sunday clothes? and then, bang! right there at the end - there it is again! It's foreshadowing. A circular structure, even.
Or like saying, "Have you heard the one about the nun who says 'Well I'm really the bus driver!'" Somehow, despite that the bulk of this poem has almost nothing to do with the punch-line, I still saw it coming like a freight train, which is not good for poetry. Not to mention that ignoring an irrational traditional conception of Jehovah on His holy day is already handled much better in poems like this one here(
http://www.bartleby.com/265/355.html) and here (
http://eir.library.utoronto.ca/rpo/display/poem784.html - extra points to Eliot for using 'brown' as a verb!)
Do you want more?