Coping with the Collar
Yep, the whole clergy collar thing is a pain. I’ve tried to be optimistic about it, but I really find them quite annoying. Unlike another Adam, I never really looked forward to wearing a collar. Maybe it’d be different if I didn’t have to wear one every single day. But, at my church at least, a clergy collar is required: every day.
So as far as I can tell, there’s at least two sides of the clergy collar debate. Here’s one: wearing a clergy collar (more affectionately known as a “dog collar” here) marks one as a minister in the church, as one who has undergone certain theological training and is called to a particular form of ministry. A collar shows a minister as being a clear representative of the church, employed for a certain type of service. So, the logic goes, a stranger might approach a minister in collar with theological questions or for help through personal turmoil.
Muriel Armstrong makes the case for collars in her “The Last Word” column in July’s issue of the Church of Scotland magazine Life and Work.
Why are so many ministers today afraid to wear a dog collar except at funerals (and that is not always the case)? Are they afraid someone might come up to them in the street and ask them a theological question? I know of an old lady whose new minister arrived on her doorstep for a pastoral visit. He was wearing jeans and trainers and, in her eyes, didn’t look like a minister, so with a ‘not today thank you,’ shut the door firmly in his face.
Armstrong then recalls the “good ole days” when collars went so far as to communicate doctrine–deep collars for conservative theology, narrow for liberal.
In support of Armstrong, I have had at least one significant pastoral conversation that I doubt would have taken place had I not been wearing a collar. On the way back from making visits at the hospital, I stopped in a secondhand shop to buy something for the manse. The owner (who turned out to be a non-practicing Catholic from Northern Ireland) saw my collar and, over the next 45 minutes, shared his life story and current struggles with alcohol and relationship with his wife. That holy conversation would not have happened if I stopped in the shop wearing a suit and tie. The collar led to a valuable opportunity for ministry.
On the other hand, the Rev. Michael S. Goss responds to Armstrong’s article in the September issue of Life and Work. Goss writes:
Quite apart from the delight I would have in being sought out [for theological questioning on the street], the collar is a barrier, not an open door to many. I well remember a senior member of the clergy recounting his use of the collar on board trains as a way of ensuring peace and quiet–nobody would speak to him while wearing it.
Later, Goss writes responding to ministers being required to wear the correct “uniform.”
My children are taught by excellent professionals who never wear the gowns I saw on some of my own teachers’ backs. My GPs are never in uniform, and I trust them. The people who sit in [the government] running the country (for good for ill) don’t wear a uniform. Why should we?
I’ve also had several experiences already to support Goss’s position. I’ve been heckled by youth several times, some of whom thought it’d be fun to see my reaction to curse words. Also, a coffee shop experience is detailed in my sermon found elsewhere on this site.
Overall, I think I agree with Goss. On the average, collars function more as barrier than invitation. Goss writes, “In the end, clergy uniform does communicate–and that’s the problem. It says, ‘We are the professional Christians, not like the rest of you.’” And perhaps that’s where my deepest concern lies. As an American living in a foreign country for a year, I’m already all too aware that I’m not entirely, “like the rest of you.” For me this year the collar only intensifies this feeling.
But there’s also a deeper issue at stake here, and it’s one that is brought up only by the Scottish context. At home, one generally assumes when meeting somebody new that they, statistically speaking at least, are likely Christian. Here, one can not assume that an average person on the street is Christian, has ever attended church, or has any positive associations with the gospel.
Sure, as one church member told me bluntly, “A collar demands respect.” But that’s only to church members and I’m not overly concerned–or even interested–in having instant respect due to my neckwear. Instead, I’m more concerned about what the church is communicating by insisting on collars. Is it saying, “Our ministers deserve respect” or “Our ministers are open to all?” Is it saying, “Our ministers’ attire is more in accordance with the gospel” or “Our minister’s attire is steeped in tradition that no longer communicates in this culture?” And is it ultimately saying, “We insist that our ministers wear collars, not because they necessarily communicate the gospel, but because that’s what ministers always used to wear.”
(Sorry for the long post. One last note: a cool thing about my blue shirt, though, is the french cuffs. Love them.)
Connect Online
nice post. I don’t think I would be very comfortable wearing a collar; and I’m a little afraid if I did like it it would be for power issue reasons. On the other hand, I do think it is helpful for ministers to be easily identifiable (and approachable) to those who are not in the church.
As a side note: I thought your cuff links were American flags for a minute and I was concerned for you a little.
Oh. AND. I like your new blog (both look and content, though I liked the content on the last one as well, so …)
I thought those were American flag cufflinks as well. whoa.
There was an article on bbc.com a few weeks ago about how English pastors are being told NOT to wear their dog collars because of violence against clergy.
Sorry to add that thought to your head, but wonder if Scotland is having similar experiences.
Dude, I don’t remember saying that I wanted to wear one – but it’s very possible.
Great post Adam. Of course, I’m going to agree with you here – sure, in a predominantly Christian context and culture – a collar might make sense (though it still feels like hierarchy and professionalism) – but I mean, in your post-Christendom context – I don’t think it really is very helpful. I’m glad it’s you and not me though
You probably pull it off better.
Just a quick look on blogs, and thought you should check these folks’ thoughts out. Maggi Dawn is an anglican priest and uber-blogger. She writes about clerical garb here and here. AKMA who is here in Princeton currently writes about it here. And finally, Karen Ward writes some about it here.
Happy reading.
The web doesn’t forget:
http://adamcopeland.vox.com/library/post/reflections-on-week-one.html#comment-6a00e398a2bd95000400e398adc8af0005
“I don’t know what to say about the collar – although for some reason, I’ve always wanted to wear one…”
Thanks for the links, Adam. I’ll check those out after supper.
For a female take on clergy garb, see
http://youngclergywomen.typepad.com/the_young_clergy_women_pr/2007/11/what-not-to-wea.html#continue.
I usually wear a collar when I robe up – or wear a white turtleneck (or other liturgically colored turtleneck sometimes!). Don’t have much occasion in current call to wear one, otherwise.
you are experiencing daily what David Forney’s final things and church/conflict class experienced when they had to wear collars for a couple of weeks in the greater ATL.
Enjoy your time – looks/sounds like you are doing so!
I come from an evangelical tradition that has no collars at all. I bought one for myself and have worn it occasionally. I suppose I would agree that a collar opens some doors and closes others. That would mean that there is a certain amount of helplessness that comes when wearing it. Will you find yourself in conversation with someone who was looking for a priest? Or will you miss a conversation with someone who was frightened or put off?
Only the Spirit knows.
I suppose no one ought to live in a collar or never wear one. There is a certain willingness to claim our calling as pastors and priests that is healthy. And a willingness to live in our world that is healthy too.
Keep struggling my brother. I like the sound of your journey.
Adam–
Thanks for sharing this. I think in some ways the collar is indeed a barrier–far too many people see Christians as being intimidating, unpleasant, or stupid. But conversely, seeing someone in a collar being him or herself–like your conversation in the store–could open someone to a new image of things.
Greg
Wow! Found your blog doing an ego-google, and discovering that the only thing I’ll be remembered for is a debate about clergy uniform. Depressing! Mind you, just back from Israel and the 16th EMMS Bike Ride for Nazareth Hospital, which seems eminently more memorable…
I suppose Muriel Armstrong’s article stung me because, after becoming steadily less ‘formal dress’ in my first charge with little comment, my current charge seems to have so many hung up on the little issue of a collar. Some people need to worry less about what we wear and more about how Jesus would have us all live.
Thanks for your blog – have you tried Gillette Fusion blades? only thing that gets the blue off my chin…
Thanks, Mike, for your good words. Where are you based these days (I had to give the “Life and Work” copy back so I can’t be reminded of your current charge.) It is strange how the internet works: I can hear several sermons from the states live each Sunday, but my church here doesn’t have a website. As they preach in seminary: context, context, context.
Yep, I’m not sure Jesus would care much about collars, or the latest fashions, or even my slick apple computer, but I guess that’s the struggle.
I’m currently shaving with razors left in the manse–probably not the best idea, but can’t beat the price.
Thanks for commenting and please do so anytime.
Ah, the collar. Personally, I like wearing a collar. For one, I don’t have to worry if I look appropriate for church. Or if I can find clothes that match at 5:30 in the morning, when our bedroom is dark and my husband is still sleeping since he doesn’t have to drive an hour to get to his church. And I think it’s a good thing that the folks around my church don’t get me confused for the kids in the youth group. Out in public, I tend to slip out the tab if I’m shopping… or leave it in for church business. That’s been a good thing- in the hospital people have asked me to come and pray with them, recognizing that I’m somehow connected to a church. It’s also led to some interesting conversation- as I’ve been told loudly that I must be a virgin by a passerby in the hospital. (I know I picked a modest wedding ring… but it is there…) Could the collar be a power trip thing? Sure, but so much about the office can be. Anyway, it sounds like this is a year for you to explore what it means to you to be a pastor- and visibly so! Besides, a pastor I know told me wearing a collar is a good way to get out of a traffic ticket!
Hi, I found your site whilst looking for clergy blogs… I have just started one of my own. Clergy collars… I regard mine as a tool. when I need to get a certain job done I need the right tools. There are times when I would feel very uncomfortable without my collar, depending on what I am doing, for example bereavement ministry, hospital visiting etc. On occasions such as these it is not a barrier, but it is a key that unlocks doors.
On other occasions it may not be necessary, but I think that approachability is not defined by things like collars but the openness of the wearer. Wear a scowl and people will find you inaccessible. be open and friendly people will find you accessible. This is the case whether a collar is worn or not. I personally wear mine almost all of the time apart from on my day off.
Hi Adam,
Hope your mom and dad are enjoying their visit. I think your mom even has a birthday while in Scotland.
I’d love to hear you and your dad debate the pros and cons of the clerical collar–but maybe you both totally agree.
Say hi to Megan.
Dave Custis
Change churches if you don’t like to wear the collar eery day. I am a penitentiary chaplain, I think it is an honor to wear attire that links us to our vocation in Christ. Though I agree being forced to wear one everyday is excessive, the collar communicates something that regular clothes do not. Many ministers run away from the professional side of ministry and that is okay, then do the work of the ministry for free. Paid clergy are professionals, well educated and dedicated to serve Jesus Christ, why should clergy be less respected as other vocations. I am actually dismayed at the lack of respect ministers get these days–I am called chappy, Mr. (my last name), called by my fist name when I don’t wear a collar. Many inmates ask me “who the hell are you the Warden?” I started wearing the collar for some respect. Does the collar earn me respect, no, my character does, but the collar is a visible reminder to staff and inmates of who I serve and represent. i think you took your church members comment out of context when he said “The collar demands respect.” It is not the collar itself, the collar is the symbol and embodiment of what it stands for, the man wearing that collar has answered the call to ministry, studied for it and is know serving Christ on behalf of mankind, that is what is to be respected, the collar symbolizes the calling and commitment, something lay people have not done, the man wearing the collar is called to the Word, Sacrament and Order.
Thanks for your great comments, John. Especially with the particularly context of a penitentiary.
I guess I’m not dismayed by the lack of respect ministers get these days because I don’t make any distinction between the call of a minister and, say, the call of a Christian to warden at the penitentiary. As you suggest, by “embodying” our call by wearing the collar, I think we undercut the call of other Christians to ministries just as important, but ones that do not call for a collar.
I’m committing my life, being education for the ministry, and certainly will have skills in a particularly type of Christian ministry of Word and Sacrament, but as I read Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians, it’s wrong to make any distinctions of merit when it comes to call.
Not that that’s what you’re doing; just what it might communicate. Peace.