That darn collar, revisited

I finished facilitating my last Bible Study series at St. Columba this week. The most recent series focused on Paul, and specifically his letter to the Galatians. I love that book–for both it’s simple/difficult message of freedom, unity, and Christ’s benefits.
One of the Galatians study activities was to speak of what it means today, that Paul writes, “There in no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all are one in Christ.”
I put “What does being one in Christ mean?” up on the board, played a song, and asked folks think for a few minutes, and then we had a discussion.
In the back of my mind during the discussion was this darn clergy collar question. I first took up the question back in November when I launched this wordpress blog. That post, “Coping with the Collar ” still gets a good number of google hits.
Over six months later, with a fair amount of reflection, I still have the same view that on the whole, I’d rather not wear a collar every day, since on the average, I think the collar closes as many doors as it opens. Here’s my most recent anti-ish collar thoughts.
First, I’m not a big fan of ordination–ok, CPM don’t freak out. What I mean is that I’m especially cognizant of how an overly high view of ordination conflicts with Paul’s description of the gifts of the body in Ephesians, or our oneness in Galatians. When we say “priesthood of all believers” but give ministers special benefits, undue respect by virtue of their office, and treat them with an especially friendly attitude that should be given to all our sisters and brothers, I get a bit nervous of what our actions communicate. Ordination does not mark a specialness above any other who is in Christ, and I get bothered when it’s treated as such.
So wearing a collar, which says to some “look at me, I’m a professional Christian unlike you” may send the wrong message. Rather than a servant’s uniform, the collar today can be seen as a uppity uniform. Worn with a nice suit, it communicates a certain air of authority and expectation of respect. I’m projecting hugely, of course, but this view is the one I discern, mostly from those outside of my congregation. Societally, the church is seen as a bit too sure of itself, a bit crusty perhaps, a bit set in its ways, and my perception is that the collar only affirms this negative set-apartness.
Second, and perhaps more important for me, is that a collar functions by putting up a visual clue that encourages prejudgment. When I wear a collar, I feel like my uniform is saying, “You may speak to me, but you may only do so realizing who I am.” A fake must-speak-kindly-as-I’m-speaking-to-the-minister develops.
Heck, one way to put it is to say a collar is un-American. Rather than being judged by the content of one’s character, one is judged by the ordination process of one’s denomination.
I want to be able to speak for myself. Sure, I’ll do so aware of my calling, but hopefully out of humility. I want to be judged as a clean slate. Sure, I know folks will judge me by my clothes, whatever they are, but I’d rather be judged on my basic polo or shirt and tie than a collar which says so much to so many that is out of my control.
I know there are many strong and positive reasons for wearing a clergy collar, as my previous post points out. But after months of daily wearing, I’m still not convinced of its value as an everyday must-wear uniform.
Blogging in a Flat World
Flat world.
I don’t have online access to the Oxford English Dictionary anymore so I can’t look up when the term first came into use, but NY Times columnist Thomas Friedman has certainly made it popular. Flat world.
The basic idea: recent changes in our economic structure, many brought on by technology, have made the world playing field flat. Friedman uses the term in economics, primarily, but it has come to describe how technology makes us all feel closer and affect each other more easily and clearly.

Here are three blog-related stories about my experience of the world’s flatness.
First, a post that’s received my second highest traffic, Coping with the (Clergy) Collar was found by the person whose letter I quoted in the post.
A few weeks after I quoted the Scottish minister, Michael S. Goss, I received an email from Rev. Goss himself. He had found himself through a search engine and was complimentary of my approach, but it was a little strange “speaking” personally to someone who before was only a name in a magazine. It served as a good reminder that everything we post online can be read by anyone, even and especially those about whom we write.
Second, a few months ago I was lazily reading through a random blog I’d found of a Presbyterian pastor from ____ . The post included criticism of what the pastor perceived to be lacking standards of PC(USA) (yes, I read those blogs too). Specifically, the pastor opined at the faith statements of candidates seeking ordination in her Presbytery, calling them not sufficiently orthodox, and going so far so to name what specific questions this pastor planned to ask the candidates at the Presbytery meeting.
A fan of the flat world, it took me a minute to find the Presbytery docket online and read the faith statements. It turned out that I had the contact info for one of the candidates who I promptly alerted as to the pastor’s planned antagonistic questions. Suffice it to say: the heads-up was greatly appreciated.
Third, I’ve happened upon several blogs of other American assistant ministers in Scotland, or other newish Scottish pastors.
- A Postcard from Troon Old, by a Princeton Seminary Assistant in Troon (20 mins away).
- Radical Seminarian, by another PTS Assistant in Cumnock (45 mins away).
- Rumors of Angels, by a Church of Scotland student in a similar situation nearby.
In the big picture of flat world experiences these are probably not particularly significant. After blogging for three months, however, I do see them as noteworthy; good reminders of the power for ministry that the web can provide. Flat world, indeed.
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?
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