Clerical Collar or no Collar?

Reverend Francis RitchieMiscellanyLeave a Comment

I am a licensed Minister in the Wesleyan Methodist Church of New Zealand. Being licensed means that both myself and my denomination recognise and agree that my life has been directed towards service to the Church and in my case, the world around me and beyond. I am licensed in a missionary capacity and have been fortunate enough that I am part of a denomination that views what I do locally in that framework. As part of that I’ve been exploring the place of the clerical collar in my life.

Being licensed means that I am, in a sense, in training towards ordination – a cemented recognition of that ‘call.’ The period of being licensed is a chance to continue reflecting on and testing that call and to train.

I take ordination and the movement towards it very seriously. There is a tendency among some towards disdain of such a process as it is seen to work against the very egalitarian doctrine of the priesthood of all believers (something I firmly believe in) by establishing a ‘professional’ and ‘sacred’ class of Christian – a type of hierarchy where the clergy are seen as a power class and special and I have no doubt that some clergy view themselves in this privileged manner. This is not my view at all.

As stated, I firmly believe in the concept of the priesthood of all believers. The point of the priest in the Old Testament was to act as a mediator between God and the people – he would intercede on behalf of the people and offer sacrifices for them. In the New Testament this responsibility passes to all believers with Christ as our high priest and mediator. The role of interceding, offering sacrifices (in Romans 12:1 we are seen to be the living sacrifices), praying and demonstrating life in God for the world we are in. I also affirm the egalitarian approach of the Apostle Paul in the letter to the church in Galatia where he broke down the barriers of a class system with the famous words ‘There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.’ There is no class system of any sort within the Church and any tendency towards one should be pushed against.

Whilst the Church is, by nature, egalitarian, there are clearly some in the story of the early Church in the Bible who are designated to serve it. This is their function. Far from being a class above, they are beneath the Church acting as a source on which others may stand and draw from – they enable those who are part of the Church to fulfill their vocation in the world; they enable the priesthood of believers to be exactly what they are intended to be and they also, by living as slaves/servants, invite others into the Church – the community of God and body of Christ in the present. These people are servants/slaves to the Church and the world around them and they act in this manner by ultimately identifying, first and foremost, as slaves of Christ.

Paul reflects this view consistently in his own letters to the various churches and it is how he sees himself. He also identifies overseers, elders and deacons in this manner. When establishing these roles he is not creating a sacred, special class, he is establishing the servants/slaves who will enable the Church to be what is intended to be – people who exist solely for this purpose. They are not their own – they are Christ’s and their lives exist for the Church and for its role in the world.

It is into this role that I believe I step by identifying as a Minister and ultimately in ordination. It is in this tradition that my heroes exist – Dietrich Bonhoeffer, John Wesley, Oscar Romero and St Francis. They are people who poured out their lives to serve the Church, enable those within it to live out its purpose, and to realise its place in the world. It cost them dearly. Ordination then becomes a statement and recognition by the Church that I am a slave in the same tradition – owned by Christ for the enabling of the Church and the realisation of its purpose in the world through my own actions and the encouragement of those within the Church towards that purpose.

The Question of the Clerical Collar

From within this view comes my question about the clerical collar – to wear or not to wear? It is not usual for a Wesleyan Methodist Minister in New Zealand to wear the clerical collar that publicly identifies the Pastor in that role and I understand the arguments against it.

For some it is seen as a barrier stopping others from engaging the Minister as an equal. I have also read stories where those wearing the clerical collar have been abused because they have been easily identifiable and for the abuser it has had negative connotations that have sparked a reaction within them. For this reason, in some countries there are various churches that discourage their Ministers from wearing the clerical collar – for safety. Of course, the most concerning for me is that in the eyes of some it is seen as setting apart the Minister as something special and powerful.

Firstly, the safety issue. If I were out and about with my family in public I would not always wear the clerical collar as I have a responsibility to keep them safe (to a degree) and would not want them subjected to any abuse that may result in people identifying me as a Minister. Aside from that, safety for myself is not my chief concern and fear should not dictate how I represent my call. Indeed, if fear was a driver I would be betraying the tradition of those who I call my heroes – men who put their lives on the line for their convictions. As a servant of Christ I must take the bad as well as the good, I must deal with the complications of the role in the world in which I exist, not shy away from them. If people wish to abuse me because of a perception they hold, who am I to not show who I am to avoid that when the person I call my Master made himself completely open to people with all the good and the bad and was ultimately nailed to a cross.

On the issue of being seen as special, privileged, powerful or as something that acts as a barrier, I love this response from AKMA:

If it be granted that some clergy wear their clothes as a claim to privilege, my experience of wearing clericals differs. Often as not, my black clothes and funny collar make me a target for a variety of people’s off-kilter projections. I don’t expect anything different from people when I’m in black, but I wear my uniform since that’s part of a signifying system by which I’m marked as “available for help, spiritual counsel, listening to long explanations of why you don’t go to church any more,” and so on. If it’s a claim to privilege, these are privileges that don’t appeal much to me.

If there’s a special-treatment factor, it’s much less a matter of something I expect, but something with which people can surprise me. If my being a priest gives others an occasion to be kinder or more generous than they would otherwise be, I suppose that’s good for them. If they’re extra kind to me one day, it might contribute to their being extra kind to someone else another day. That sort of generosity can be habit-forming.

I resonate with AKMA’s sense of being ‘marked.’ In this case it is viewed as a mark of service. AKMA talks about it being a ‘signifying practice’ to put on the clerical collar. I see it as a signal for the person wearing it and for those the wearer encounters. Poor examples of the use of the symbol should not dictate the message it sends; in fact one could argue that there is a sense where those who are truly motivated by the servant nature of the role should make every effort to reclaim the symbol as one of service.

I want to be ‘available’ and I want others to know that I am. I want to serve and I want others to immediately know the nature of my life and what I exist for. Sure, that can be demonstrated through action and in relationship and I would most like to be identified through the life I live, but for those not familiar with me in such a way, I want to also immediately signify to them what my life is dedicated to. The clerical collar marks me as a slave of Christ, a servant to the Church and the world around me. Wearing it would remind me of that and let others know. I also prefer it over other clerical wear because personally it, in my case, evokes more humility within me because it is a little less overt and to use the more overt clerical wear would make it a fashion thing for me and destroy the whole intent. My own apprehension about wearing it, my concern about looking strange and ‘different’ cannot and should not deter me.