A few notes on the collar experiment:
- My colleagues have noted that if you don't actually wear a black shirt with a Roman tab collar, it doesn't have the same impact. All my other other colored shirts and the Episcopal-type collars don't seem to catch the eye as much.
- When I came home last week wearing said black, Katie said, "Mommy, you look scary." Now, I know she's seen me in such garb on Sundays many a time, but somehow the context of a weekday changed it for her.
- Now that the weather is turning warmer, I have less "cover" of sweaters and scarves and jackets. I feel more exposed now, and I suppose that's a good thing, what a lenten discipline ought to do.
I think the bottom line for me is that while I am perfectly at home in the pulpit and at the altar, there's something about wearing the collar outside the context of worship that still feels odd. It heightens my awareness that I am a woman in a profession that still views women as the exception. It heightens my sense that as a pastor I am a symbol -- good and bad -- of all that the institution of church might mean to someone. For some, like a small group of parents at our church, the associations are mostly good. For others, I know, there is lots of baggage with this flash of white at my neck. I've been ordained for 10 years, but I still struggle at times with the reality of this odd vocation and the competing commitments it creates for me.
