Clerical Collars

This will seem a strange post, and yet something that I have for some reason given a lot of thought to over the last few weeks, following my visit to York Minster. As I said in an earlier post, because of the Synod meeting that weekend, at worship I found it virtually impossible to find a seat where there were not clergy folk sitting around me. How did I know they were clergy? Because of the wide variety of people who had their piece of plastic strapped to their neck in their beautifully crafted J & M shirt.

I should say that I am a wearer of a clerical shirt myself. I tend not to wear it while visiting, or daily tasks. But a freshly ironed and pressed shirt appears on a Sunday and for funerals. In the 13 years of performing the tasks of ministry, it has on occasion proved helpful, getting me through doors of houses where people didn't believe I was old enough to be a minister, or the right gender. It has given me some hilarious moments at petrol stations, as those who obviously didn't believe I was old enough or the right gender have stopped and stared, to be jabbed in the ribs by whoever was with them. (I thought that was what they were staring at - perhaps I was wrong and missed the strange alien object spattered across my face or clothes.)

However it has always struck me that the place not to wear it is when you are attending another church for worship. These are sacred moments when we as clergy get the opportunity to return to the congregation and be ministered to. An opportunity to encounter God's grace in the inspiring words of another.

Of course I realise that the Synod meeting is like the General Assembly, and the very best clerical collars are dragged out as people make a public declaration of a church at work - seeking God's Spirit in discussion and encounter with the world.