Collared: Embracing Resistance
I nearly choked on the words as they came out of my mouth:
“I’ve been thinking lately about progressive ministerial identity and presence, and that maybe I should start wearing a clergy collar more regularly—in everyday ministry.”
Inside my brain screamed at me, “WHY DID YOU JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD!?! AND TO YOUR SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR OF ALL PEOPLE!” As soon as I said it, an excited smile swept across her face, and I knew I was in for it. I had spoken something into being before I was fully ready. This is how wearing a clergy collar and “Progress” Pride lapel pin became my Lenten spiritual practice. Coming from the congregationalist branch of the United Church of Christ, clergy collars are not part of our regular dress or vestments. Collars are generally reserved for chaplains, navigating hospital visits, or public witness at protests, legislative sessions, and justice-centered public events (see photo evidence). My choice to wear a collar for Lent is a counter-cultural, intentional spiritual practice for my formation as a minister in the Wider Church and World. Particularly as I am not pastor to one congregation, but in ministry with multiple, changing congregations and communities. As a result, my ministerial identity and role is adaptive—constantly modulating to different contexts. This means that I can more easily blend in to my everyday surroundings, almost like a comical progressive clergy “super power,” that is actually not so super if you want to be missional. I’m curious to see what it is like to be identified publicly as a progressive clergy person during my regular work days where most of my meetings are in coffee shops. This curiosity is both about my ability to be consistently spiritually present in public, and about what I perceive as the need for progressive Christian public presence in our society as an opportunity for healing and a necessary countermeasure to the harmful and overwhelming conservative, evangelical Christian presence.That appointment with my spiritual director was at the end of January. I spent a couple of weeks mulling it over, contemplating ways I might “authentically” take back those words that had escaped.My next step was posting an inquiry on facebook asking to talk with womxn clergy who wear a collar regularly—a suggestion from my spiritual director. The initial idea was to learn about the experiences of my colleagues to help me warm up to the practice. Ultimately, I knew I could commit to wearing a collar at least for Lent. So the outreach shifted to focus on broadening the conversation. I am inviting my colleagues to share their voices in this blog series, along with my ongoing reflections on this Lenten clergy collar spiritual practice.For those who may be less familiar with the term “womxn,” the “x” symbolizes intersectionality in gender identity. Thi intersection intentionally includes non-cisgender, transgender, and non-binary individuals. Intersectional feminism also intentionally includes Black and brown womxn, who historically were not included in the white-dominant feminist movement. Full inclusion and understanding of the different experiences among the intersections of our diverse identities remains a justice issue today.I also spent some time Googling to try to prepare myself. I was surprised that there wasn’t much in the way of reflective writing about womxn experiences of wearing a clergy collar, because over the years I have heard various stories from colleagues that are worthy of sharing. It seems valuable for us to share these experiences more publicly for ourselves, for womxn colleagues who are preparing for ordination, and for a wider audience that needs to know what it means to be a womxn in a collar. Of course I could have just put on a collar and gone about my ministry the day after my appointment with the spiritual director. Not make it a big deal, no need for preparation, just do it. Honestly, I just didn’t want to wear a collar regularly. Part of me likes to blend in. Part of me really appreciates not having to be fully present to those around me all the time—it’s exhausting.
Embracing Resistance to the Spirit
I clearly needed to better understand why I was experiencing such strong internal resistance to the simple practice of regularly wearing a clergy collar. After deeper reflection, I was not at all pleased with what I uncovered. So much so that I confessed it during our Ash Wednesday service, knowing I needed to release it:
I was afraid to wear the collar as a regular practice, because I knew the practice had the power to transform me, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be transformed.
That is a big, bold, buried fear for someone with the fancy title of “Minister of Prophetic Formation.”With this revelation, I came to terms with my hypocritical, embarrassing, and deeply human fear of too much change, too fast. And oh by the way, did I really want to follow Jesus and be led by the Holy Spirit fully? Sound familiar? Surely I am not the only one.I've spent the last 15 months putting Juniper Formation into action, and it has been an amazing experience of flowing with the Spirit. So why not continue that flow?Because my body still remembers another time. Just before starting Juniper Formation within the span of four years: I got married. A few months later during our honeymoon I realized something was deeply wrong with my lower back, and was sent for an MRI when we arrived home. I barely made it through the next five months of that academic year. I was unable to walk or stand for more than 5-10 minutes at a time due to chronic sciatica from a herniated disc.The night before I went into spinal surgery I received a promotion to a department head and professor position in ministry formation—a job that I loved. Just two months into recovery from surgery, I had to have a second, unexpected spinal surgery, which was only a few weeks before the school year started. The following month we bought a house, not knowing that it would eventually take us two years to gut and completely rebuild ourselves. That academic year after my surgeries was one of the worst years in my professional life. I was struggling through physical recovery while an unprecedented number of crises in internship sites occurred demanding my care and attention. Many of these crises were connected to the overall fear, stress, and unhealthiness within the Church. I witnessed how this played out within various denominations and contexts, and accompanied interns, pastors, lay leaders, and denominational leaders through the messiness and pain.In the midst of this physical and professional pain, I had a Call experience. Later that year, I entered the ordination process because I felt Called to the work I was doing in ministry formation. In the long-run the Call to ministry formation was accurate, but at the time I understood it too narrowly as constrained to that position. Two years later I lost my job, ending a 12-year career in higher education right at the tail end of my ordination process.So there I was, jobless, feeling Call-less, nearing the final steps of ordination, and wondering what in the world I was meant to do. A giant fog bank rolled into my mental field of view, and I had no choice other than to walk forward in faith, into what appeared to be nothingness.I knew I needed to be fully present for the transformation that had begun, or I might miss it. At this point, I knew I couldn’t handle the Spirit’s “course corrections” any longer. So I did something that I previously never would have dreamed was possible. I took time for myself and made a commitment to heal and discern. I calculated our savings and expenses and knew the date on which I needed to start worrying. I trusted the Spirit would intervene before then, and that is what the Spirit did.I entered the deepest, most intense discernment period of my life. Time slowed down, and it seemed like it would never end. I began discernment alone in prayer to quiet my heart and mind from my own unsteady voice and the voices of those who cared deeply for me, but who were also struggling with what I had gone through and with the best of intentions just wanted me to be okay, not understanding that I still had an important journey ahead of me. There were many days where I plopped down under the warmth of the sun in our backyard to pluck river rocks out of the clay. I'd rub the smooth rocks between my gloved hands to clean them, and then drop them into a bucket. It was a repetitive, meditative practice that served a function—to help with a landscaping project, and offered a minor sense of accomplishment when my world had come to a screeching halt. It also gave my body something to do, so that my mind could be free.After a month or so of being alone with God, I started to meet with trustworthy people who knew me well for relational discernment. And it was during these one-to-one conversations that the nascent idea for Juniper Formation came into being. It came as a culmination of where my heart, spirit, mind, and body connect, building on all that I have been through, learned, and accomplished. It was an answer to a prayer—a way to engage the gaps I saw and experienced within the wider Church system throughout my life as it relates to living out the Gospel, reimagining ministry, and supporting new ministry formation in the progressive Church.Nine months after I entered this intense discernment period, I was ordained as Minister of Prophetic Formation at Sixth Avenue UCC, for the purpose of starting the Juniper Formation ministry.
Collared
You see, there is good reason for part of my being to say, “Hold on, no more transformation. Let’s just take it slow for a bit. Let’s get comfortable and just stay put.” The same is true of our churches, many of them are going through or have been through painful seasons together as a faith community and in the individual lives within the congregation.Ultimately, staying put is not really who I am or who I am Called to be—nor is it who the Church is Called to be. As I have been learning intimately the last two years, it is most wise to just follow the Holy Spirit, and not resist. I know this same sentiment is in the scriptures, and now I know it in my bones. No matter how unwelcome the transformation of the Spirit is, how fast the Spirit moves, or how unexpected the path; just follow. Because there is healing within transformation, and we could all use more healing in our lives.I’ve also been learning to embrace my resistance; to open my arms wide to let resistance in close. I invite resistance to share its hurts and fears. Then I let resistance know that I understand, that it will be okay, and that the Spirit of God will prepare us for what is ahead. And then I let it go. I release my resistance so that we can both be free. In the same way, our churches also need to be free. On the eve of Ash Wednesday, I put on my collar, and prayed to God, “I am ready to be transformed.”I understand Spirit-led transformation personally—the pain of embracing our resistance and the deep joy of following the Spirit. My life’s journey has always been intimately interwoven with the Church, but until the last few years, I thought I was in charge of that journey. Now, I let the Spirit lead.Throughout Lent, I will be blogging in this series titled, “Collared”—caught and held by the Holy Spirit. I will reflect on what it means to be spiritually present through the experience of the everyday spiritual practice of wearing a clergy collar and “Progress” Pride lapel pin in public and church spaces. We are all Called to embrace our resistance and continue to find a new way forward with the Spirit. I hope you will join me on this journey. If you would like to contribute to this series, please contact me at jwhitcher@juniperformation.org.
This post is part of a blog series titled “Collared”—caught and held by the Holy Spirit. As a Lenten spiritual practice, Juniper Formation founder and Minister of Prophetic Formation Rev. Dr. Jenny Whitcher is wearing a clergy collar and “Progress” Pride lapel pin every work day throughout Lent, and blogging about the experience. In her congregationalist United Church of Christ tradition, clergy do not generally wear collars except to protests, to visit hospitals, or if they serve as chaplains. This practice is both for her own spiritual formation as a minister in the Wider Church and world, and an opportunity to experiment with progressive evangelism and explore what it is like to embody progressive Christianity in public spaces. One type of embodiment is being a female clergy person in a collar, wearing a “Progress” pride pin. For all posts in this series visit Juniper Formation’s Inspirations blog, or subscribe to Juniper Formation’s blog posts and newsletter.