On Saturday, June 27, my day began at 3:30 a.m. as I made my way to the Milwaukee airport to fly to Seattle because my oldest friend invited me to preach at the worship service at which she was being installed as a new pastor. Flying to Seattle via Chicago meant there would be no time to change clothes before the worship service, so I wore my clerical collar through the airport, on the plane, and at lunch before finally getting to the worship service at 2 p.m.

I do not usually notice the stares, and sometimes glares, of people who see me approaching when I wear my collar. On this day, I traveled with a friend whose dad is a pastor. Several times, Jordan mentioned the stares pointed in my direction. I smiled as I remembered I was wearing my collar; after I put it on, I sometimes forget I’m wearing it. What was surprising to both Jordan and me was the deer-in-the-headlights look that so often confronts me when I travel in my collar. I imagine people have three main reactions: one offers respect and often a smile or head nod; a second is one of disdain (usually because of an experience with the Church where the person was mistreated, judged, or ignored); and the third reaction, which is the most fascinating because it speaks to our world as it is today, is one of complete and utter helplessness. As if some far off memory reminds them that they might know the collar represents something but they are unsure of where to place it or how to interact with it so they give me a wide berth. The symbol of the collar can be both an invitation and a distraction for people. I struggle to find a balance between the two, but I like to believe that the invitations outweigh the distractions.

I joined my friend at the service of installation and preached a message about new beginnings and hope for futures resting squarely in the grace of God. I shared a message that spoke to my friend’s gifts for the ministry and her hunger to share God’s love. And I promised the congregation she is now serving that she would love them but also push them out of their comfort zone. I asked them to consider the future as an adventure to share with their new pastor to the glory of God. At the end of the sermon, I reminded them that God is faithful – that they should feel blessed for being the “luckiest congregation in the ELCA” and invited them to “be at peace.” It was a wonderful day to worship God and to share in the journey of my friend as she begins a new chapter in ministry. The funny thing is – after wearing my collar all morning, through airports, plane rides, and lunch on the beach – it was so hot at the church that my friend invited me to choose to continue wearing my collar or to cool off by changing into a different dress shirt. I chose the cooler shirt, which did not make me that much cooler but did remind me that the journey we travel as people of faith is one that calls us to be wholly present for the good and the not so good moments of this life.

So, my friends, look for the moments in these summer days and remind yourself to be wholly present, so you might share all of who you are with a friend, a child, a parent, a spouse, and especially your God. Perhaps, in these summer days, you might even consider giving your whole self to yourself as a gift – to rest for a quiet time of reconnection with who you truly are and not who think the world expects you to be.

Peace be with you,
Pastor Chris Marien

(This article was taken from Ascension’s August 2015 newsletter)