I admit that in our area, the wearing a clerical collar is an odd thing. It means I'm usually asked two questions: (a) what does that funny shirt mean/stand for/signify? and (b) why wear it?
Let me start with the easier question: Why wear it?
My current practice is to wear a clerical shirt when I'm exercising the ministry to which I was ordained -- that is, when I'm serving in liturgical or educational ministries (or stand available so to do). In practice, that means I wear black on Sundays and on days that I teach, and other days if I'm leading worship (or exercising my teaching ministry in a non-classroom way). I also wear it when I'm exercising a pastoral ministry in any way in the community -- for example, when we go to funerals.
The arguments against wearing them, insofar as I've heard arguments against wearing them, basically center around one primary complaint: "But a clerical collar makes you look special". (I'll deal with the particular arguments against clericals in more detail below.)
On this account, clergy attire signifies something "special" because it signifies power and privilege, a staked claim on the disproportionate amount of "heavenly goods". These folks see clergy dressed in collars and think we're demanding something: "Notice me, respect me, I'm holy".
Thing is, that thinking not only disrespects clergy, but it disrespects laity. If I, as a minister, am special, then you can expect me to exercise leadership. Which means the ministries and leaderships of laity -- who have ministries and leaderships because they're baptized -- aren't important or existent. Forget outreach, theological reflection, prayer, etc. That's what the special people are for.
That's what we call clericalism. It's a Bad Thing. Even on its most charitable spin. Everything in clericalism above is contradicted in Scripture and the best of Christian tradition. So it's not why I wear what I wear.
Why I wear what I wear is way more complicated than that.
Let's say some clergy wear the funny black shirts for the power and privilege. Okay. But that's most certainly not been my experience. Wearing the black clothes with funny collar make me usually subject to a variety of 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 you're a pastor and you think you are aggrandizing yourself when you wear clericals, you'll be disappointed. The congregation quickly gets used to the clericals and they see them as badges of service, not honor. Clericals put you in the same functional category as bellhops, waiters, police officers, airline pilots, and so on. We don't dress to please ourselves, or anyone else for that matter; our manner of dress facilitates our service. It makes our function obvious to strangers. It makes our duties inescapable, and it constrains our personal conduct, because we can't disappear into the crowd when we are wearing clericals. Clericals mean that visitors don't have to ask, "Where is the pastor?" They know just by looking.
Some years ago, I wore my clericals on a flight. On the airplane, I heard a confession, reassured a frightened traveler, and calmed a terrified child. I was delighted that a routine air flight had turned into pastoral ministry. If you're clergy and you've never worn a clergy shirt to visit people in the hospital, you should try it. The clergy shirt means you don't have to explain who you are or why you're there. The staff extends you all necessary courtesies, and even delirious patients know right off what you are. You can get in after visiting hours and quite often you don't have to pay for parking, even if you've never been to that particular hospital before. Of course the catch is, you have to be on your best ministerial behavior the entire time you are there, so this is not something you should try if your self-discipline is weak.
If I called the police because of a burglary in my house, I would not be reassured if the police showed up driving a sports car with his kids in the back, and wearing jeans and loafers. If I'm in distress because of a crime, I want the police to arrive in a police car and I want them to be wearing freshly pressed uniforms. If I have just been through a burglary, I don't need a buddy, I don't need a narcissist expressing himself in his clothing, I need a policeman. I need a policeman who will carry out the law, not his self-expression. I couldn't care less about who he is personally; I called him as a representative of a greater force. Similarly, if I am on my deathbed, facing the greatest spiritual crisis in my life, I don't want a buddy to come express himself. I want a properly uniformed and equipped minister of God who subordinates himself to his ministry, and who confidently and authoritatively represents God.
In other words, basically my clericals are my uniform. The UPS lady wears brown. The postman wears blue. The police wear black. The McDonalds worker wears the shirt with name tag. I wear the uniform that says, "I'm here in the name of Jesus, representing his company called church".
Is that a good thing? I think so, after years of having worn them. It's good to spot a minister when people have a need. That's more difficult if I look like a banker or business person just wearing a suit and tie. To my mind, it's worth signaling to the world that some people take this stuff seriously enough to make themselves answerable to the world's outlandish expectations. It's worth putting myself in the line of ideological fire. And plain clothes don't ensure clerical innocence; clergy can certainly still manage to be self-important, manipulative, passive-aggressive, abusive rats even without black clothing. Humble is as humble does, in black or in blue jeans or in a natty suit.
Some years ago I served a church with a vibrant prison ministry. When you visit people in jail, what sort of message do you convey with your clothing? If you show up in casual clothes, you are trying to say, "I'm just one of the gang", but they hear the message, "I'm not taking this seriously". If you show up in a business suit, you are trying to say, "I'm a well-dressed capable person", but they hear the message, "I'm a man of the world". If you show up in clericals, they know why you're there. You are there as a spiritual mentor, as a confessor, as a representative of Jesus and his Church.
In my experience, wearing the odd clothes makes me accountable as a peacemaker, as a pray-er, as a counselor for Jesus.
If there's a special treatment factor, it's not because I expect it. I couldn't command it if I wanted to. It's always something people surprise me with. If my being a minister gives folks an opportunity to be kind and generous when they might not be, then maybe they'll be kind and generous to someone after me. Kindness and gentleness might even be habit-forming (and therefore character-forming) in the long run.
Does my being visible disempower non-ordained? Maybe. But I work hard to ensure it doesn't. In my experience, if it does, it's because they already have a malformed idea of what it means to be clergy, anyway. So it becomes my job to ensure they develop and hone their own baptismal gifts and graces.
People who want a minister can identify me as someone to ask for help, for prayers, for a hand, for directions, for advice. That's what I volunteered to cope with seventeen years ago this very week (making me feel very old now!). People who resent my wearing clericals can vent their frustrations at me.
Now, to the other question: What does it mean?
The backgrounds for the shirt and collar are in practices of ancient Roman slavery. Slaves worse metal collars. I'm a slave for Jesus, like Paul, by virtue of my ordination (Romans 1.1).
So when I get dressed this way, I'm venturing the very best of that sign. I'm embodying Matthew 23.11: Being a servant of all. I'm willing to be judged for the extent to which I comply with the pernicious significations (and I certainly don't want to try to evade responsibility for those significations just by dressing differently). I'm a servant, of a particular kind, and I took on this service willingly; it's the right thing for me to do. And I don't mind if you can tell by looking, and I don't mind if that irks you, and I'm sorry if you read my clothing in the light of poor examples of my colleagues (I try not to hold all police to blame for the bad ones). By wearing a black shirt and collar, I signify my willingness to deal with the complications of a clerical vocation head-on, the bad with the good, and to let you draw your conclusions about how that pans out.
I know there are objections -- because I know, again, certain members of my family aren't comfortable. But I don't think they hold water.
How does a black shirt represent Jesus? He didn't wear distinctive clothing.
Actually, he did. In many places, people walked up to him and addressed him as teacher -- out of the blue. Without knowing who He was (that is, Jesus), they knew what He was (that is, a rabbi), because they asked him to do rabbinical things: To heal the sick, cast out demons, settle disputes, probate wills, and decide religious issues. So we have to ask: How could they know he was a rabbi in one circumstance, but not in another? Why were people surprised by his expertise at the Feast in John 7.10-15, when they took it for granted in situations such as Mark 10.17? The only explanation is that they knew by the way he was dressed. When they addressed him as a rabbi, he must have been dressed like a rabbi; the surprise was not that he was a rabbi, but how he handled their requests. In John 7, they did not recognize him as a rabbi, so they were surprised that he knew rabbinical things. He must not have been dressed as a rabbi. The only way he could attend the Feast "in secret" was to go without wearing rabbinical clothes.
While Jesus definitely did not wear a black shirt with a white collar, he obviously wore the first-century equivalent. So clergy who wear clericals are imitating Christ. I think the clergy who don't wear clericals -- and instead opt for suit and tie -- have the more difficult position to defend.
But people will react negatively (whatever that means).
Conflict-avoidant people raise this objection, but there are two problems with letting other people's phobias dictate your wardrobe. The first is that you are not solving their problem by changing your clothes, you are only letting it fester unresolved. The second is that if you are driven by your own fears of what other people will think of you, you're on a slippery slope to second-guessing yourself into total ineffectiveness as the Rev. Milquetoast. If someone has a problem with clerical dress, at least this exposes it so you can help them overcome it. I observe, however, that this problem is more apprehension than substance.
It'll make our pastor look Catholic.
First, that's not true -- lots of Christian traditions wear clericals. Second, this betrays a anti-Catholic strain that isn't biblical. Think John 17.
The lesson I want my clergy friends to take away: If you dress like a minister, people will think you are one.
Now, again, I know clericalism is very bad. Clericalism is the idea that we clergy are the "professional" Christians. That we're special. And clericalism is the opposite of what I'm articulating here.
Clericals rarely -- in my experience that should be never! -- give people reason to think I'm looking for special treatment. I'm not holier, or a better Christian, because I wear this shirt.
So if you're holding me to that standard, you've misunderstood what I've been saying. Try again.
Clericalism is a Very. Bad. Thing.
Being a servant leader of the people of God is not that. It's being a servant.
But the take away here, again: If you dress like a minister, people will think you are one.