After being an "official" pastor for about a year now, I finally relented on Saturday, and allowed my parents to buy me my Christmas present early--an alb.
Part of the reason I resisted was theological--the alb used to be a symbol of a servant and was everyday street-wear. But now, no one walks around in a white gown with a rope cinture at the waist unless they are going to a toga party on a college campus. For me, the same symbolism could be acheived by actually wearing street clothes so that I can come out of the congregation to preach/lead worship--I am one of the people and not above them.
Another reason I resisted was practical...I had no clue what I would want. I knew that I would need an alb for commissioning and ordination...but what type? There are a variety of styles and shapes. I had my own list of requirements: 2 pockets--not just slits, because my skirts don't have pockets like men's pants; a feminine shape--I am a woman after all; large enough that it could hide a pregnant belly, if and when it were needed; and wrinkle reistant--my ironing skills leave A LOT to be desired! These decisions were important to me, because an alb is a considerable investment, and hopefully mine will be with me for the next 50 years of ministry!
But the last reason I resisted was because somehow, having an alb, the "uniform" of UMC clergy in my area, makes everything more "official" and legitimate. It gives me a status and identity marker. It's an identity, that despite my strong feeling of call, downright terrifies me. I've been teetering on the edge of the cliff for the past year--taking on the identity of a pastor when it's helpful to do so--visiting in a hospital, explaining what I do, etc.--and leaving the identity of a pastor behind when I feel like it...which is most of the time. I don't want to be known as "pastor" first. I am me...a Child of God...being a pastor is what I DO, but not who I AM. For me, the alb became the symbol that there was "no turning back." And I was scared.
On Saturday, when I went to get fitted for the alb--mine has to be custom-made because my proportions are too wacky for a "ready-made" one--I couldn't help but feel like I was playing "dress up." As a child, I would wear my mother's old dresses and high heals, carry an old purse, throw a fake boa around my neck, and prance around the house as a "fancy" lady. I felt a little like that on Saturday. There I was in my jeans and t-shirt, with a pair of dress shoes in my hand, having a measuring tape wrapped around every conceivable part of my body and imagining myself prancing around in the alb. I was scared, and it showed.
On a side note...for all those ladies out there...if you are looking for an alb, there are about 20 different choices for the guys...and we have one basic choice--same style, with lace or without lace? Two brands carry the same alb--one comes with no pockets, the other with two. So your choices are pockets and lace. Nothing to choose from style-wise. The gender discrimination is still present...but that's another rant for another day.
For me, all of my lingering uncertainties about my calling, my effectiveness (or potential effectiveness) in ministry, my acute awareness of my age, gender, medical issues and speech issues were all wrapped up in the image of the alb. Somehow, if I could delay getting an alb, I could keep pretending that I was living in a dream-world, and that I would wake up one day. I could back out of ministry if needed. But now...now it's official. And I'm scared. What if I'm not good enough? What if I fail? What if...? Am I really just playing "dress up" in a white gown and looking like I'm going to a toga party on a college campus? Or am I really a pastor? What is my identity? Who am I? Who has God called me to be?
Now I have the alb...well, actually, it's being made and shipped to me...I should have it in 2 months or so...probably before Christmas. But only time will tell if the alb is simply "dress up" or an affirmation of me and my calling. Sometimes we all have to take off our "masks" and dress up clothes to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. That's scary...but I know that God is always right there by my side...guiding and leading me. And God never has to play "dress up" because God is true...and the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. God doesn't change, even if how we perceive God changes. And I am grateful that no matter how much I "dress up," God can see through that, and knows me for who I am.
