“It must be hard for you to wear your collar today!” These words from a stranger hit me like a Mac truck as I walked into the local gas station to pay for my fill-up and get the morning paper.

I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. Just the night before a former Roman Catholic bishop in the region was accused of a horrible crime. As I picked up the Chronicle Herald the headline read “Bishop Busted.” I received an uncomfortable look from the store clerk as I paid for the paper. When I drove away I felt shocked at the greeting from the man who recognized me as an ordained clergyman.

Earlier, as I got ready for the day, I thought to myself, “I am proud to wear a collar.” Of all days to wear one, this was it: later in the day I had a meeting with one of our bishops and other clergy from our region. When I got ready I couldn’t help but look in the mirror and see myself suited up for the day, in black garb and with the white tab—something I constantly lose, by the way, though part of an ice cream container top works in a pinch.

As soon as I left the house, however, I reflected that I was now in the wider world. For many, I thought, I represent something to this community. For some people, clergy are on a pedestal, but for others, they are like an archaic relic of a long-lost religion, which in a postmodern world has little meaning and is more of a nuisance.

I’m 26 and new to this chapter in my life. For some, seeing me in the collar is a bit of a novelty, something they only see in movies, like pop flick License to Wed, or on the other end of the spectrum, horror films like The Exorcist. Television shows Little Mosque on the Prairie, Seventh Heaven, The Vicar of Dibley and Father Ted are somewhere in between, making light-hearted attempts at capturing the life of clergy.

These attempts don’t really explain what it is like to wear a collar, to be there for a family in need, to face criticism in the media, and to suffer at the hands of those who feel the church is useless.

Some days I wake up wondering about the collar. Is it necessary? Does it draw too much attention to what ordained clergy are called to do? Could the church become more relevant if those in ordained ministries just wore a suit and tie? I’ve thought long and hard about this, and more importantly, I pray about this.

Supposedly the clerical collar was invented in 1827 and spread throughout England with the Oxford Movement. Some believe that the clergy collar itself has no religious meaning, apart from identifying one as being a clergyperson. Tradition says clergy are to wear the collar, but some of course choose to wear it more frequently than others.

For me, the collar represents who I am as a clergyperson and what I am called to.  It can be a symbol of hope for myself and for those who feel it is important. It sometimes starts a conversation, or perhaps silently it encourages people to explore the church on their own.

So in the face of criticism, as the church struggles to find itself in the world, I will continue to wear the collar. I feel called to this form of ministry, so when times are tough for the church, I will still grab that collar—or ice cream container top—and wear it.