Transitions

A week ago this evening, a dear friend and colleague died unexpectedly while out of town. He leaves behind a wife and teen-aged daughter who must both mourn his untimely passing and imagine how to rebuild their lives on a different path...an unwanted, but necessary, transition.




Transitions happen to all of us: we move into a new home; we graduate from school; we take on a new job or project; we retire from full time employment; we loose a spouse, a parent, a friend. All are times of transitions; some expected and greatly anticipated; others not so much.  These "others" are times of unrest and trepidation.  They are thrust upon us unawares without preparation or forethought.






Most of us like to be prepared. We save for a rainy day or retirement.  We go to preparation classes for College Boards, GMATS, GRE's and LSATS. We practice over and over again for organ, piano or violin recitals. We memorize times tables so we can be swift and accurate in computations. Yet we still fear being unprepared.




So we pray, as we do in the Great Litany of Lent as it appears in the Book of Common Prayer: From all oppression, conspiracy, and rebellion; from  violence, battle, and murder; and from dying suddenly and  unprepared, Good Lord, deliver us.




But are we ever really prepared for these transitions? At what point does one become an adult?  Upon turning 18? Or when one begins paying rent and monthly bills? Or is it when work and family responsibilities force one to curtail the partying cycle of those halcyon student days? Or perhaps when time and fortune force transition due to the loss of a loved one, especially a parent or grandparent. 


When that ephemeral layer of older generations that hangs above our heads begins to disappear, and we realize that we are now what Great-Uncle Harry was before us...we are now the top of that layer and once we are gone, all memory of those who went before us, at least in our family and social circles will disappear when we ourselves pass on.



And we need, at any point in our own life cycle, to realize that transitions will always happen.  They are part of this human experience and should be embraced for what they are.  We have little control over them, but we can learn to accept that they will indeed happen.

Weaing Clericals

One thing that I do that separates me from most people is that at times I wear a clerical collar. I don't do this as a fashion statement.  I do this because I really am an ordained person.  In April of 1997, The Right Reverend Richard Grein, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New York put his hands on my head and called upon the powers that be to make me a deacon in the church.  And after that, my world view changed completely. An outward sign of this change was that, on occasion, I would wear the outward sign of that ordination: a clerical collar.
The clerical collar was invented around 1840 by the Rev. Donald MacLoud, a Presbyterian minister in Glasgow. It was later adopted by most Christian groups as well as Orthodox Churches. Originally made of starched cotton, in our times, clerical collars are made of flexible washable plastic...which can sometimes crack in very cold climes or just encourage profuse sweating in areas that are overly warm. Most attach with removable collar studs front and back.  I prefer a Velcro "dickie" that fits under most of my clothing making it both portable and flexible.

Roman Collar

There are two common kinds of clerical collars: Roman and Anglican. The Roman collar is the model preferred by most Roman Catholic clerics and most Lutheran pastors.  It features a white "tab" that visibly joins a rounded black collar. 

 The Anglican one, my personal preference, is a white band that circles the throat.

Anglican Collar

When I am in collar to say that I often am the object of second and third glances would be an understatement.  I am used to it at this point, and just go about whatever it is I am doing. Often people do not know how to react to a woman in a clerical collar. It is not so with the guys.  One is never far off the mark if one refers to said individual as "Father" or "Pastor", but many are tongue-tied when faced with a woman in clericals.

I have been called "Sister" more often than not.  On one particular occasion, I was slated to officiate at a relative's wedding in the US Virgin Islands.  My sister was my traveling companion, and as we entered the jaunty car to get to the venue, the driver turned to her and asked: "Is she a Sister?"

To which my quick witted companion replied: "She is a sister, but she ain't no nun." 
He then drove us to the wedding spot in complete silence.
People are often more polite and tend to watch their language when I am in my collar...that also means I need to be thoughtful about what I say, and sarcasm and flippant remarks...something I am wont to do, need to be curtailed.
Back in the 70's at my local Roman Catholic Church, we were assigned two transitional deacons who were there to work with the youth and get some hands-on experience.  My brother shortened their title to "Deak", and it stuck.  One went on to become a priest, the other left to marry a girl he meet. We referred to Father John by the nickname "Deak"until his unexpected and untimely death.
In my current assignment my rector and his wife refer to me as "Deak".  I am sure John is getting a good laugh at that one.
Today I was at a community event that required me to identify as clergy and I wore my collar.  I sat in the warm summer sun giving out apples, oranges and pears to over 100 children and their parents.  Many are recent immigrant families from Mexico and Central America, so I got to practice my Spanish as well.
 I offered an orange to a gentleman who was with his wife and grandchildren. After he took the orange, he took a close look at me and asked," You a minister?"
To which I replied,"Yeah, what gave it away?"
"I'm Sicilian, but I can tell by that thing you're wearing around your neck."
I smiled at him, but thought to myself:"Ya think?"