becoming (vocation)

Early in August I bought my first clergy shirt. This was kind of an exciting moment for me, and not just because it’s the most expensive shirt I own. Growing up a pastor’s son, these shirts were always in our laundry and in my dad’s closet. They were a symbol, for me, of who my dad was and what he meant for the community. I remember playing with the little white collar that he would pull off and leave on the table next to the couch after he crashed and fell asleep after Sunday services. I would feel the smooth white plastic on the sides and the textured middle as I turned it around in my little fingers. I would wonder why in the world the pastor wears this but never thought to ask this question (I later learned it is to symbolize that we are slaves to Christ—Roman slaves wore a similar collar to denote their lowly status).
When I bought the “Friar Tuck” brand shirt at the Augsburg Fortress store this summer the first thing I did was try it on with my suit and take a picture on my cell phone so I could send it to my parents. I felt like a kid playing pastor, getting dressed up in dad’s shirts and baptizing my GI Joes in a cereal bowl filled with water. It was like I was eight again, imitating my dad during his internship year. This feeling of playing pastor or imitating dad lasted for a couple of months. It returned each Sunday as I got dressed in the morning and made my way to the church. Yet, with each passing Sunday and with every funeral for which I wear the shirt during the week the feeling has dissipated. It is beginning to feel like my shirt, like my calling. And that is good.
I didn’t expect to feel like a kid playing pastor. It disturbed me at first. Even though I’d been told otherwise, I think I figured that as soon as a person is called to intern or called to be pastor for a particular church the pastoral identity would automatically come. Deep down, I figured that having the shirt or having the degree gave me the pastoral identity. What I’ve come to learn, and what I’ve come to treasure is the fact that the pastoral identity is not something given to a pastor like revelation from above or like a degree from an institution. The pastoral identity is earned in the relationships of mutual trust that form within the congregation. A person isn’t suddenly a pastor. A person becomes a pastor. My pastoral identity is formed in relationship with the parishioners of SPLC.
It has been a joy for me becoming a pastor for SPLC and I am so grateful that they have invited me into the trust of such formative relationships.