I’ve been a pastor for ten years, but only recently purchased my first clerical collar. It was just $30! I wondered if Amazon had sold me a Halloween costume by mistake.
In the days leading up to Halloween, my three young children were like carbonated beverages. They bubbled with excitement about their costumes and the promise of candy. But they were even more giddy about the decorations.
After supper, my wife and I would load them into the minivan in their PJs. As we cruised the neighborhood, “oohs” and “ahhs” cascaded from the backseats. They loved the lights. But the inflatables were the biggest hits — witches, monsters, and a giant black cat that turned its head as if following you with its yellow eyes.
Before we left one evening, I mentioned my recent purchase. Our oldest wondered why I would want to wear a collar … like a pet! I explained that this type of collar is for pastors and was a white band of fabric that fit around my neck.
My son asked, “Kinda like a tie?”
Sort of. Except it doesn’t hang down.
“But Dad, what does it do?”
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The volunteer coordinator at the nonprofit organization that called for clergy to serve as “poll chaplains” told me that my job is to symbolize “moral authority.” She said I was to wear my clerical collar and make myself visible outside the polling station on Election Day. I was to keep an eye out for any sign of voter intimidation.
“And you can pray,” she added.
I do pray for my country and its elected leaders, whether I voted for them or not. My prayers for my country are like my prayers for my children. For health and happiness. To be kind and generous, bold and creative. As Gandhi is often credited with praying, to be the change they wish to see in the world.
I keep hearing people claim that this is the most important election of our lifetime. For my youngest, it is the only presidential election since she’s been alive. I watch her walk up to complete strangers and proudly inform them that she is going to be a jackrabbit for Halloween. Not a bunny! She is so open and trusting, without an ounce of guile. Therein lies her moral authority: the faith of a child.
I did receive training to become a poll chaplain — over Zoom. Such are the times. The instructor ran through various scenarios we might encounter. From people making false claims that the polls were closing early to militias marching through parking lots. More than one clergyperson on the call was heard to mutter, “Je-sus.”
The instructor reported an instance of a man coughing on people standing in line for early voting. A fellow volunteer responded, “How immature! Was he five years old?”
I think of my five-year-old son who occasionally screams, cries, and throws himself on the floor if he does not get his way. There are situations that call for an adult to be in the room. Or the parking lot for that matter.
After the Zoom, I tried on my clerical collar in front of the mirror. Was this the face of moral authority?
I imagined how I might de-escalate a situation. Let’s say I ask an agitator if he — and it always seems to be a he! — has children. What did his kids or grandkids wear for Halloween? My little girl was a jackrabbit. Not a bunny! She would tell you! She loves animals and wants a dog and a cat. And a lion! Do you have pets? My daughter was born three years ago on the day after Thanksgiving. Don’t you and I have a lot to be thankful for? Don’t we have a great deal in common?
Author’s note: A follow-up post will be written after Election Day describing the experience of being a poll chaplain.
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Photo: IStock
