Copyright: © 2001 Paul F. Bosch.
This document may be freely reproduced for non-commercial purposes with credit to the author and mention of the Lift Up Your Hearts web site http://www.worship.ca/ as the source.

We continue this month our consideration of the use of the fabric arts in worship.

Cassock and surplice are familiar vestments to many worshipers. The black cassock represents the street dress of North European clergy in the Middle Ages; The white surplice is essentially an alb, shortened in length and with enlarged sleeves -- so as to allow a fur coat to be worn underneath (Yes!) in wintry North European churches! The cassock and surplice are traditionally choir vestments; parish musicians and choirs may appropriately wear (black) cassock and (white) cotta -- a shortened surplice -- at any service of the church. Clergy, of course, may appropriately wear cassock and surplice -- no stole -- at the so-called "choir offices": Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer.

And it's my guess that it was the use of the cassock and surplice by Anglican clergy for Anglican Morning Prayer on Sundays that served as inspiration for their being adopted by North American Lutherans, in Lutheranism's delayed "Oxford Movement" of the 1930's and 1940's, as vesture for Lutheran Sunday worship -- which of course was rarely Morning Prayer, but rather The Holy Communion, or "ante-Communion". The use of cassock and surplice and stole --or alb and stole- - for Holy Communion is thus a North American Lutheran eccentricity.

A footnote on coloured cassocks: There has been a tradition in some Church of England cathedrals to vest choirs in cassocks with distinctive "cathedral colors" -- for example, red, or blue, or mouse grey; Coventry Cathedral cassocks are a handsome chocolate brown. (Cottas and surplices, versions of the baptismal alb, are always white.) Apart from this distinctively English usage, however, North American choirs vested in coloured cassocks -- or in coloured hoods, coloured yokes, coloured stoles, or coloured palliums -- can claim no historic precedence, and represent a ritual affectation which congregations should struggle to resist. See the paragraphs below on colour.

A further footnote on the clergy shirt: Contemporary clergy shirts are yet another elaboration -- one might say corruption -- of the Medieval cassock (see above), cut down still shorter in length, so as to become in effect a mere vestige: a vestige of a vestige. With its notched and raised lapel, it is today a remnant of l9th century gentleman's dress, distinctly archaic.

It might be argued persuasively that the clergy shirt helps to identify the pastor as a religious professional on important occasions, such as hospital visitations and counseling situations. Especially in our day, when "boundary issues" between client and counselor have taken on new importance, I myself would be certain to wear a clerical collar in almost every counseling situation, precisely because the collar is off-putting. And many laypeople prefer to see their pastors in distinctive clerical dress. One hears further of Jewish rabbis adopting the clerical collar in our day so as to look like other religious professionals.

That granted, there seems to me to be less and less justification, in our more relaxed, informal, and egalitarian age, for retaining the clergy-shirt-with-clerical-collar as a validation or aid to identifying professional religious workers. In a church which professes allegiance to an understanding of the priesthood of all believers, the clergy shirt represents still another subversion of that splendid Biblical insight: See Essay 27, above.

Roman Catholic clergy are abandoning the clerical collar in significant numbers. Of course, it must be noted that Roman Catholic clergy are trying to rectify a crippling over-clericalization within their tradition; it could perhaps equally be argued that Protestants -- and Lutherans! -- have the task today of rectifying a crippling under-clericalization within their traditions!

In any case, the clerical collar has become problematic, at least for me, today. I can understand the need of some clergy to wear clerical garb. ("Some of my best friends wear clerics....") But a) Don't depend on the clerical collar to validate your ministry; the Word alone does that. And b) Don't take it too seriously; be aware that you are dealing with a vestige of a vestige. Seminarians -- women seminarians especially -- might ask themselves why they might want to dress today like 19th Century gentlemen.

And of course, there is no justification whatever, historical or pedagogical or functional, for parish pastors to affect coloured clergy shirts. Colour has a teaching function in the Western church which coloured clergy shirts obscure. The Western church has a long and noble tradition of distinctive colour uses. Colour is not a neutral thing -- it is no mere decoration -- in the Western Christian tradition, but carries distinctive meanings to those trained in its use; a bishop, for example, may wear a purple clergy shirt. But coloured clergy shirts on parish pastors -- apart from being tacky -- simply obscure or frustrate this splendid teaching opportunity. If you want colour in your wardrobe, wear a Hawaiian sport shirt.

And the tab collar clergy shirt is a particularly graceless compromise with convenience. For students of costume and vesture, the tab collar represents a counterfeit of a real collar. Because the tab collar pretends to look like a full collar, I would describe it as regressive and fraudulent; It is not a "righteous" garment, in the Hebrew sense of that term. If you are buying a clergy shirt, get a black one with a full white collar.

The alb (alba = Latin for "white") is the primary vestment used in Christian worship. It is the white garment of baptism, a sign of our adoption into the family of God, wherein we are clothed with a righteousness not our own, but given in grace to us by Christ.

Further, the white alb is gaining wide ecumenical acceptance as the basic vestment worn by any leader of Christian worship, both lay and ordained. I know a Mennonite pastor who regularly wears the white alb. There is reason to suppose -- and to rejoice! -- that, in future years, the alb will continue to gain wide acceptance and become a universally recognized vestment in Christian worship.

The stole (stola = Latin for "yoke") is worn by worship leaders who have been ordained, and is a sign of their bearing the yoke of Christ in a public ministry. Like the sash of an ambassador at the United Nations, the stole announces that its wearer has been given authority to serve a public responsibility -- in this case by the church, to preach and teach and administer the sacraments in public worship.

The chasuble (casula = Latin for "little house") is worn only by the presiding minister, and only at Holy Communion. It is the wedding garment of the messianic banquet -- this "feast of victory" for royal sons and daughters of God, who have been made heirs with Christ of the Dominion of Heaven.

Note that there is a long tradition in the church for the stole and chasuble to serve as marks of the ordained. Parish celebrations should honour this tradition: unordained lay leaders and seminarians wear alb alone. The stole is worn by ordained clergy to represent their teaching and representative function; and the chasuble is worn only at Holy Communion, and only by presiding minister. And even ordained clergy might wear alb alone -- no stole -- at Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer, since these are not "preaching services".

The maniple (manus = Latin for "hand") is a white towel or napkin carried over the wrist of presider and servers at Holy Communion, at Baptisms, at various services requiring the use of oil, and at Maundy Thursday's foot washing, for example. It is a sign of their servanthood, recalling the white napkin of the head waiter in a dining room.

As in the dining room, the maniple in Christian worship serves a utilitarian purpose: Worship leaders may use it to clean soiled fingers, or, at a baptism, to dry wet ones. The maniple is one of the most ancient vestments in Christian worship, and in antiquity it was a simple white cloth, draped over the wrist. The medieval maniple lost its functional purpose altogether and degenerated into a purely decorative -- and useless -- appendage: an elaborate flap of brocade or tapestry, in the color of the season, often fringed, dangling from the wrist.

But the use of a maniple by clergy and laypeople who serve bread and cup at Holy Communion, or the water at baptism, or the oil at anointing, represents yet another of my lonely, one might say idiosyncratic, crusades. That is to say: I pray earnestly for the day when all ministers who exercise a servant ministry in worship, in handling the "stuff" of our world, will wear (and use!) a simple white cotton maniple, as sign of their servanthood -- even in informal settings where they might wear no other "vestments".

Be sure to note my prejudices against the cincture in Essay 17 above. You'll be either amused or outraged, or both, by my remarks there.

The cope is a liturgical cape, richly textured and in the colour of the season, worn by any leader, lay or ordained, in Christian worship on festive occasions. It is sometimes worn in parish worship by the leader of a festive service of Evening Prayer, and can be encountered at synodical events when it is worn by a bishop. But any Christian, ordained or lay, may wear the cope, while exercising a leadership role in worship; it adds colour and drama to a festive service, especially for processions, and may be removed in the chancel, for example, after the procession, or before preaching.

A word about jewelry: It is not appropriate for worship leaders to wear jewelry during their service "up front". Even inexpensive jewelry can be an affront to the poor. Finger rings, necklaces, earrings (especially dangle earrings!), and even wrist watches can be distracting at best, and at worst, signals of an indecorous affluence unbecoming to leaders in Christian public worship. A pectoral cross likewise is inappropriate for worship leaders, since the pectoral cross has traditionally served as designation for a bishop.