Mon petite daffodils,
Transitions are hard. It is hard to transition from being a stay-at-home mama to being, for instance, a working woman in the corporate world. It is hard to transition from being a working person to a retired person. It is challenging to transition from being a movie star to being a rehab resident. It is hard to transition from being a seminarian to an ordained clergyperson.
What happens when one of your friends doesn’t seem to be making the transition well? You must pull him or her aside and say this:
“Honey Lamb, I love ya like a house afire, but your look is still too Hanes-oriented to make the professional scene. You’re undermining your own authority by wearing shapless sweatclothes, and it still doesn’t work if they’re skirts or pants or shirts with buttons; they’re not appropriate. Please let me go shopping with you and we’ll make a super fun day of it and try on tons of stuff — even stuff you don’t think will look good on you — we’re going to explore, not necessarily to purchase — and we’re going to find the more beautiful, polished YOU I know is in there. And you’re going to agree to this or I am going to send Marvin the Torch to your closet and there will be a Very Tragic Accident there.”
The point is, you must be blunt. You gotta be brave, ya gotta be bold, ya gotta be stronger. That’s not just a great karaoke song by Des’ree, it’s also a truth about friendship relationships. Friends do not let friends leave the house with muffin tops and rear-end cleavage. They call their sisters on dresses that have become a Festival of Inappropriate Sharing and offer to loan a camisole if necessary. Dudes pull their dude pals aside and say, “Let me loan you my electric razor, pal. Better yet, I’ll come over ten minutes earlier tonight and shave those gorilla hairs off the back of your neck for you, which, by the way, wouldn’t hurt to scrub now and then.” This is a given. But God also helps those who help themselves, and those of us who know that we’re going to be making an important life transition will do ourselves a world of good if we prepare earlier, rather than later, for that transition. For ministers-to-be, this means:
1. Get out of your sweats and jeans once in awhile. Own at least a couple pairs of pants that could serve in a professional setting, and know what size and cuts flatter you and FIT. Why wait until pre-candidating week, when you’ll already have enough on your mind? What’s your dress size? Hate dresses? What’s your skirt size? Fellas, do you own at least once decent tie? Get on it. Sports coat, a few decent shirts? Borrow if you have to. Develop a spectrum of looks and make some conscious choices about where and when they work for you. When in doubt, overdress a bit.
2. Assemble your grooming and/or cosmetics products as soon as you can, and start a routine of using them. Sure, you can go to class with witchy dry hair or scraggly facial hair, crust in your eyes and pallid, puffy skin that identifies you as someone who hasn’t seen the light of day since you started Intermediate Greek, but don’t get used to yourself that way. Step it up when you can. Don’t start bad grooming habits in seminary and expect it to be easy to break them once you’re a working pastor. This leads to the type of whining that causes PeaceBang to want to spank you: “I don’t have tiiiiiime to style my hair! I don’t have tiiiiiime to wear blush or lipstick!” Well then, poochikins, you don’t have tiiime to project an image of leadership, pride in your calling and dignity of the pastoral office, either, and PeaceBang doesn’t have tiiiime for that attitude!
3. As early as possible, start an organizational system for your liturgical and programmatic work. The first time someone asks you to preach, start a file for that service under theme or date or however you choose to do it. File away prayers, file chalice lightings, invocations, funeral/memorial readings, baby blessings, orders of service …. develop a system and start using it devotedly at the earliest possible moment. This isn’t about your external beauty but your interior calm when you start leading and crafting worship yourself, and (pssst), if you have an organized study (PeaceBang’s books are arranged, for instance, by subject all over her parsonage), you’ll have the tiiiiime you need before a wedding or Sunday morning service to iron your shirt and shine your shoes, fill in your eyebrows and apply some lip gloss, do ten minutes of deep belly breathing, and show up poised, peaceful and prepared.
As the world gets more chaotic and uncertain, my doves, we must be ever-more-conscious, centered and grounded representatives of HaShem, the divine Presence. If we come shooting through the door in drab jeans, hair sprouting from our ears, white gym socks where there should be black dress socks, faces and bodies that tell a tale of self-neglect, we contribute to the sense that God is not in His/Her heaven and all is not right with the world.
Tell a different tale. Tell it with your very being. Start today. Go be beautiful.