She stole the show: Ceremony, creativity, and connection

A reprint from Susie Henderson, a textile artist based in Toronto, Ontario. Her partner, Jennifer Henry is a longtime activist and justice-impassioned leader who was recently ordained as a minister in the United Church of Canada.

A stole is the long “scarfy” thing worn by clergy during worship services. 

Sometimes people are surprised that I believe stoles matter as they have been interpreted as a traditional sign of clericalism and authority—and I’m not known for respecting those.

I started making them as matter of practicality for my partner when she became an ordained minister. But that got me thinking about them. So I’ll share a few thoughts about why I discovered stoles matter to me.

It’s about ceremony, creativity and connection.

I believe in the importance of ceremony, and I value sacred space as a way to nourish our spirits. Putting on a stole is a little ceremony in itself. (In some traditions the stole is kissed by the leader prior to use.) It’s a way for a worship leader to set an intention to create a good and just gathering, to be mindful of the people who are gathered, to attend to the moment, and to invite the Spirit.

A teacher I had a long while ago talked about liturgy as being a way to imagine and create the world as we would like it to be. I believe that art and creativity help us to envision that best place.

Along those lines, I also believe in the value of hand-made work. It connects us to the people who made it and the times and the places from which they came. One of the stoles I made for Jennifer was from a collection of old lacework that we gathered from her Mum’s sewing room after she died. Jen’s mom was a truly amazing maker and came from a line of faith-filled women who worked with their hands.

Through the work of their hands, these textiles connect us to the tradition of our ancestors in a good way. I like the idea that she carries them with her, literally as a mantle on her shoulders, as she takes up her role in public worship.

Finally, I am committed to refreshing the symbols and messages that we use in public worship. So my stoles are going to be focused around the struggles and stories that matter — rainbow stoles for lifting up the queer community, stoles that embrace the season of creation in this time of climate crisis, and so on.

I believe that our religious traditions are alive. We get the most out of them when we engage and mess around with them. So this is my version of that, making what I hope are stoles that matter.

An additional note from Ken Gray

Admittedly I may not have paid enough attention to vestments including stoles over the years. I own and use a somewhat incomplete set of vestments and have no plans to increase my holdings now in retirement. I am more interested in the spoken and musical word than sartorial attire. But others value it greatly. Liturgical dress helps many make Godly connections in public worship.

Here’s a funny story. When a colleague retired he came to my church the following Sunday. He had a lovely white chasuble (the vestment worn by priests for the celebration of Holy Eucharist). He said this vestments was given to him by another priest on the occasion of his retirement. So he passed it on to me. Now I need to find the next recipient -though it’s traditional design may not appeal to some—but not yet.

Wearing it last Sunday in worship at a neighbouring church the chasuble attracted much attention. One woman told me that when she came forward to receive communion she almost forgot to take the bread as she was so interested in the vestment detail. Upon leaving church another woman said the vestment was lovely but really needed to be ironed. Possibly the same woman pulled my wife aside at coffee time instructing her to work with me on caring for my vestments. People, be calm!

People do notice such things. Along with other sights, sounds (and in some cases, smells), public worship done well stirs all the senses. And funny “scarfy” things are part of the package. Thanks Susie for a lovely reflection.

For other examples of original liturgical vestments see the work of Thomas Roach. Additionally, here in the Diocese of Kootenay we remember with affection and thanksgiving the life and creative fibre art of Elizabeth Hodgkinson, taken from us far too soon.