Compartments

I still remember the first time I bought lunch at the school cafeteria in elementary school. I don't remember what was on the plate, but I do remember the plate -- some sort of hard plastic dinnerware, tan in color, divided into three sections by raised ridges -- compartments! The gravy for the mashed potatoes stayed in place, as did the liquid runoff from the ever-present, artificially green peas. Applesauce no longer oozed everywhere like an out-of-control amoeba. Everything was contained. Separated. In its appropriate place.

I was fascinated and immediately wondered how to get my parents to outfit our table with these fabulous inventions. I failed in that endeavor (unfortunately!), and instead, had to devise other ways to keep everything carefully separated on my plate at home. But, in many ways those cheap, ugly plates, with their immovable compartments mirrored the way I was formed as a person (formally and informally) at home, at school and at church. Here are a few of the "social compartments" I learned about throughout my childhood:

"Separation of church and state."
"Religion and politics don't mix."
"Keep your religion to yourself when you're at school."
"Witness to the faith out there, 'in the world', because the 'world' is sinful and needs saving."
"The body is to be controlled and denied so the soul can progress."
"Heaven above. Earth below. Hell beneath."
"Sin and Salvation."
"There is one way to 'heaven' and everyone who refuses (or is ignorant of) that way goes to 'hell'."

To be sure, I no longer see life as quite so neat and orderly. Compartments are constructs. Life isn't so simple. I cannot keep my religion, my politics, my race, my socio-economic status, my education, my gender, my orientation, my family of origin and my nationality from bumping into each other, influencing each other, oozing onto each other, arguing with each other, wrestling with each other and competing with each other.  One part of who I am cannot be cordoned off from the rest of me. And, I question anyone who would argue that they have the ability to compartmentalize themselves to the extent that one aspect of who they are doesn't impact another part of who they are becoming.

Over the past few years, I've struggled with this notion of keeping my personal opinions separate from my work as a pastor and priest. Do I have the authority to speak to controversial issues as a priest when no authority has been given me by the judicatory to do so? I'm well aware my ordination vows collar me to a way of life in which I am to care for all people -- even (and maybe even especially) those who have different views on any range of issues than I do. Does the collar (as I have so often joked) really come with a muzzle?

How do I balance the convictions that I have as a result of who I am, where I've been and the experiences of my life with the Church's penchant for having its clergy be agreeable, pleasant and nondescript under the rubric of inclusivity and of not giving any sort of "offense" to those we are called (or is it hired?) to serve?

Here's the rub. No one is going to be too angry with me for much of what I say publicly. If anything, the ordination process, seminary and these few years of priesthood have taught me to be careful about what I write, what I say, when I say it and to whom. Up until now, I've been pretty good at keeping the compartments in place.

But I'm beginning to wonder, do my compartments keep me safe or keep me incarcerated?