Writing to Henri Tempier, who was the one responsible for the formation of the novices at Laus, Eugene speaks about the dress of the Missionaries. The gesture of receiving the cassock (soutane) marked the official beginning of the novitiate period. They “took the habit” – they consciously took on the dress of the Missionary as a sign that they consciously “became” missionaries.
They cannot be novices without taking the habit of the missionary. Their stay among the guests will have to be prolonged, that is to say, outside the novitiate, until they have their soutane, which will be given to them the day they enter the novitiate, if they arrived without it.
If the novice was already an ordained priest, he would have arrived wearing the ‘rabat’ around his neck. It was a square of black cloth with white borders that was the sign of the diocesan priest. The day he became a Missionary he had to remove that symbol of priesthood and wear the identification sign of the Missionary.
When anyone seeks admission who already has his soutane, he should keep the rabat as long as he is with the guests and then put it aside the day of his entrance into the novitiate, because the habit of the missionary is the soutane without the rabat.
Letter to Henri Tempier, 18 January 1821, E.O. VI n.59
Clerical dress has changed in the two centuries since this was written, and we are no longer familiar with the use of the rabat as it was worn then. Eugene was underlining that the identity of the Missionary was not to be confused with that of a diocesan priest. (Interestingly, when Eugene became the Bishop of the Diocese of Marseille, he did wear the rabat in unity with his diocesan clergy, whose chief pastor he was.)
Apparently in the France of that time the rabat was also a sign of the Gallican Church which stressed its independence from Roman supremacy – a sentiment not shared by Eugene, who was unmistakably an ultramontanist and wanted to be as fully in communion with Rome as possible.
Today for the Missionary Oblate who is a priest, the Rule of Life says: ”The Oblate habit is the same as the clerical dress of the diocese in which we live. When we wear a cassock, our only distinctive sign is the Oblate cross.” Constitution 64
‘As every lord gives a certain dress (uniform) to his servants, charity is the very dress of Christ. Our Saviour, who is the Lord above all lords, would have his servants known by their badge, which is love.” Latimer
Well I have learned a new word today – ultramontanist – had to look it up on Wikipedia. On Saturday as David made his perpetual vows he of course wore a cassock – plain black, not really very fetching. But when he received his cross he very smoothly tucked it into the cloth belt. I wondered at the time (not unkindly) if he had practised this. It was distinctive and once the Cross was there he looked complete.
Interesting that Eugene chose to wear the rabat once he became Bishop of Marseille. It is understandable – he was no longer just missionary, founder of the Oblates but also bishop to all of the priests in his diocese. He had to wear ‘many hats’. Again I think of the consumate ambassador and politician, weaving his way through and around.
What uniform do I wear? What does the badge that I wear identify me as? How do I present myself to those around me? Do I allow my badge to be shown or do I try to cover it up sometimes? How am I identified? Some good questions for me to ponder and take with me as I go through this day.
It is our mission to minister to and to serve youth, the poor, the marginalized, and the outcasts of our society; and to minister to them not so much in a parish setting because they may never get there, but rather where they are at. This is a tall order given, I think, it involves the majority of people these days.
I am not sure about the importance of identifying clothing. In fact I think sometimes it may get in the way – i.e. a turn-off for those we are trying to help; we are one of them not above them.
I do think wearing the Oblate cross is an important symbol/statement. What truly matters is helping these people concretely and spiritually but the sight of the cross invites questions, opens conversations, and lets them know from where this help, this understanding, this love comes.