Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. I rarely find comfort in the King James Version and with this verse it is no different. Instead, these words poke at me like a preacher wagging his finger over the pulpit. I know his words are directed at me. I know that they poke at something I don’t care to admit, but there it is. I am vain. I feel vain. All is vanity.
OK. I admit it’s a bit over-dramatic, but I am indeed struggling with my own vanity. It feels silly and trite. Every ounce of my being believes that I should have gotten over this by now. I’ve been ordained for nearly as long as The Young Clergy Women Project has existed. I got to dream about what this organization would be – but when we met at our first conference we shared our vain frustrations. We lamented the church member that accused us of wearing too much make-up. We bemoaned that we were told we couldn’t wear big earrings while preaching. We insisted upon the supreme style of our shoes. After all, it’s all the congregation can really see under our robes. These conversations birthed this column in Fidelia’s Sisters. We wanted to talk about these details in our own voices, but now it’s nearly five years later. Vanity of vanities! Why am I digging this up again?