St. James the Least of All Happily,
the Church of England still retains some singular parish
clergy. Take the parish of St James-the-Least in the Letter
from St James the Least of All – On
those out of the ordinary church services…. The
Rectory My
dear Nephew Darren Your
plans to devise special Services that will involve local
industry does you credit, although I cannot imagine what
a church decorated with bathroom suites, double glazing
frames and airplane wings will look like. Were we to do
something similar in this parish, we would have to devise
suitable symbols for merchant bankers and property
developers. Perhaps wads of banknotes among the flower
arrangements may look rather splendid. Our practice is,
naturally, to continue with more traditional ways. We
have just had our annual blessing of the plough and new-born
lamb. We always have a packed church - mainly of
parishioners hoping to see the lamb ruin the Rector's
surplice. The only disconcerting part is to be upstaged
by the wretched animal as it bleats piteously throughout
my carefully crafted sermon, which becomes lost as the
congregation wonders if the poor creature may be hungry,
or is missing its mother. The plough always comes from
Colonel Wainwright's garden. It stands ornamentally by
his lake for eleven months of the year and then rotates
round four of our local churches for their services in
January. It must be the best blessed, least used plough
in the county. At
least this year, I got several of our local farmers to
carry it into church. Last year our Verger pushed it up
the aisle, accidentally ploughing a perfect furrow along
the red Axminster. The sight may have looked all very
well in a field, by was not appreciated in the nave. It
did, however, provide a worthy project for our Ladies'
Guild. They will be much occupied over the coming months
knitting tea-cosies and making jam for sales of work
before we can replace it. Our
only other occasion when we have animals in church is the
Summer Pets Service. Invariably one escapes and our hymn
singing gradually disintegrates as the younger members of
the congregation try to catch over-enthusiastic dogs
chasing cats and rabbits up and down the aisles. The
only true disaster happened some years ago, just after we
had restored the organ, adding that splendid trumpet stop.
Our organist decided to start the service with a
brilliant trumpet fanfare. The drama of the introduction
was somewhat spoiled by all the animals in the building
simultaneously relieving themselves, out of shock. Our
team of cleaning ladies were much occupied that week -
and the congregation, for once, raised no objection when
I used incense at the following Sunday's service. Your
loving uncle, Eustace |