St. James the Least of All The
Church of England rejoices in many colourful clergy.
We continue to publish the correspondence between
Eustace, a rector of the ‘old school’, and his
young nephew… The
Rectory On Weddings in Spring My dear
Nephew Darren Just as
undertakers rub their hands in glee at the coming of
Winter frosts, so hoteliers with banqueting suites become
animated at the first signs of Spring. We have arrived at
the first phase of the marriage season. As the days begin
to lengthen and trees start to bud, young men find it
irresistible not to propose to potential brides. Some
people wait to hear the first cuckoo to let them know
Spring is on its way; I wait to hear the first knock on
the Rectory door from couples wanting to book their
wedding. Naturally,
my first job is to try to put them off; it would save
them a great deal of money and give me many more free
Saturdays, but I always fail, and so the big day is
booked. Nowadays, there is such a time lag between
booking a marriage service and it taking place, I
sometimes think it would be easier to book the service
first and then look for someone to marry at a later, more
convenient, time. Last
year, it was somewhat different with one couple. They
were both in their late eighties (a good time to
contemplate a first marriage, in my opinion) and asked if
they could arrange to get married as soon as possible.
The usual reason for a hurried marriage seemed unlikely
at their age and so I asked why. Their answer was
charming: “At our age, we might not still be here if
the great day is much delayed.” Of
course, booking a marriage is the simplest part of the
whole procedure. There are florists to negotiate with -
made even more complex should there be more than one
marriage that day. One bride wants all white, the other
red, and so one set of priceless flowers is trundled out
of church by one set of florists while a competitor
barrows in the next confection. Photographers are
inclined to think aisles are racetracks, pews for
standing on and all church furniture moveable - generally
once the service has started. I place all photographers
in the west gallery before the service and lock them in -
naturally, apologising for my fit of absentmindedness
afterwards. Courses
should be offered at theological colleges on placating
irate bell-ringers when the bride is half-an-hour late,
cooling down organists when the happy couple ask to come
in to an organ arrangement of a Led Zepplin number and re-assuring
the choir that the guests meant no disrespect as they
made mobile phone calls in church while the choir sang
Ave Maria, once we had disappeared to sign the registers.
However, nothing will ever calm down a verger who has
been left to sweep up several hundredweights of confetti
once everyone else has gone home. I find a restorative
sherry back at the rectory works wonders. Your
loving uncle, Eustace |