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St James the Least of All
On the perils of trainers, high heels and soft shoes in church The Rectory St. James the Least
My dear Nephew Darren
Having informed you of why clergy must always wear black shoes in church, my belief is that all those who hold any office in church should be similarly dressed.
Altar servers have the tendency to arrive wearing what I am informed are called trainers. Were they black it would be tolerable, but they seem to be without exception either brilliant white or luminous pink. When they arrive so attired I insist they remove them and serve in the sanctuary in their socks. Since our church floor is several degrees colder than permafrost, it normally takes them the rest of the morning with their feet in a bucket of hot water before circulation returns. They do not make that mistake a second time.
The rule applies to members of the choir also; my only concession is that ladies are allowed to wear shoes with heels. But that can present its own hazards. Miss Threlfall recently appeared in heels that, by chance, were the exact size and shape of the holes in our beautiful Victorian heating gratings in the nave floor. During the procession at the start of the Service, her heel wedged in one. She is a lady of some determination and refused to stop, thereby holding up the procession and letting the congregation know something was amiss. So she proceeded, now with a twelve inch square cast iron grid firmly attached to her foot. As she gallantly clanked up the aisle, rocking slightly since one leg was now several stones heavier, one of our basses, completely innocent of what had happened, stepped into thin air. Half of his body disappeared vertically downwards as the other half proceeded in a horizontal easterly direction, scattering tenors like skittles. I continue to visit him in hospital.
Our organist arrives wearing black shoes, but once hidden in the organ loft, removes them and plays the organ in soft shoes. Or he did; these days he never removes his shoes at all. At Evensong on Sundays, my dog comes with me to swell the congregation and wanders round the church benignly as the Service progresses. After one Service, our organist came to retrieve his shoes only to find them missing. Their absence was inexplicable - until two weeks later when I found them buried in the Rectory rose garden.
Churchwardens, of course, know the rules for correct footwear - that is why they have been elected to serve in such a distinguished office - although I do feel that Admiral Hopkinson's practice of wearing white spats on top of his shoes when the bishop is here, a little excessive - even rather flash.
Maintaining this dress policy once you have your own church, will be maintaining the true faith.
Your loving uncle,
Eustace
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