My Easter Shoes weren't "good enough"

I bet the Queen of England has a wonderful closet full of shoes. We know that Imelda Marcos, though not the Queen of the Philippines, had over a 100 pairs of shoes in her closet. The Queen of Swords was only supposed to wear one pair of high heeled boots, but anybody who paid attention to the show could see that the stunt doubles wore flat-soled boots for their scenes. So, really, the Queen of Swords had two pairs of shoes in that persona.

As long as they are clean and respectable, one would not think that it does not make any difference what one's shoes look like as one works as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion at the Roman Catholic mass.With the new priests running my parish, apparently it does. My spiritual director, today, commented that one would think that it matters more what one is like on the inside than what one's shoes look like to give the body and blood of the Lord to others.

On Holy Saturday Mass this year at Queen of Heaven parish, none-the-less, I was scheduled to be an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion. I wore my best flat shoes to help. As I was leaving the sacristy, after signing in, the assistant priest called out to nobody in particular as my back was turned "Those are athletic shoes." Now, he is from the Philippines, so I should have countered with "Well, I am not Imelda Marcos," but I didn't. Having manners, I just returned to my place in the pew. When it was time to help at the altar, the wife of one of the deacons at mass told me to sit down. Then they had somebody come up to the altar and substitute for me. This past Sunday, the same priest said mass and a similar thing happened.

So, I asked not to be scheduled to help because there are only certain shoes I can wear. According to Reebock, what I wear (the Princess Wide) is called a Women's casual shoe appropriate for smart-casual and business/informal occasions. I don't think the priest should have made himself an expert in women's fashions.

The lay leaders have asked me to reconsider and still help out, but the idea that what my shoes look like as opposed to my soul eats at me so much that I have trouble stealing myself against the possibility of being told to sit down again because my shoes "aren't good enough."