So my feet are never very far from my thoughts. Particularly in the number of formal or semi-formal or professional or semi-professional environments I find myself in, I'm always having to ask myself whether or not I should wear my shoes. I prefer not to, of course. But I was at a friend's wedding recently where I knew my shoeless feet would be far more distracting for others than it would be a matter of comfort for me, so I wore them. When I was at a professional development session during a school day, I kept my shoes on for the duration of the event. When I was there on a day after school was over, I slid in and out of them as I felt comfortable (most everyone there was significantly dressed down as well).
Today brought me several of opportunities to ponder my own beloved "barefootedness." I visited the church where I'll be interning for the next six months as part of my diocesan discernment towards ordination for holy orders. It was almost not a question at all; when I got out of the car to explore the church's campus, I left my shoes on the floor. My first entrance into a space that will be, for all intents and purposes, my church home. I wanted to encounter it barefoot, assuming the ground is holy. I was delighted when I found my supervisor's office and she too was barefoot! Granted, she was sitting at her desk and her shoes were right under her, but still. Not every clergy person would go so far, and it helped us break the ice on our first meeting, which was good since I was showing up unannounced. Or so it seemed.
Tonight I went to an ordination at the other Episcopal church in Oxford, St. Stephens. I've attended there now three times, and always barefoot. I can feel the vague disapproval of what I'm doing while I'm there, but have rarely had anyone comment on it. My own church, St. Cyprian's, loves that I come barefoot and even "bragged" after a fashion on me to the bishop. So whether he approves or not, he at least knows it's a settled part of who I am when I'm at church.
I got home after the ordination and had a voicemail from my supervisor. I called her back and we chatted, mostly about how Clara and I met and our past so that she can include us on an e-mail that will go out to the parish later this week. As we finished our conversation, she said "Probably, tomorrow, wear shoes (to staff meeting)."
Should I be frustrated? Should I rebel? Should I bring it up to her tomorrow when I meet with her afterwards? How much should I press the issue? I wore shoes faithfully (except during the physical act of preaching) at my internship parish during seminary. Should I advocate for my own chosen expression of faith? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill?
Regardless of what path I walk tomorrow, I'm more convinced than ever that we process reality - at least in part - through our feet. After all, as my wife will willingly tell you, a baby first explores its environment with its feet.
