Have you ever been curious about a woman sitting near you
in church wearing a mantilla? If you’re a woman, have you ever been alarmed to
find yourself clipping a chapel veil to your own hair for the first time? And
you live in 21st century AMERICA. And you’re not even a NUN. But Jesus’
love is both curious and alarming; one should dress for the occasion. Ideally, we
–both men and women—dress ourselves interiorly for the Wedding Feast of the
Lamb every day, but outwardly dressing the part can also be a beautiful symbol
and reminder that the Bridegroom consummated this marriage with us on the
cross, is here with us now in the Eucharist, and comes again.
I have noticed a handful of women in my parish wearing veils.
While I’ve been discerning the practice for some years, I do not yet wear a
chapel veil regularly and don't know that I ever will. But, for the past few years,
I have worn a veil at the Great Easter Vigil, the apex of the liturgical year,
full of solemnity and joy, longing and intimacy, familiarity and wonder –all
the paradoxes of a Church that could only possibly have been created by God
Himself. The Sacrifice of the Mass is a banquet that could only be set out by a
madman by worldly standards, but by the God-man madly in love with his
spotless, virginal bride by God’s standards. “This is My Body; take, eat.” It’s
almost too much to bear. So, when words fail, veil.
Each day I try to some degree to dress my heart as He sees
me. At least, I want to. I can’t say this has been a stellar year for that, or
a stellar life. But when I wear my heart’s invisible veil on my head for that
one night at the Easter Vigil, it somehow resolves my Yes to His gift anew. And
with a mantilla, I do not stand with my face covered. Quite the opposite: the
lace is draped only over my hair, perpetually at the point in the wedding
ceremony where the Groom has just lifted His bride’s veil revealing her face to
Him and to herself in His eyes. Veils are sometimes referred to as “head
coverings” and I have to smile when I hear that. A veil worn out of sheer love
covers nothing at all. It is the most naked you will ever be in public. And if
you just keep looking into His eyes you will forget you ever cared that anyone
else would see.
Jesus does not look at you and see your less-than-stellar
year or your less-than-stellar life. All times are Now to God. He knew you
before you ever sinned and were only carrying the weight of the Happy Fault
that brings us to this Easter. He also knows you as you are with Him in heaven when
this life is done and you have poured out what little you can offer for Him and have
come out the other side of purgatory, radiant in His love and forevermore
untouched by any stain of sin. Veil your heart for so patient and sure a
Bridegroom! If you give your resounding yes, do you not believe He will make
you holy? He turns water into wine, wine into Blood, and Blood into eternal
life! As unlikely and undeserved as it is, you are beautiful and holy to Him.
Give yourself to Him as the bride you are, the bride He sees you as, holding
nothing back. What better symbol is there of this mutual laying down of lives
than a bride’s veil, a veil that bares the soul?
Note: This is merely one reason why I wear a veil for Easter.
I neither claim to speak for all women who wear veils, nor do I claim that all
women should wear veils. But, I do get the sense the Church is not enriched by
the sudden dropping of the ancient tradition of veiling from the liturgical
books a handful of decades ago.
